St. Ronan's Well

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE FRIGHT.

  As shakes the bough of trembling leaf, When sudden whirlwinds rise; As stands aghast the warrior chief, When his base army flies. . . . . . .

  It had been settled by all who took the matter into consideration, thatthe fidgety, fiery, old Nabob would soon quarrel with his landlady, Mrs.Dods, and become impatient of his residence at St. Ronan's. A man sokind to himself, and so inquisitive about the affairs of others, couldhave, it was supposed, a limited sphere for gratification either of histastes or of his curiosity, in the Aultoun of St. Ronan's: and many atime the precise day and hour of his departure were fixed by the idlersat the Spa. But still old Touchwood appeared amongst them when theweather permitted, with his nut-brown visage, his throat carefullywrapped up in an immense Indian kerchief, and his gold-headed cane,which he never failed to carry over his shoulder; his short, but stoutlimbs, and his active step, showing plainly that he bore it rather as abadge of dignity than a means of support. There he stood, answeringshortly and gruffly to all questions proposed to him, and making hisremarks aloud upon the company, with great indifference as to theoffence which plight be taken; and as soon as the ancient priestess hadhanded him his glass of the salutiferous water, turned on his heel witha brief good-morning, and either marched back to hide himself in theManse, with his crony Mr. Cargill, or to engage in some hobby-horsicalpursuit connected with his neighbours in the Aultoun.

  The truth was, that the honest gentleman having, so far as Mrs. Dodswould permit, put matters to rights within her residence, wiselyabstained from pushing his innovations any farther, aware that it is notevery stone which is capable of receiving the last degree of polish. Henext set himself about putting Mr. Cargill's house into order; andwithout leave asked or given by that reverend gentleman, he actuallyaccomplished as wonderful a reformation in the Manse, as could have beeneffected by a benevolent Brownie. The floors were sometimes swept--thecarpets were sometimes shaken--the plates and dishes were cleaner--therewas tea and sugar in the tea-chest, and a joint of meat at proper timeswas to be found in the larder. The elder maid-servant wore a good stuffgown--the younger snooded up her hair, and now went about the house adamsel so trig and neat, that some said she was too handsome for theservice of a bachelor divine; and others, that they saw no business soold a fool as the Nabob had to be meddling with a lassie's busking. Butfor such evil bruits Mr. Touchwood cared not, even if he happened tohear of them, which was very doubtful. Add to all these changes, thatthe garden was weeded, and the glebe was regularly laboured.

  The talisman by which all this desirable alteration was wrought,consisted partly in small presents, partly in constant attention. Theliberality of the singular old gentleman gave him a perfect right toscold when he saw things wrong; the domestics, who had fallen into totalsloth and indifference, began to exert themselves under Mr. Touchwood'snew system of rewards and surveillance; and the minister, halfunconscious of the cause, reaped the advantage of the exertions of hisbusy friend. Sometimes he lifted his head, when he heard workmenthumping and bouncing in the neighbourhood of his study, and demandedthe meaning of the clatter which annoyed him; but on receiving foranswer that it was by order of Mr. Touchwood, he resumed his labours,under the persuasion that all was well.

  But even the Augean task of putting the Manse in order, did not satisfythe gigantic activity of Mr. Touchwood. He aspired to universal dominionin the Aultoun of St. Ronan's; and, like most men of an ardent temper,he contrived, in a great measure, to possess himself of the authoritywhich he longed after. Then was there war waged by him with all thepetty, but perpetual nuisances, which infest a Scottish town of the oldstamp--then was the hereditary dunghill, which had reeked before thewindow of the cottage for fourscore years, transported behind thehouse--then was the broken wheelbarrow, or unserviceable cart, removedout of the footpath--the old hat, or blue petticoat, taken from thewindow into which it had been stuffed, to "expel the winter's flaw," wasconsigned to the gutter, and its place supplied by good perspicuousglass. The means by which such reformation was effected, were the sameas resorted to in the Manse--money and admonition. The latter givenalone would have met little attention--perhaps would have provokedopposition--but, softened and sweetened by a little present to assistthe reform recommended, it sunk into the hearts of the hearers, and ingeneral overcame their objections. Besides, an opinion of the Nabob'swealth was high among the villagers; and an idea prevailed amongst them,that, notwithstanding his keeping no servants or equipage, he was ableto purchase, if he pleased, half the land in the country. It was notgrand carriages and fine liveries that made heavy purses, they ratherhelped to lighten them; and they said, who pretended to know what theywere talking about, that old Turnpenny, and Mr. Bindloose to boot, wouldtell down more money on Mr. Touchwood's mere word, than upon the jointbond of half the fine folk at the Well. Such an opinion smoothed everything before the path of one, who showed himself neither averse to givenor to lend; and it by no means diminished the reputation of his wealth,that in transactions of business he was not carelessly negligent of hisinterest, but plainly showed he understood the value of what he wasparting with. Few, therefore, cared to withstand the humours of awhimsical old gentleman, who had both the will and the means of obligingthose disposed to comply with his fancies; and thus the singularstranger contrived, in the course of a brief space of days or weeks, toplace the villagers more absolutely at his devotion, than they had beento the pleasure of any individual since their ancient lords had left theAultoun. The power of the baron-bailie himself, though the office wasvested in the person of old Meiklewham, was a subordinate jurisdiction,compared to the voluntary allegiance which the inhabitants paid to Mr.Touchwood.

  There were, however, recusants, who declined the authority thus set upamongst them, and, with the characteristic obstinacy of theircountrymen, refused to hearken to the words of the stranger, whetherthey were for good or for evil. These men's dunghills were not removed,nor the stumbling-blocks taken from the footpath, where it passed thefront of their houses. And it befell, that while Mr. Touchwood was mosteager in abating the nuisances of the village, he had very nearlyexperienced a frequent fate of great reformers--that of losing his lifeby means of one of those enormities which as yet had subsisted in spiteof all his efforts.

  The Nabob finding his time after dinner hang somewhat heavy on his hand,and the moon being tolerably bright, had, one harvest evening, soughthis usual remedy for dispelling ennui by a walk to the Manse, where hewas sure, that, if he could not succeed in engaging the minister himselfin some disputation, he would at least find something in theestablishment to animadvert upon and to restore to order.

  Accordingly, he had taken the opportunity to lecture the younger of theminister's lasses upon the duty of wearing shoes and stockings; and, ashis advice came fortified by a present of six pair of white cotton hose,and two pair of stout leathern shoes, it was received, not with respectonly, but with gratitude, and the chuck under the chin that rounded upthe oration, while she opened the outer door for his honour, wasacknowledged with a blush and a giggle. Nay, so far did Grizzy carry hersense of Mr. Touchwood's kindness, that, observing the moon was behind acloud, she very carefully offered to escort him to the Cleikum Inn witha lantern, in case he should come to some harm by the gate. This thetraveller's independent spirit scorned to listen to; and, having brieflyassured her that he had walked the streets of Paris and of Madrid wholenights without such an accommodation, he stoutly strode off on hisreturn to his lodgings.

  An accident, however, befell him, which, unless the police of Madrid andParis be belied, might have happened in either of those two splendidcapitals, as well as in the miserable Aultoun of St. Ronan's. Before thedoor of Saunders Jaup, a feuar of some importance, "who held his landfree, and caredna a bodle for any one," yawned that odoriferous gulf,ycleped, in Scottish phrase, the jawhole; in other words, an uncoveredcommon sewer. The local situation of this receptacle of filth was wellknown to Mr. Touchwood; for Sau
nders Jaup was at the very head of thosewho held out for the practices of their fathers, and still maintainedthose ancient and unsavoury customs which our traveller had in so manyinstances succeeded in abating. Guided, therefore, by his nose, theNabob made a considerable circuit to avoid the displeasure and danger ofpassing this filthy puddle at the nearest, and by that means fell uponScylla as he sought to avoid Charybdis. In plain language, he approachedso near the bank of a little rivulet, which in that place passed betwixtthe footpath and the horse-road, that he lost his footing, and fell intothe channel of the streamlet from a height of three or four feet. It wasthought that the noise of his fall, or at least his call for assistance,must have been heard in the house of Saunders Jaup; but that honestperson was, according to his own account, at that time engaged in theexercise of the evening; an excuse which passed current, althoughSaunders was privately heard to allege, that the town would have beenthe quieter, "if the auld, meddling busybody had bidden still in theburn for gude and a'."

  But Fortune had provided better for poor Touchwood, whose foibles, asthey arose out of the most excellent motives, would have ill deserved sosevere a fate. A passenger, who heard him shout for help, venturedcautiously to the side of the bank, down which he had fallen; and, afterascertaining the nature of the ground as carefully as the darknesspermitted, was at length, and not without some effort, enabled to assisthim out of the channel of the rivulet.

  "Are you hurt materially?" said this good Samaritan to the object of hiscare.

  "No--no--d--n it--no," said Touchwood, extremely angry at his disaster,and the cause of it. "Do you think I, who have been at the summit ofMount Athos, where the precipice sinks a thousand feet on the sea, carea farthing about such a fall as this is?"

  But, as he spoke, he reeled, and his kind assistant caught him by thearm to prevent his falling.

  "I fear you are more hurt than you suppose, sir," said the stranger:"permit me to go home along with you."

  "With all my heart," said Touchwood; "for though it is impossible I canneed help in such a foolish matter, yet I am equally obliged to you,friend; and if the Cleikum Inn be not out of your road, I will take yourarm so far, and thank you to the boot."

  "It is much at your service, sir," said the stranger; "indeed, I wasthinking to lodge there for the night."

  "I am glad to hear it," resumed Touchwood; "you shall be my guest, and Iwill make them look after you in proper fashion--You seem to be a verycivil sort of fellow, and I do not find your arm inconvenient--it is therheumatism makes me walk so ill--the pest of all that have been in hotclimates when they settle among these d--d fogs."

  "Lean as hard and walk as slow as you will, sir," said the benevolentassistant--"this is a rough street."

  "Yes, sir--and why is it rough?" answered Touchwood. "Why, because theold pig-headed fool, Saunders Jaup, will not allow it to be made smooth.There he sits, sir, and obstructs all rational improvement; and, if aman would not fall into his infernal putrid gutter, and so become anabomination to himself and odious to others, for his whole life to come,he runs the risk of breaking his neck, as I have done to-night."

  "I am afraid, sir," said his companion, "you have fallen on the mostdangerous side.--You remember Swift's proverb, 'The more dirt, the lesshurt.'"

  "But why should there be either dirt or hurt in a well-regulated place?"answered Touchwood--"Why should not men be able to go about theiraffairs at night, in such a hamlet as this, without either endangeringnecks or noses?--Our Scottish magistrates are worth nothing, sir--nothingat all. Oh for a Turkish Cadi, now, to trounce the scoundrel--or theMayor of Calcutta to bring him into his court--or were it but an EnglishJustice of the Peace that is newly included in the commission, theywould abate the villain's nuisance with a vengeance on him!--But here weare--this is the Cleikum Inn.--Hallo--hilloa--house!--EppieAnderson!--Beenie Chambermaid!--boy Boots!--Mrs. Dods!--are you all ofyou asleep and dead?--Here have I been half murdered, and you let mestand bawling at the door!"

  Eppie Anderson came with a light, and so did Beenie Chambermaid withanother; but no sooner did they look upon the pair who stood in theporch under the huge sign that swung to and fro with heavy creaking,than Beenie screamed, flung away her candle, although a four in thepound, and in a newly japanned candlestick, and fled one way, whileEppie Anderson, echoing the yell, brandished her light round her headlike a Bacchante flourishing her torch, and ran off in anotherdirection.

  "Ay--I must be a bloody spectacle," said Mr. Touchwood, letting himselffall heavily upon his assistant's shoulder, and wiping his face, whichtrickled with wet--"I did not think I had been so seriously hurt; but Ifind my weakness now--I must have lost much blood."

  "I hope you are still mistaken," said the stranger; "but here lies theway to the kitchen--we shall find light there, since no one chooses tobring it to us."

  He assisted the old gentleman into the kitchen, where a lamp, as well asa bright fire, was burning, by the light of which he could easilydiscern that the supposed blood was only water of the rivulet, and,indeed, none of the cleanest, although much more so than the suffererwould have found it a little lower, where the stream is joined by thesuperfluities of Saunders Jaup's palladium. Relieved by his newfriend's repeated assurances that such was the case, the Senior began tobustle up a little, and his companion, desirous to render him everyassistance, went to the door of the kitchen to call for a basin andwater. Just as he was about to open the door, the voice of Mrs. Dods washeard as she descended the stairs, in a tone of indignation by no meansunusual to her, yet mingled at the same time with a few notes thatsounded like unto the quaverings of consternation.

  "Idle limmers--silly sluts--I'll warrant nane o' ye will ever see onything waur than yoursell, ye silly tawpies--Ghaist, indeed!--I'llwarrant it's some idle dub-skelper frae the Waal, coming after some o'yoursells on nae honest errand--Ghaist, indeed!--Haud up the candle,John Ostler--I'se warrant it a twa-handed ghaist, and the door left onthe sneck. There's somebody in the kitchen--gang forward wi' thelantern, John Ostler."

  At this critical moment the stranger opened the door of the kitchen, andbeheld the Dame advancing at the head of her household troops. Theostler and humpbacked postilion, one bearing a stable-lantern and ahay-fork, the other a rushlight and a broom, constituted the advancedguard; Mrs. Dods herself formed the centre, talking loud and brandishinga pair of tongs; while the two maids, like troops not to be much trustedafter their recent defeat, followed, cowering in the rear. Butnotwithstanding this admirable disposition, no sooner had the strangershown his face, and pronounced the words "Mrs. Dods!" than a panicseized the whole array. The advanced guard recoiled in consternation,the ostler upsetting Mrs. Dods in the confusion of his retreat; whileshe, grappling with him in her terror, secured him by the ears andhair, and they joined their cries together in hideous chorus. The twomaidens resumed their former flight, and took refuge in the darksomeden, entitled their bedroom, while the humpbacked postilion fled likethe wind into the stable, and, with professional instinct, began, in theextremity of his terror, to saddle a horse.

  Meanwhile, the guest whose appearance had caused this combustion,plucked the roaring ostler from above Mrs. Dods, and pushing him awaywith a hearty slap on the shoulder, proceeded to raise and encourage thefallen landlady, enquiring, at the same time, "What, in the devil'sname, was the cause of all this senseless confusion?"

  "And what is the reason, in Heaven's name," answered the matron, keepingher eyes firmly shut, and still shrewish in her expostulation, though inthe very extremity of terror, "what is the reason that you should comeand frighten a decent house, where you met naething, when ye was in thebody, but the height of civility?"

  "And why should I frighten you, Mrs. Dods? or, in one word, what is themeaning of all this nonsensical terror?"

  "Are not you," said Mrs. Dods, opening her eyes a little as she spoke,"the ghaist of Francis Tirl?"

  "I am Francis Tyrrel, unquestionably, my old friend."

  "I kend it! I kend it!" answered the honest
woman, relapsing into heragony; "and I think ye might be ashamed of yourself, that are a ghaist,and have nae better to do than to frighten a puir auld alewife."

  "On my word, I am no ghost, but a living man," answered Tyrrel.

  "Were ye no murdered than?" demanded Mrs. Dods, still in an uncertainvoice, and only partially opening her eyes--"Are ye very sure ye werenamurdered?"

  "Why, not that ever I heard of, certainly, dame," replied Tyrrel.

  "But _I_ shall be murdered presently," said old Touchwood from thekitchen, where he had hitherto remained a mute auditor of thisextraordinary scene--"_I_ shall be murdered, unless you fetch me somewater without delay."

  "Coming, sir, coming," answered Dame Dods, her professional reply beingas familiar to her as that of poor Francis's "Anon, anon, sir." "As Ilive by honest reckonings," said she, fully collecting herself, andgiving a glance of more composed temper at Tyrrel, "I believe it _is_yoursell, Maister Frank, in blood and body after a'--And see if I dinnagie a proper sorting to yon twa silly jauds that gard me mak a bogle ofyou, and a fule of mysell--Ghaists! my certie, I sall ghaist them--Ifthey had their heads as muckle on their wark as on their daffing, theywad play nae sic pliskies--it's the wanton steed that scaurs at thewindle-strae--Ghaists! wha e'er heard of ghaists in an honest house?Naebody need fear bogles that has a conscience void of offence.--But Iam blithe that MacTurk hasna murdered ye when a' is done, MaisterFrancie."

  "Come this way, Mother Dods, if you would not have me do a mischief!"exclaimed Touchwood, grasping a plate which stood on the dresser, as ifhe were about to heave it at the landlady, by way of recalling herattention.

  "For the love of Heaven, dinna break it!" exclaimed the alarmedlandlady, knowing that Touchwood's effervescence of impatience sometimesexpended itself at the expense of her crockery, though it was afterwardsliberally atoned for. "Lord, sir, are ye out of your wits!--it breaks aset, ye ken--Godsake, put doun the cheeny plate, and try your hand onthe delf-ware!--it will just make as good a jingle--But, Lord haud agrip o' us! now I look at ye, what can hae come ower ye, and what sortof a plight are ye in!--Wait till I fetch water and a towel."

  In fact, the miserable guise of her new lodger now overcame the dame'scuriosity to enquire after the fate of her earlier acquaintance, and shegave her instant and exclusive attention to Mr. Touchwood, with manyexclamations, while aiding him to perform the task of ablution andabstersion. Her two fugitive handmaidens had by this time returned tothe kitchen, and endeavoured to suppress a smuggled laugh at therecollection of their mistress's panic, by acting very officiously inMr. Touchwood's service. By dint of washing and drying, the token of thesable stains was at length removed, and the veteran became, with somedifficulty, satisfied that he had been more dirtied and frightened thanhurt.

  Tyrrel, in the meantime, stood looking on with wonder, imagining that hebeheld in the features which emerged from a mask of mud, the countenanceof an old friend. After the operation was ended, he could not helpaddressing himself to Mr. Touchwood, to demand whether he had not thepleasure to see a friend, to whom he had been obliged when at Smyrna,for some kindness respecting his money matters?

  "Not worth speaking of--not worth speaking of," said Touchwood, hastily."Glad to see you, though--glad to see you.--Yes, here I am; you willfind me the same good-natured old fool that I was at Smyrna--never lookhow I am to get in money again--always laying it out. Never mind--it waswritten in my forehead, as the Turk says.--I will go up now and changemy dress--you will sup with me when I come back--Mrs. Dods will toss usup something--a brandered fowl will be best, Mrs. Dods, with somemushrooms, and get us a jug of mulled wine--plottie, as you call it--toput the recollection of the old Presbyterian's common sewer out of myhead."

  So saying, up stairs marched the traveller to his own apartment, whileTyrrel, seizing upon a candle, was about to do the same.

  "Mr. Touchwood is in the blue room, Mrs. Dods; I suppose I may takepossession of the yellow one?"

  "Suppose naething about the matter, Maister Francis Tirl, till ye tellme downright where ye have been a' this time, and whether ye hae beenmurdered or no?"

  "I think you may be pretty well satisfied of that, Mrs. Dods?"

  "Trot! and so I am in a sense; and yet it gars me grue to look upon ye,sae mony days and weeks it has been since I thought ye were rotten inthe moulds. And now to see ye standing before me hale and feir, andcrying for a bedroom like ither folk!"

  "One would almost suppose, my good friend," said Tyrrel, "that you weresorry at my having come alive again."

  "It's no for that," replied Mrs. Dods, who was peculiarly ingenious inthe mode of framing and stating what she conceived to be her grievances;"but is it no a queer thing for a decent man like yoursell, MaisterTirl, to be leaving your lodgings without a word spoken, and me put toa' these charges in seeking for your dead body, and very near taking mybusiness out of honest Maister Bindloose's hands, because he kend thecantrips of the like of you better than I did?--And than they hae puttenup an advertisement down at the Waal yonder, wi' a' their names at it,setting ye forth, Maister Francie, as are of the greatest blackguardsunhanged; and wha, div ye think, is to keep ye in a creditable house, ifthat's the character ye get?"

  "You may leave that to me, Mrs. Dods--I assure you that matter shall beput to rights to your satisfaction; and I think, so long as we haveknown each other, you may take my word that I am not undeserving theshelter of your roof for a single night, (I shall ask it no longer,)until my character is sufficiently cleared. It was for that purposechiefly I came back again."

  "Came back again!" said Mrs. Dods.--"I profess ye made me start, MaisterTirl, and you looking sae pale, too.--But I think," she added, strainingafter a joke, "if ye were a ghaist, seeing we are such auldacquaintance, ye wadna wish to spoil my custom, but would just walkdecently up and down the auld castle wa's, or maybe down at the kirkyonder--there have been awfu' things done in that kirk and kirkyard--Iwhiles dinna like to look that way, Maister Francie."

  "I am much of your mind, mistress," said Tyrrel, with a sigh; "and,indeed, I do in one resemble the apparitions you talk of; for, likethem, and to as little purpose, I stalk about scenes where my happinessdeparted.--But I speak riddles to you, Mrs. Dods--the plain truth is,that I met with an accident on the day I last left your house, theeffects of which detained me at some distance from St. Ronan's till thisvery day."

  "Hegh, sirs, and ye were sparing of your trouble, that wadna write a bitline, or send a bit message!--Ye might hae thought folk wad hae beenvexed eneugh about ye, forby undertaking journeys, and hiring folk toseek for your dead body."

  "I shall willingly pay all reasonable charges which my disappearance mayhave occasioned," answered her guest; "and I assure you, once for all,that my remaining for some time quiet at Marchthorn, arose partly fromillness, and partly from business of a very pressing and particularnature."

  "At Marchthorn!" exclaimed Dame Dods, "heard ever man the like o'that!--And where did ye put up in Marchthorn, an ane may mak' bauld tospeer?"

  "At the Black Bull," replied Tyrrel.

  "Ay, that's auld Tam Lowrie's--a very decent man, Thamas--and a doucecreditable house--nane of your flisk-ma-hoys--I am glad ye made choiceof sic gude quarters, neighbour; for I am beginning to think ye are buta queer ane--ye look as if butter wadna melt in your mouth, but I sallwarrant cheese no choke ye.--But I'll thank ye to gang your ways intothe parlour, for I am no like to get muckle mair out o' ye, it's like;and ye are standing here just in the gate, when we hae the supper todish."

  Tyrrel, glad to be released from the examination to which his landlady'scuriosity had without ceremony subjected him, walked into the parlour,where he was presently joined by Mr. Touchwood, newly attired, and inhigh spirits.

  "Here comes our supper!" he exclaimed.--"Sit ye down, and let us seewhat Mrs. Dods has done for us.--I profess, mistress, your plottie isexcellent, ever since I taught you to mix the spices in the rightproportion."

  "I am glad the plottie pleases ye, sir--but I think I ke
nd gay weel howto make it before I saw your honour--Maister Tirl can tell that, formony a browst of it I hae brewed lang syne for him and the callantValentine Bulmer."

  This ill-timed observation extorted a groan from Tyrrel; but thetraveller, running on with his own recollections, did not appear tonotice his emotion.

  "You are a conceited old woman," said Mr. Touchwood; "how the devilshould any one know how to mix spices so well as he who has been wherethey grow?--I have seen the sun ripening nutmegs and cloves, and here,it can hardly fill a peasecod, by Jupiter. Ah, Tyrrel, the merry nightswe have had at Smyrna!--Gad, I think the gammon and the good wine tasteall the better in a land where folks hold them to be sinfulindulgences--Gad, I believe many a good Moslem is of the sameopinion--that same prohibition of their prophet's gives a flavour to theham, and a relish to the Cyprus.--Do you remember old Cogia Hassein,with his green turban?--I once played him a trick, and put a pint ofbrandy into his sherbet. Egad, the old fellow took care never todiscover the cheat until he had got to the bottom of the flagon, andthen he strokes his long white beard, and says, 'Ullah Kerim,'--thatis, 'Heaven is merciful,' Mrs. Dods, Mr. Tyrrel knows the meaning ofit.--Ullah Kerim, says he, after he had drunk about a gallon ofbrandy-punch!--Ullah Kerim, says the hypocritical old rogue, as if hehad done the finest thing in the world!"

  "And what for no? What for shouldna the honest man say a blessing afterhis drap punch?" demanded Mrs. Dods; "it was better, I ween, thanblasting, and blawing, and swearing, as if folks shouldna be thankfulfor the creature comforts."

  "Well said, old Dame Dods," replied the traveller; "that is a righthostess's maxim, and worthy of Mrs. Quickly herself. Here is to thee,and I pray ye to pledge me before ye leave the room."

  "Troth, I'll pledge naebody the night, Maister Touchwood; for, what wi'the upcast and terror that I got a wee while syne, and what wi' the bittaste that I behoved to take of the plottie while I was making it, myhead is sair eneugh distressed the night already.--Maister Tirl, theyellow room is ready for ye when ye like; and, gentlemen, as the morn isthe Sabbath, I canna be keeping the servant queans out of their beds towait on ye ony langer, for they will mak it an excuse for lying tillaught o'clock on the Lord's day. So, when your plottie is done, I'll bemuckle obliged to ye to light the bedroom candles, and put out thedouble moulds, and e'en show yoursells to your beds; for douce folks,sic as the like of you, should set an example by ordinary.--And so,gude-night to ye baith."

  "By my faith," said Touchwood, as she withdrew, "our dame turns asobstinate as a Pacha with three tails!--We have her gracious permissionto finish our mug, however; so here is to your health once more, Mr.Tyrrel, wishing you a hearty welcome to your own country."

  "I thank you, Mr. Touchwood," answered Tyrrel; "and I return you thesame good wishes, with, as I sincerely hope, a much greater chance oftheir being realized.--You relieved me, sir, at a time when the villainyof an agent, prompted, as I have reason to think, by an active andpowerful enemy, occasioned my being, for a time, pressed for funds.--Imade remittances to the _Ragion_ you dealt with, to acquit myself atleast of the pecuniary part of my obligation; but the bills werereturned, because, it was stated, you had left Smyrna."

  "Very true--very true--left Smyrna, and here I am in Scotland--as forthe bills, we will speak of them another time--something due for pickingme out of the gutter."

  "I shall make no deduction on that account," said Tyrrel, smiling,though in no jocose mood; "and I beg you not to mistake me. Thecircumstances of embarrassment, under which you found me at Smyrna, weremerely temporary--I am most able and willing to pay my debt; and, let meadd, I am most desirous to do so."

  "Another time--another time," said Mr. Touchwood--"time enough beforeus, Mr. Tyrrel--besides, at Smyrna, you talked of a lawsuit--law is alick-penny, Mr. Tyrrel--no counsellor like the pound in purse."

  "For my lawsuit," said Tyrrel, "I am fully provided."

  "But have you good advice?--Have you good advice?" said Touchwood;"answer me that."

  "I have advised with my lawyers," answered Tyrrel, internally vexed tofind that his friend was much disposed to make his generosity upon theformer occasion a pretext for prying farther into his affairs now thanhe thought polite or convenient.

  "With your counsel learned in the law--eh, my dear boy? But the adviceyou should take is of some travelled friend, well acquainted withmankind and the world--some one that has lived double your years, and ismaybe looking out for some bare young fellow that he may do a littlegood to--one that might be willing to help you farther than I canpretend to guess--for, as to your lawyer, you get just your guinea'sworth from him--not even so much as the baker's bargain, thirteen to thedozen."

  "I think I should not trouble myself to go far in search of a friendsuch as you describe," said Tyrrel, who could not affect tomisunderstand the senior's drift, "when I was near Mr. PeregrineTouchwood; but the truth is, my affairs are at present so muchcomplicated with those of others, whose secrets I have no right tocommunicate, that I cannot have the advantage of consulting you, or anyother friend. It is possible I may be soon obliged to lay aside thisreserve, and vindicate myself before the whole public. I will not fail,when that time shall arrive, to take an early opportunity ofconfidential communication with you."

  "That is right--confidential is the word--No person ever made aconfidant of me who repented it--Think what the Pacha might have made ofit, had he taken my advice, and cut through the Isthmus of Suez.--Turkand Christian, men of all tongues and countries, used to consult oldTouchwood, from the building of a mosque down to the settling of an_agio_.--But come--Good-night--good-night."

  So saying, he took up his bedroom light, and extinguished one of thosewhich stood on the table, nodded to Tyrrel to discharge his share of theduty imposed by Mrs. Dods with the same punctuality, and they withdrewto their several apartments, entertaining very different sentiments ofeach other.

  "A troublesome, inquisitive old gentleman," said Tyrrel to himself; "Iremember him narrowly escaping the bastinado at Smyrna, for thrustinghis advice on the Turkish cadi--and then I lie under a considerableobligation to him, giving him a sort of right to annoy me--Well, I mustparry his impertinence as I can."

  "A shy cock this Frank Tyrrel," thought the traveller; "a very completedodger!--But no matter--I shall wind him, were he to double like afox--I am resolved to make his matters my own, and if _I_ cannot carryhim through, I know not who can."

  Having formed this philanthropic resolution, Mr. Touchwood threw himselfinto bed, which luckily declined exactly at the right angle, and, fullof self-complacency, consigned himself to slumber.