by John Galt
CHAPTER VI
Many a time did my grandfather, in his old age, when all things he spokewere but remembrances, try to tell what passed in his bosom while he wassitting alone, under those cliffy rocks, gazing on the silent andinnocent sea, thinking of that dreadful work, more hideous than thehorrors of winds and waves, with which blinded men, in the lusts oftheir idolatry, were then blackening the ethereal face of heaven; but hewas ever unable to proceed for the struggles of his spirit and thegushing of his tears. Verily it was an awful thing to see thatpatriarchal man overcome by the recollections of his youth; and themanner in which he spoke of the papistical cruelties was as the pouringof the energy of a new life into the very soul, instigating thoughts andresolutions of an implacable enmity against those ruthless adversariesto the hopes and redemption of the world, insomuch that, while yet achild, I was often worked upon by what he said, and felt my young heartso kindled with the live coals of his godly enthusiasm, that he himselfhas stopped in the eloquence of his discourse, wondering at my fervour.Then he would lay his hand upon my head, and say, the Lord had notgifted me with such zeal without having a task in store for my riperyears. His words of prophecy, as shall hereafter appear, have greatlyand wonderfully come to pass. But it is meet that for a season I shouldrehearse what ensued to him, for his story is full of solemnities andstrange accidents.
Having rested some time on the sea-shore, he rose and walked along thetoilsome shingle, scarcely noting which way he went--his thoughts beingbusy with the martyrdom he had witnessed, flushing one moment with aglorious indignation, and fainting the next with despondent reflectionson his own friendless state. For he looked upon himself as adrift on thetides of the world, believing that his patron, the Earl of Glencairn,would to a surety condemn his lack of fortitude in not enduring theservitude of the Archbishop, after having been in so miraculous a manneraccepted into it, even as if Providence had made him a specialinstrument to achieve the discoveries which the Lords of theCongregation had then so much at heart. And while he was walking alongin this fluctuating mood, he came suddenly upon a man who was sitting,as he had so shortly before been himself, sad and solitary, gazing onthe sea. The stranger, on hearing him approach, rose hastily, and wasmoving quickly away; but my grandfather called to him to stop and not tobe afraid, for he would harm no one.
"I thought," said the melancholy man, "that all his Grace's retainerswere at the execution of the heretic."
There was something in the way in which he uttered the latter clause ofthe sentence that seemed to my grandfather as if he would have made useof better and fitter words, and therefore, to encourage him intoconfidence, he replied,--
"I belong not to his Grace."
"How is it, then, that you wear his livery, and that I saw you, with SirDavid Hamilton, enter the garden of that misguided woman?"
He could proceed no farther, for his heart swelled, and his utterancewas for a while stifled, he being no other than the misfortunate Bailieof Crail, whose light wife had sunk into the depravity of theArchbishop's lemane. She had been beguiled away from him and her fivebabies, their children, by the temptations of a Dominican, who, by habitand repute, was pandarus to his Grace, and the poor man had come to tryif it was possible to wile her back.
My grandfather was melted with sorrow to see his great affection for theunworthy concubine, calling to mind the scene of her harlotry and wantonglances, and he reasoned with him on the great folly of vexing hisspirit for a woman so far lost to all shame and given over to iniquity.But still the good man of Crail would not be persuaded, but used manyearnest entreaties that my grandfather would assist him to see his wife,in order that he might remonstrate with her on the eternal perils inwhich she had placed her precious soul.
My grandfather, though much moved by the importunity of that weak,honest man, nevertheless withstood his entreaties, telling him that hewas minded to depart forthwith from St Andrews, and make the best of hisway back to Edinburgh, and so could embark in no undertaking whatever.
Discoursing on that subject in this manner, they strayed into thefields, and being wrapt up in their conversation, they heeded not whichway they went, till, turning suddenly round the corner of an orchard,they saw the castle full before them, about half a mile off, and a dimwhite vapour mounting at times from the spot, still surrounded by manyspectators, where the fires of martyrdom had burnt so fiercely.Shuddering and filled with dread, my grandfather turned away, and seeingseveral countrymen passing, he inquired if all was over.
"Yes," said they, "and the soldiers are slockening the ashes; but a' thewaters of the ocean-sea will never quench in Scotland the flame that waskindled yonder this day."
The which words they said with a proud look, thinking my grandfather, byhis arms and gabardine, belonged to the Archbishop's household; but thewords were as manna to his religious soul, and he gave inward praise andthanks that the selfsame tragical means which had been devised toterrify the reformers was thus, through the mysterious wisdom ofProvidence, made more emboldening than courageous wine to fortify theirhearts for the great work that was before them.
Nothing, however, farther passed; but, changing the course of theirwalk, my grandfather and the sorrowful Master Kilspinnie--for so thepoor man of Crail was called--went back, and, entering the bow at theShoegate, passed on towards a vintner's that dwelt opposite to theconvent of the Blackfriars; for the day was by this time far advanced,and they both felt themselves in need of some refreshment.
While they were sitting together in the vintner's apartment, a striplingcame several times into the room, and looked hard at my grandfather, andthen went away without speaking. This was divers times repeated, and atlast it was so remarkable that even Master Kilspinnie took notice ofhim, observing, that he seemed as if he had something very particular tocommunicate, if an opportunity served, offering at the same time towithdraw, to leave the room clear for the youth to tell his errand.
My grandfather's curiosity was, by this strange and new adventure tohim, so awakened, that he thought what his companion proposed a discreetthing; so the honest Bailie of Crail withdrew himself, and, going intothe street, left my grandfather alone.
No sooner was he gone out of the house than the stripling, who had beensorning about the door, again came in, and, coming close up to mygrandfather's ear, said, with a significance not to be misconstrued,that if he would follow him he would take him to free quarters, where hewould be more kindly entertained.
My grandfather, though naturally of a quiet temperament, wasnevertheless a bold and brave youth, and there was something in themystery of this message--for such he rightly deemed it--that made himfain to see the end thereof. So he called in the vintner's wife and paidher the lawin', telling her to say to the friend who had been with him,when he came back, that he would soon return.
The vintner's wife was a buxom and jolly dame, and before taking up themoney, she gave a pawkie look at the stripling, and as my grandfatherand he were going out at the door, she hit the gilly a bilf on the back,saying it was a ne'er-do-weel trade he had ta'en up, and that he wasnablate to wile awa' her customers, crying after him, "I redde ye warnyour madam that gin she sends you here again, I'll maybe let his Graceken that her cauldron needs clouting." However, the graceless gilly butlaughed at the vintner's wife, winking as he patted the side of his nosewith his fore-finger, which testified that he held her vows of vengeancein very little reverence; and then he went on, my grandfather following.
They walked up the street till they came to the priory yett, when,turning down a wynd to the left, he led my grandfather along between twodykes, till they were come to a house that stood by itself within a fairgarden. But instead of going to the door in an honest manner, he badehim stop, and going forward he whistled shrilly, and then flung threestones against a butt, that was standing at the corner of the house on agauntrees to kep rain water from the spouting image of a stone puddockthat vomited what was gathered from the roof in the rones, and soonafter an upper casement was opened, and a dams
el looked forth; shehowever said nothing to the stripling, but she made certain signs whichhe understood, and then she drew in her head, shutting the casementsoftly, and he came back to my grandfather, to whom he said it was notcommodious at that time for him to be received into the house, but if hewould come back in the dark, at eight o'clock, all things would be readyfor his reception.
To this suggestion my grandfather made no scruple to assent, butpromised to be there; and he bargained with the lad to come for him,giving him at the same time three placks for a largess. He then returnedto the vintner's, where he found the Crail man sitting waiting for him;and the vintner's wife, when she saw him so soon back, jeered him, andwould fain have been jocose, which he often after thought a wofulimmorality, considering the dreadful martyrdom of a godly man that hadbeen done that day in the town; but at the time he was not so overstrait-laced as to take offence at what she said; indeed, as he used tosay, sins were not so heinous in those papistical days as theyafterwards became, when men lost faith in penance, and found out theperils of purchased pardons.