Salute to Adventurers

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER III.

  THE CANONGATE TOLBOOTH.

  "Never daunton youth" was, I remember, a saying of my grandmother's;but it was the most dauntoned youth in Scotland that now jogged overthe moor to the Edinburgh highroad. I had a swimming head, and a hardcrupper to grate my ribs at every movement, and my captor would shiftme about with as little gentleness as if I had been a bag of oats forhis horse's feed. But it was the ignominy of the business that kept meon the brink of tears. First, I was believed to be one of the maniaccompany of the Sweet-Singers, whom my soul abhorred; _item_, I had beenworsted by a trooper with shameful ease, so that my manhood cried outagainst me. Lastly, I had cut the sorriest figure in the eyes of thatproud girl. For a moment I had been bold, and fancied myself hersaviour, but all I had got by it was her mocking laughter.

  They took us down from the hill to the highroad a little north ofLinton village, where I was dumped on the ground, my legs untied, andmy hands strapped to a stirrup leather. The women were given a countrycart to ride in, and the men, including Muckle John, had to run each bya trooper's leg. The girl on the sorrel had gone, and so had the maidJanet, for I could not see her among the dishevelled wretches in thecart. The thought of that girl filled me with bitter animosity. Shemust have known that I was none of Gib's company, for had I not riskedmy life at the muzzle of his pistol? I had taken her part as bravely asI knew how, but she had left me to be dragged to Edinburgh without aword. Women had never come much my way, but I had a boy's distrust ofthe sex; and as I plodded along the highroad, with every now and then acuff from a trooper's fist to cheer me, I had hard thoughts of theirheartlessness.

  We were a pitiful company as, in the bright autumn sun, we came in bythe village of Liberton, to where the reek of Edinburgh rose straightinto the windless weather. The women in the cart kept up a continuallamenting, and Muckle John, who walked between two dragoons with hishands tied to the saddle of each, so that he looked like a crucifiedmalefactor, polluted the air with hideous profanities. He cursedeverything in nature and beyond it, and no amount of clouts on the headwould stem the torrent. Sometimes he would fall to howling like a wolf,and folk ran to their cottage doors to see the portent. Groups ofchildren followed us from every wayside clachan, so that we gave greatentertainment to the dwellers in Lothian that day. The thing infuriatedthe dragoons, for it made them a laughing-stock, and the sins of Gibwere visited upon the more silent prisoners. We were hurried along at acruel pace, so that I had often to run to avoid the dragging at mywrists, and behind us bumped the cart full of wailful women. I was sickfrom fatigue and lack of food, and the South Port of Edinburgh was awelcome sight to me. Welcome, and yet shameful, for I feared at anymoment to see the face of a companion in the jeering crowd that linedthe causeway. I thought miserably of my pleasant lodgings in the Bow,where my landlady, Mistress Macvittie, would be looking at the boxesthe Lanark carrier had brought, and be wondering what had become oftheir master. I saw no light for myself in the business. My father'sill-repute with the Government would tell heavily in my disfavour, andit was beyond doubt that I had assaulted a dragoon. There was nothingbefore me but the plantations or a long spell in some noisome prison.

  The women were sent to the House of Correction to be whipped anddismissed, for there was little against them but foolishness; allexcept one, a virago called Isobel Bone, who was herded with the men.The Canongate Tolbooth was our portion, the darkest and foulest of thecity prisons; and presently I found myself forced through a gateway andup a narrow staircase, into a little chamber in which a score of beingswere already penned. A small unglazed window with iron bars high up onone wall gave us such light and air as was going, but the place reekedwith human breathing, and smelled as rank as a kennel. I have adelicate nose, and I could not but believe on my entrance that an hourof such a hole would be the death of me. Soon the darkness came, and wewere given a tallow dip in a horn lantern hung on a nail to light us tofood. Such food I had never dreamed of. There was a big iron basin ofsome kind of broth, made, as I judged, from offal, from which we drankin pannikins; and with it were hunks of mildewed rye-bread. Onemouthful sickened me, and I preferred to fast. The behaviour of theother prisoners was most seemly, but not so that of my company. Theyscrambled for the stuff like pigs round a trough, and the woman Isobelthreatened with her nails any one who would prevent her. I was blackashamed to enter prison with such a crew, and withdrew myself as fardistant as the chamber allowed me.

  I had no better task than to look round me at those who had tenantedthe place before our coming. There were three women, decent-lookingbodies, who talked low in whispers and knitted. The men were mostlycountryfolk, culled, as I could tell by their speech, from the westcountry, whose only fault, no doubt, was that they had attended somefield-preaching. One old man, a minister by his dress, sat apart on astone bench, and with closed eyes communed with himself. I ventured toaddress him, for in that horrid place he had a welcome air of sobrietyand sense.

  He asked me for my story, and when he heard it looked curiously atMuckle John, who was now reciting gibberish in a corner.

  "So that is the man Gib," he said musingly. "I have heard tell of him,for he was a thorn in the flesh of blessed Mr. Cargill. Often have Iheard him repeat how he went to Gib in the moors to reason with him inthe Lord's name, and got nothing but a mouthful of devilishblasphemies. He is without doubt a child of Belial, as much as anyproud persecutor. Woe is the Kirk, when her foes shall be of her ownhousehold, for it is with the words of the Gospel that he seeks tooverthrow the Gospel work. And how is it with you, my son? Do you seekto add your testimony to the sweet savour which now ascends from moors,mosses, peat-bogs, closes, kennels, prisons, dungeons, ay, andscaffolds in this distressed land of Scotland? You have not told meyour name."

  When he heard it he asked for my father, whom he had known in old daysat Edinburgh College. Then he inquired into my religious condition withso much fatherly consideration that I could take no offence, but toldhim honestly that I was little of a partisan, finding it hard enough tokeep my own feet from temptation without judging others. "I am weary,"I said, "of all covenants and resolutions and excommunications and theconstraining of men's conscience either by Government or sectaries.Some day, and I pray that it may be soon, both sides will be dead oftheir wounds, and there will arise in Scotland men who will preachpeace and tolerance, and heal the grievously irritated sores of thisland."

  He sighed as he heard me. "I fear you are still far from grace, lad,"he said. "You are shaping for a Laodicean, of whom there are many inthese latter times. I do not know. It may be that God wills that theLaodiceans have their day, for the fires of our noble covenant haveflamed too smokily. Yet those fires die not, and sometime they willkindle up, purified and strengthened, and will burn the trash andstubble and warm God's feckless people."

  He was so old and gentle that I had no heart for disputation, and couldonly beseech his blessing. This he gave me and turned once more to hisdevotions. I was very weary, my head was splitting with the foul air ofthe place, and I would fain have got me to sleep. Some dirty straw hadbeen laid round the walls of the room for the prisoners to lie on, andI found a neuk close by the minister's side.

  But sleep was impossible, for Muckle John got another fit of cursing Hestood up by the door with his eyes blazing like a wild-cat's, anddelivered what he called his "testimony." His voice had been used toshout orders on shipboard, and not one of us could stop his earsagainst it. Never have I heard such a medley of profane nonsense. Hecursed the man Charles Stuart, and every councillor by name; he cursedthe Persecutors, from his Highness of York down to one Welch ofBorrowstoneness, who had been the means of his first imprisonment; hecursed the indulged and tolerated ministers; and he cursed every man ofthe hill-folk whose name he could remember. He testified against alldues and cesses, against all customs and excises, taxes and burdens;against beer and ale and wines and tobacco; against mumming andpeep-shows and dancing, and every sort of play; against Christmas andEaster and Pentecost and Hog
manay. Then most nobly did he embark ontheology. He made short work of hell and shorter work of heaven. Heraved against idolaters of the Kirk and of the Bible, and against allpreachers who, by his way of it, had perverted the Word. As he went on,I began to fancy that Muckle John's true place was with the Mussulmans,for he left not a stick of Christianity behind him.

  Such blasphemy on the open hill-side had been shocking enough, but inthat narrow room it was too horrid to be borne. The minister stuck hisfingers in his ears, and, advancing to the maniac, bade him be silentbefore God should blast him. But what could his thin old voice doagainst Gib's bellowing? The mariner went on undisturbed, and gave theold man a blow with his foot which sent him staggering to the floor.

  The thing had become too much for my temper. I cried on the other mento help me, but none stirred, for Gib seemed to cast an unholy spell onordinary folk. But my anger and discomfort banished all fear, and Irushed at the prophet in a whirlwind. He had no eyes for my coming tillmy head took him fairly in the middle, and drove the breath out of hischest. That quieted his noise, and he turned on me with something likewholesome human wrath in his face.

  Now, I was no match for this great being with my ungrown strength, butthe lesson of my encounter with the dragoon was burned on my mind, andI was determined to keep out of grips with him. I was light on my feet,and in our country bouts had often worsted a heavier antagonist by myquickness in movement. So when Muckle John leaped to grab me, I dartedunder his arm, and he staggered half-way across the room. The womenscuttled into a corner, all but the besom Isobel, who made clutches atmy coat.

  Crying "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon," Gib made a great lunge atme with his fist. But the sword of Gideon missed its aim, and skinnedits knuckles on the stone wall. I saw now to my great comfort that theman was beside himself with fury, and was swinging his arms wildly likea flail. Three or four times I avoided his rushes, noting withsatisfaction that one of the countrymen had got hold of the shriekingIsobel. Then my chance came, for as he lunged I struck from the sidewith all my force on his jaw. I am left-handed, and the blow wasunlocked for. He staggered back a step, and I deftly tripped him up, sothat he fell with a crash on the hard floor.

  In a second I was on the top of him, shouting to the others to lend mea hand. This they did at last, and so mazed was he with the fall, beinga mighty heavy man, that he scarcely resisted. "If you want a quietnight," I cried, "we must silence this mountebank." With three leathernbelts, one my own and two borrowed, we made fast his feet and arms, Istuffed a kerchief into his mouth, and bound his jaws with another, butnot so tight as to hinder his breathing. Then we rolled him into acorner where he lay peacefully making the sound of a milch cow chewingher cud. I returned to my quarters by the minister's side, andpresently from utter weariness fell into an uneasy sleep.

  * * * * *

  I woke in the morning greatly refreshed for all the closeness of theair, and, the memory of the night's events returning, was muchconcerned as to the future. I could not be fighting with Muckle Johnall the time, and I made no doubt that once his limbs were freed hewould try to kill me. The others were still asleep while I tiptoed overto his corner. At first sight I got a fearsome shock, for I thought hewas dead of suffocation. He had worked the gag out of his mouth, andlay as still as a corpse. But soon I saw that he was sleeping quietly,and in his slumbers the madness had died out of his face. He lookedlike any other sailorman, a trifle ill-favoured of countenance, anddirty beyond the ordinary of sea-folk.

  When the gaoler came with food, we all wakened up, and Gib asked verypeaceably to be released. The gaoler laughed at his predicament, andinquired the tale of it; and when he heard the truth, called for a voteas to what he should do. I was satisfied, from the look of Muckle John,that his dangerous fit was over, so I gave my voice for release. Gibshook himself like a great dog, and fell to his breakfast without aword. I found the thin brose provided more palatable than the soup ofthe evening before, and managed to consume a pannikin of it. As Ifinished, I perceived that Gib had squatted by my side. There wasclearly some change in the man, for he gave the woman Isobel some veryill words when she started ranting.

  Up in the little square of window one could see a patch of clear sky,with white clouds crossing it, and a gust of the clean air of morningwas blown into our cell. Gib sat looking at it with his eyesabstracted, so that I feared a renewal of his daftness.

  "Can ye whistle 'Jenny Nettles,' sir?" he asked me civilly.

  It was surely a queer request in that place and from such a fellow. ButI complied, and to the best of my skill rendered the air.

  He listened greedily. "Ay, you've got it," he said, humming it afterme. "I aye love the way of it. Yon's the tune I used to whistle mysel'on shipboard when the weather was clear."

  He had the seaman's trick of thinking of the weather first thing in themorning, and this little thing wrought a change in my view of him. Hismadness was seemingly like that of an epileptic, and when it passed hewas a simple creature with a longing for familiar things.

  "The wind's to the east," he said. "I could wish I were beating downthe Forth in the _Loupin' Jean._ She was a trim bit boat for him thatcould handle her."

  "Man," I said, "what made you leave a clean job for the ravings ofyesterday?"

  "I'm in the Lord's hands," he said humbly. "I'm but a penny whistle forHis breath to blow on." This he said with such solemnity that themeaning of a fanatic was suddenly revealed to me. One or two distortednotions, a wild imagination, and fierce passions, and there you havethe ingredients ready. But moments of sense must come, when the betternature of the man revives. I had a thought that the clout he got on thestone floor had done much to clear his wits.

  "What will they do wi' me, think ye?" he asked. "This is the secondtime I've fallen into the hands o' the Amalekites, and it's no likelythey'll let me off sae lightly."

  "What will they do with us all?" said I. "The Plantations maybe, or theBass! It's a bonny creel you've landed me in, for I'm as innocent as anewborn babe."

  The notion of the Plantations seemed to comfort him. "I've been thereafore, once in the brig _John Rolfe_ o' Greenock, and once in the_Luckpenny _o' Leith. It's a het land but a bonny, and full o' allmanner o' fruits. You can see tobacco growin' like aits, and mair bigtrees in one plantin' than in all the shire o' Lothian. Besides--"

  But I got no more of Muckle John's travels, for the door opened on thatinstant, and the gaoler appeared. He looked at our heads, then singledme out, and cried on me to follow. "Come on, you," he said. "Ye'rewantit in the captain's room."

  I followed in bewilderment; for I knew something of the law's delays,and I could not believe that my hour of trial had come already. The mantook me down the turret stairs and through a long passage to a doorwhere stood two halberdiers. Through this he thrust me, and I foundmyself in a handsome panelled apartment with the city arms carved abovethe chimney. A window stood open, and I breathed the sweet, fresh airwith delight. But I caught a reflection of myself in the polished steelof the fireplace, and my spirits fell, for a more woebegone ruffian myeyes had never seen. I was as dirty as a collier, my coat was half offmy back from my handling on the moor, and there were long rents at theknees of my breeches.

  Another door opened, and two persons entered. One was a dapper littleman with a great wig, very handsomely dressed in a plum-coloured silkencoat, with a snowy cravat at his neck. At the sight of the other myface crimsoned, for it was the girl who had sung Montrose's song in therain.

  The little gentleman looked at me severely, and then turned to hiscompanion. "Is this the fellow, Elspeth?" he inquired. "He looks asorry rascal."

  The minx pretended to examine me carefully. Her colour was high withthe fresh morning, and she kept tapping her boot with her whip handle.

  "Why, yes, Uncle Gregory," she said, "It is the very man, though nonethe better for your night's attentions."

  "And you say he had no part in Gib's company, but interfered on yourbehalf when th
e madman threatened you?"

  "Such was his impertinence," she said, "as if I were not a match for adozen crazy hill-folk. But doubtless the lad meant well."

  "It is also recorded against him that he assaulted one of His Majesty'sservants, to wit, the trooper John Donald, and offered to hinder him inthe prosecution of his duty."

  "La, uncle!" cried the girl, "who is to distinguish friend from foe ina mellay? Have you never seen a dog in a fight bite the hand of one whowould succour him?"

  "Maybe, maybe," said the gentleman. "Your illustrations, Elspeth, woulddo credit to His Majesty's advocate. Your plea is that this young man,whose name I do not know and do not seek to hear, should be freed orjustice will miscarry? God knows the law has enough to do withoutclogging its wheels with innocence."

  The girl nodded. Her wicked, laughing eyes roamed about the apartmentwith little regard for my flushed face.

  "Then the Crown assoilzies the panel and deserts the diet," said thelittle gentleman. "Speak, sir, and thank His Majesty for his clemencyand this lady for her intercession."

  I had no words, for if I had been sore at my imprisonment, I was blackangry at this manner of release. I did not reflect that Miss ElspethBlair must have risen early and ridden far to be in the Canongate atthis hour. 'Twas justice only that moved her, I thought, and nogratitude or kindness. To her I was something so lowly that she neednot take the pains to be civil, but must speak of me in my presence asif it were a question of a stray hound. My first impulse was to refuseto stir, but happily my good sense returned in time and preserved mefrom playing the fool.

  "I thank you, sir," I said gruffly--"and the lady. Do I understand thatI am free to go?"

  "Through the door, down the left stairway, and you will be in thestreet," said the gentleman.

  I made some sort of bow and moved to the door.

  "Farewell, Mr. Whiggamore," the girl cried, "Keep a cheerfulcountenance, or they'll think you a Sweet-Singer. Your breeches willmend, man."

  And with her laughter most unpleasantly in my ears I made my way intothe Canongate, and so to my lodgings at Mrs. Macvittie's.

  * * * * *

  Three weeks later I heard that Muckle John was destined for thePlantations in a ship of Mr. Barclay of Urie's, which traded to NewJersey. I had a fancy to see him before he went, and after much troubleI was suffered to visit him. His gaoler told me he had been mighty wildduring his examination before the Council, and had had frequent boutsof madness since, but for the moment he was peaceable. I found him in alittle cell by himself, outside the common room of the gaol. He wassitting in an attitude of great dejection, and when I entered couldscarcely recall me to his memory. I remember thinking that, what withhis high cheek-bones, and lank black hair, and brooding eyes, and greatmuscular frame, Scotland could scarcely have furnished a wilder figurefor the admiration of the Carolinas, or wherever he went to. I did notenvy his future master.

  But with me he was very friendly and quiet. His ailment washome-sickness; for though he had been a great voyager, it seemed he wasloath to quit our bleak countryside for ever. "I used aye to think o'the first sight o' Inchkeith and the Lomond hills, and the smell o'herrings at the pier o' Leith. What says the Word? '_Weep not for thedead, neither bemoan him; but weep sore for him that goeth away, for heshall return no more, nor see his native country_.'"

  I asked him if I could do him any service.

  "There's a woman at Cramond," he began timidly. "She might like to kenwhat had become o' me. Would ye carry a message?"

  I did better, for at Gib's dictation I composed for her a letter, sincehe could not write. I wrote it on some blank pages from my pocket whichI used for College notes. It was surely the queerest love-letter everindited, for the most part of it was theology, and the rest wasinstructions for the disposing of his scanty plenishing. I haveforgotten now what I wrote, but I remember that the woman's name wasAlison Steel.