Redgauntlet

by Walter Scott

  'Well, thou shalt have the brandy, and be d—d to thee, if thou wilt tell me what you are making here.'

  'Seeking a young advocate chap that they ca' Alan Fairford, that has played me a slippery trick, and ye maun ken a' about the cause,' said Peter.

  'An advocate, man!' answered the captain of the JUMPING JENNY—for it was he, and no other, who had taken compassion on Peter's drought; 'why, Lord help thee, thou art on the wrong side of the Firth to seek advocates, whom I take to be Scottish lawyers, not English.'

  'English lawyers, man!' exclaimed Peter, 'the deil a lawyer's in a' England.'

  'I wish from my soul it were true,' said Ewart; 'but what the devil put that in your head?'

  'Lord, man, I got a grip of ane of their attorneys in Carlisle, and he tauld me that there wasna a lawyer in England ony mair than himsell that kend the nature of a multiple-poinding! And when I told him how this loopy lad, Alan Fairford, had served me, he said I might bring an action on the case—just as if the case hadna as mony actions already as one case can weel carry. By my word, it is a gude case, and muckle has it borne, in its day, of various procedure—but it's the barley-pickle breaks the naig's back, and wi' my consent it shall not hae ony mair burden laid upon it.'

  'But this Alan Fairford?' said Nanty—'come—sip up the drop of brandy, man, and tell me some more about him, and whether you are seeking him for good or for harm.'

  'For my ain gude, and for his harm, to be sure,' said Peter. 'Think of his having left my cause in the dead-thraw between the tyneing and the winning, and capering off into Cumberland here, after a wild loup-the-tether lad they ca' Darsie Latimer.'

  'Darsie Latimer!' said Mr. Geddes, hastily; 'do you know anything of Darsie Latimer?'

  'Maybe I do, and maybe I do not,' answered Peter; 'I am no free to answer every body's interrogatory, unless it is put judicially, and by form of law—specially where folk think so much of a caup of sour yill, or a thimblefu' of brandy. But as for this gentleman, that has shown himself a gentleman at breakfast, and will show himself a gentleman at the meridian, I am free to condescend upon any points in the cause that may appear to bear upon the question at issue.'

  'Why, all I want to know from you, my friend, is, whether you are seeking to do this Mr. Alan Fairford good or harm; because if you come to do him good, I think you could maybe get speech of him—and if to do him harm, I will take the liberty to give you a cast across the Firth, with fair warning not to come back on such an errand, lest worse come of it.'

  The manner and language of Ewart were such that Joshua Geddes resolved to keep cautious silence, till he could more plainly discover whether he was likely to aid or impede him in his researches after Darsie Latimer. He therefore determined to listen attentively to what should pass between Peter and the seaman, and to watch for an opportunity of questioning the former, so soon as he should be separated from his new acquaintance.

  'I wad by no means,' said Peter Peebles, 'do any substantial harm to the poor lad Fairford, who has had mony a gowd guinea of mine, as weel as his father before him; but I wad hae him brought back to the minding of my business and his ain; and maybe I wadna insist further in my action of damages against him, than for refunding the fees, and for some annual rent on the principal sum due frae the day on which he should have recovered it for me, plack and bawbee, at the great advising; for ye are aware, that is the least that I can ask NOMINE DAMNI; and I have nae thought to break down the lad bodily a'thegither—we maun live and let live—forgie and forget.'

  'The deuce take me, friend Broadbrim,' said Nanty Ewart, looking to the Quaker, 'if I can make out what this old scarecrow means. If I thought it was fitting that Master Fairford should see him, why perhaps it is a matter that could be managed. Do you know anything about the old fellow?—you seemed to take some charge of him just now.'

  'No more than I should have done by any one in distress,' said Geddes, not sorry to be appealed to; 'but I will try what I can do to find out who he is, and what he is about in this country. But are we not a little too public in this open room?'

  'It's well thought of,' said Nanty; and at his command the barmaid ushered the party into a side-booth, Peter attending them in the instinctive hope that there would be more liquor drunk among them before parting. They had scarce sat down in their new apartment, when the sound of a violin was heard in the room which they had just left.

  'I'll awa back yonder,' said Peter, rising up again; 'yon's the sound of a fiddle, and when there is music, there's ay something ganging to eat or drink.'

  'I am just going to order something here,' said the Quaker; 'but in the meantime, have you any objection, my good friend, to tell us your name?'

  'None in the world, if you are wanting to drink to me by name and surname,' answered Peebles; 'but, otherwise, I would rather evite your interrogatories.'

  'Friend,' said the Quaker, 'it is not for thine own health, seeing thou hast drunk enough already—however—here, handmaiden—bring me a gill of sherry.'

  'Sherry's but shilpit drink, and a gill's a sma' measure for twa gentlemen to crack ower at their first acquaintance. But let us see your sneaking gill of sherry,' said Poor Peter, thrusting forth his huge hand to seize on the diminutive pewter measure, which, according to the fashion of the time, contained the generous liquor freshly drawn from the butt.

  'Nay, hold, friend,' said Joshua, 'thou hast not yet told me what name and surname I am to call thee by.'

  'D—d sly in the Quaker,' said Nanty, apart, 'to make him pay for his liquor before he gives it him. Now, I am such a fool, that I should have let him get too drunk to open his mouth, before I thought of asking him a question.'

  'My name is Peter Peebles, then,' said the litigant, rather sulkily, as one who thought his liquor too sparingly meted out to him; 'and what have you to say to that?'

  'Peter Peebles?' repeated Nanty Ewart and seemed to muse upon something which the words brought to his remembrance, while the Quaker pursued his examination.

  'But I prithee, Peter Peebles, what is thy further designation? Thou knowest, in our country, that some men are distinguished by their craft and calling, as cordwainers, fishers, weavers, or the like, and some by their titles as proprietors of land (which savours of vanity)—now, how may you be distinguished from others of the same name?'

  'As Peter Peebles of the great plea of Poor Peter Peebles against Plainstanes, ET PER CONTRA—if I am laird of naething else, I am ay a DOMINUS LITIS.'

  'It's but a poor lairdship, I doubt,' said Joshua.

  'Pray, Mr. Peebles,' said Nanty, interrupting the conversation abruptly, 'were not you once a burgess of Edinburgh?'

  'WAS I a burgess!' said Peter indignantly, 'and AM I not a burgess even now? I have done nothing to forfeit my right, I trow—once provost and ay my lord.'

  'Well, Mr. Burgess, tell me further, have you not some property in the Gude Town?' continued Ewart.

  'Troth have I—that is, before my misfortunes, I had twa or three bonny bits of mailings amang the closes and wynds, forby the shop and the story abune it. But Plainstanes has put me to the causeway now. Never mind though, I will be upsides with him yet.'

  'Had not you once a tenement in the Covenant Close?' again demanded Nanty.

  'You have hit it, lad, though ye look not like a Covenanter,' said Peter; 'we'll drink to its memory—(Hout! the heart's at the mouth o' that ill-faur'd bit stoup already!)—it brought a rent, reckoning from the crawstep to the groundsill, that ye might ca' fourteen punds a year, forby the laigh cellar that was let to Lucky Littleworth.'

  'And do you not remember that you had a poor old lady for your tenant, Mrs. Cantrips of Kittlebasket?' said Nanty, suppressing his emotion with difficulty.

  'Remember! G—d, I have gude cause to remember her,' said Peter, 'for she turned a dyvour on my hands, the auld besom! and after a' that the law could do to make me satisfied and paid, in the way of poinding and distrenzieing and sae forth, as the law will, she ran awa to the charity workhouse, a matte
r of twenty punds Scots in my debt—it's a great shame and oppression that charity workhouse, taking in bankrupt dyvours that canna, pay their honest creditors.'

  'Methinks, friend,' said the Quaker, 'thine own rags might teach thee compassion for other people's nakedness.'

  'Rags!' said Peter, taking Joshua's words literally; 'does ony wise body put on their best coat when they are travelling, and keeping company with Quakers, and such other cattle as the road affords?'

  'The old lady DIED, I have heard,' said Nanty, affecting a moderation which was belied by accents that faltered with passion.

  'She might live or die, for what I care,' answered Peter the Cruel; 'what business have folk to do to live that canna live as law will, and satisfy their just and lawful creditors?'

  'And you—you that are now yourself trodden down in the very kennel, are you not sorry for what you have done? Do you not repent having occasioned the poor widow woman's death?'

  'What for should I repent?' said Peter; 'the law was on my side—a decreet of the bailies, followed by poinding, and an act of warding—a suspension intented, and the letters found orderly proceeded. I followed the auld rudas through twa courts—she cost me mair money than her lugs were worth.'

  'Now, by Heaven!' said Nanty, 'I would give a thousand guineas, if I had them, to have you worth my beating! Had you said you repented, it had been between God and your conscience; but to hear you boast of your villany—Do you think it little to have reduced the aged to famine, and the young to infamy—to have caused the death of one woman, the ruin of another, and to have driven a man to exile and despair? By Him that made me, I can scarce keep hands off you!

  'Off me? I defy ye!' said Peter. 'I take this honest man to witness that if ye stir the neck of my collar, I will have my action for stouthreif, spulzie, oppression, assault and battery. Here's a bra' din, indeed, about an auld wife gaun to the grave, a young limmer to the close-heads and causeway, and a sticket stibbler[55] to the sea instead of the gallows!'

  'Now, by my soul,' said Nanty, 'this is too much! and since you can feel no otherwise, I will try if I cannot beat some humanity into your head and shoulders.'

  He drew his hanger as he spoke, and although Joshua, who had in vain endeavoured to interrupt the dialogue to which he foresaw a violent termination, now threw himself between Nanty and the old litigant, he could not prevent the latter from receiving two or three sound slaps over the shoulder with the flat side of the weapon.

  Poor Peter Peebles, as inglorious in his extremity as he had been presumptuous in bringing it on, now ran and roared, and bolted out of the apartment and house itself, pursued by Nanty, whose passion became high in proportion to his giving way to its dictates, and by Joshua, who still interfered at every risk, calling upon Nanty to reflect on the age and miserable circumstances of the offender, and upon Poor Peter to stand and place himself under his protection. In front of the house, however, Peter Peebles found a more efficient protector than the worthy Quaker.

  CHAPTER XXI

  NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD

  Our readers may recollect that Fairford had been conducted by Dick Gardener from the house of Fairladies to the inn of old Father Crackenthorp, in order, as he had been informed by the mysterious Father Buonaventure, that he might have the meeting which he desired with Mr. Redgauntlet, to treat with him for the liberty of his friend Darsie. His guide, by the special direction of Mr. Ambrose, had introduced him into the public-house by a back-door, and recommended to the landlord to accommodate him with a private apartment, and to treat him with all civility; but in other respects to keep his eye on him, and even to secure his person, if he saw any reason to suspect him to be a spy. He was not, however, subjected to any direct restraint, but was ushered into an apartment where he was requested to await the arrival of the gentleman with whom he wished to have an interview, and who, as Crackenthorp assured, him with a significant nod, would be certainly there in the course of an hour. In the meanwhile, he recommended to him, with another significant sign, to keep his apartment, 'as there were people in the house who were apt to busy themselves about other folk's matters.'

  Alan Fairford complied with the recommendation, so long as he thought it reasonable; but when, among a large party riding up to the house, he discerned Redgauntlet, whom he had seen under the name of Mr. Herries of Birrenswork, and whom, by his height and strength, he easily distinguished from the rest, he thought it proper to go down to the front of the house, in hopes that, by more closely reconnoitring the party, he might discover if his friend Darsie was among them.

  The reader is aware that, by doing so, he had an opportunity of breaking Darsie's fall from his side-saddle, although his disguise and mask prevented his recognizing his friend. It may be also recollected that while Nixon hurried Miss Redgauntlet and her brother into the house, their uncle, somewhat chafed at an unexpected and inconvenient interruption, remained himself in parley with Fairford, who had already successively addressed him by the names of Herries and Redgauntlet; neither of which, any more than the acquaintance of the young lawyer, he seemed at the moment willing to acknowledge, though an air of haughty indifference, which he assumed, could not conceal his vexation and embarrassment.

  'If we must needs be acquainted, sir,' he said at last—'for which I am unable to see any necessity, especially as I am now particularly disposed to be private—I must entreat you will tell me at once what you have to say, and permit me to attend to matters of more importance.'

  'My introduction,' said Fairford, 'is contained in this letter.—(Delivering that of Maxwell.)—I am convinced that, under whatever name it may be your pleasure for the present to be known, it is into your hands, and yours only, that it should be delivered.'

  Redgauntlet turned the letter in his hand—then read the contents then again looked upon the letter, and sternly observed, 'The seal of the letter has been broken. Was this the case, sir, when it was delivered into your hand?'

  Fairford despised a falsehood as much as any man,—unless, perhaps, as Tom Turnpenny might have said, 'in the way of business.' He answered readily and firmly, 'The seal was whole when the letter was delivered to me by Mr. Maxwell of Summertrees.'

  'And did you dare, sir, to break the seal of a letter addressed to me?' said Redgauntlet, not sorry, perhaps, to pick a quarrel upon a point foreign to the tenor of the epistle.

  'I have never broken the seal of any letter committed to my charge,' said Alan; 'not from fear of those to whom such letter might be addressed, but from respect to myself.'

  'That is well worded,' said Redgauntlet; 'and yet, young Mr. Counsellor, I doubt whether your delicacy prevented your reading my letter, or listening to the contents as read by some other person after it was opened.'

  'I certainly did hear the contents read over,' said Fairford; 'and they were such as to surprise me a good deal.'

  'Now that,' said Redgauntlet, 'I hold to be pretty much the same, IN FORO CONSCIENTIAE, as if you had broken the seal yourself. I shall hold myself excused from entering upon further discourse with a messenger so faithless; and you may thank yourself if your journey has been fruitless.'

  'Stay, sir,' said Fairford; 'and know that I became acquainted with the contents of the paper without my consent—I may even say, against my will; for Mr. Buonaventure'—

  'Who?' demanded Redgauntlet, in a wild and alarmed manner—'WHOM was it you named?'

  'Father Buonaventure,' said Alan,—'a Catholic priest, as I apprehend, whom I saw at the Misses Arthuret's house, called Fairladies.'

  'Misses Arthuret!—Fairladies!—A Catholic priest!—Father Buonaventure!' said Redgauntlet, repeating the words of Alan with astonishment.—'Is it possible that human rashness can reach such a point of infatuation? Tell me the truth, I conjure you, sir. I have the deepest interest to know whether this is more than an idle legend, picked up from hearsay about the country. You are a lawyer, and know the risk incurred by the Catholic clergy, whom the discharge of their duty sends to these bloody shores.
'

  'I am a lawyer, certainly,' said Fairford; 'but my holding such a respectable condition in life warrants that I am neither an informer nor a spy. Here is sufficient evidence that I have seen Father Buonaventure.'

  He put Buonaventure's letter into Redgauntlet's hand, and watched his looks closely while he read it. 'Double-dyed infatuation!' he muttered, with looks in which sorrow, displeasure, and anxiety were mingled. '"Save me from the indiscretion of my friends," says the Spaniard; "I can save myself from the hostility of my enemies."'

  He then read the letter attentively, and for two or three minutes was lost in thought, while some purpose of importance seemed to have gathered and sit brooding upon his countenance. He held up his finger towards his satellite, Cristal Nixon, who replied to his signal with a prompt nod; and with one or two of the attendants approached Fairford in such a manner as to make him apprehensive they were about to lay hold of him.

  At this moment a noise was heard from withinside of the house, and presently rushed forth Peter Peebles, pursued by Nanty Ewart with his drawn hanger, and the worthy Quaker, who was endeavouring to prevent mischief to others, at some risk of bringing it on himself.

  A wilder and yet a more absurd figure can hardly be imagined, than that of Poor Peter clattering along as fast as his huge boots would permit him, and resembling nothing so much as a flying scarecrow; while the thin emaciated form of Nanty Ewart, with the hue of death on his cheek, and the fire of vengeance glancing from his eye, formed a ghastly contrast with the ridiculous object of his pursuit.

  Redgauntlet threw himself between them. 'What extravagant folly is this?' he said. 'Put up your weapon, captain. Is this a time to indulge in drunken brawls, or is such a miserable object as that a fitting antagonist for a man of courage?'

  'I beg pardon,' said the captain, sheathing his weapon—'I was a little bit out of the way, to be sure; but to know the provocation, a man must read my heart, and that I hardly dare to do myself. But the wretch is safe from me. Heaven has done its own vengeance on us both.'