by John Galt
CHAPTER XIV
As my grandfather came in sight of Kilwinning, and beheld the abbey withits lofty horned towers and spiky pinnacles and the sands of Cunninghambetween it and the sea, it seemed to him as if a huge leviathan had comeup from the depths of the ocean and was devouring the green inland,having already consumed all the herbage of the wide waste that lay sobare and yellow for many a mile, desert, and lonely in the silentsunshine, and he ejaculated to himself that the frugal soil of poorScotland could ne'er have been designed to pasture such enormities.
As he rode on, his path descended from the heights into pleasant tracksalong banks feathered with the fragrant plumage of the birch and hazel,and he forgot, in hearkening to the cheerful prattle of the Garnockwaters, as they swirled among the pebbles by the roadside, thepageantries of that mere bodily worship which had worked on theignorance of the world to raise such costly monuments of thelong-suffering patience of Heaven, while they showed how much the divinenature of the infinite God and the humility of His eternal Son had beenforgotten in this land among professing Christians.
When he came nigh the town he inquired for an hostel, and a stripling,the miller's son, who was throwing stones at a flock of geese belongingto the abbey, then taking their pleasures uninvited in his father'smill-dam, guided him to the house of Theophilus Lugton, the chiefvintner, horse-setter and stabler in the town, where, on alighting, hewas very kindly received; for the gudewife was of a stirring, householdnature, and Theophilus himself, albeit douce and temperate for apublican, was a man obliging and hospitable, not only as became him inhis trade but from a disinterested good-will. He was, indeed, as mygrandfather came afterwards to know, really a person holden in greatrespect and repute by the visitors and pilgrims who resorted to theabbey, and by none more than by the worthy wives of Irvine, the mostregular of his customers. For they being then in the darkness ofpapistry, were as much given to the idolatry of holidays and masses as,thanks be and praise! they are now to the hunting out of sound gospelpreachers and sacramental occasions. Many a stoup of burnt wine andspiced ale they were wont at Pace and Yule and other papistal high timesto partake of together in the house of Theophilus Lugton, happy and wellcontent when their possets were flavoured with the ghostly conversationof some gawsie monk well versed in the mysteries of requiems andpurgatory.
Having parted with his horse to be taken to the stable by Theophilushimself, my grandfather walked into the house, and Dame Lugton set forhim an elbow-chair by the chimla lug, and while she was preparingsomething for a repast they fell into conversation, in the course ofwhich she informed him that a messenger had come to the abbey thatforenoon from Edinburgh, and a rumour had been bruited about soon afterhis arrival that there was great cause to dread a rising among theheretics, for, being ingrained with papistry, she so spoke of theReformers.
This news troubled my grandfather not a little, and the more he inquiredconcerning the tidings the more reason he got to be alarmed and tosuspect that the bearer was Winterton, who being still in the town, andthen at the abbey--his horse was in Theophilus Lugton's stable--he couldnot but think that in coming to Kilwinning instead of going right on toKilmarnock he had run into the lion's mouth. But, seeing it was so, andcould not be helped, he put his trust in the Lord and resolved to swervein no point from the straight line which he had laid down for himself.
While he was eating of Dame Lugton's fare with the relishing sauce of akeen appetite, in a manner that no one who saw him could have supposedhe was almost sick with a surfeit of anxieties, one James Coom, a smith,came in for a mutchkin-cap of ale, and he, seeing a traveller, said,--
"Thir's sair news! The drouth of cauld iron will be slockened in men'sblood ere we hear the end o't."
"'Deed," replied my grandfather, "it's very alarming; Lucky, here, hasjust been telling me that there's likely to be a straemash among theReformers. Surely they'll ne'er daur to rebel."
"If a' tales be true, that's no to do," said the smith, blowing thefroth from the cap in which Dame Lugton handed him the ale, and taking aright good-willy waught.
"But what's said?" inquired my grandfather, when the smith had fetchedhis breath.
"Naebody can weel tell," was his response; "a' that's come this lengthis but the sough afore the storm. Within twa hours there has been agreat riding hither and yon, and a lad straight frae Embro' has come tobid my Lord Abbot repair to the court; and three chiels hae been at mefrae Eglinton Castle to get their beast shod for a journey. My Lordthere is hyte and fykie; there's a gale in his tail, said they, lightwhere it may. Now, atween oursels, my Lord has na the heart of a truebairn to that aged and worthy grannie of the papistry, our leddy theVirgin Mary--here's her health, poor auld deaf and dumb creature--shehas na, I doubt, the pith to warsle wi' the blast she ance in a dayhad."
"Haud that heretical tongue o' thine, Jamie Coom," exclaimed DameLugton. "It's enough to gaur a body's hair stand on end to hear o' yourfamiliarities wi' the Holy Virgin. I won'er my Lord Abbot has nalangsyne tethert thy tongue to the kirk door wi' a red-het nail for sicblasphemy. But fools are privileged, and so's seen o' thee."
"And wha made me familiar wi' her, Dame Lugton, tell me that?" repliedJames; "was na it my Lord himself at last Marymas, when he sent for meto make a hoop to mend her leg that sklintered aff as they were dressingher for the show. Eh! little did I think that I was ever to hae thehonour and glory of ca'ing a nail intil the timber hip o' the VirginMary! Ah, Lucky, ye would na hae tholed the dirl o' the dints o' myhammer as she did. But she's a saint, and ye'll ne'er deny that ye're asinner."
To this Dame Lugton was unable to reply, and the smith, cunninglywinking, dippet his head up to the lugs in the ale-cap.
"But," said my grandfather, "no to speak wi' disrespeck of thingsconsidered wi' reverence, it does na seem to me that there is ony causeto think the Reformers hae yet rebelled."
"I am sure," replied the smith, "if they hae na they ought, or the de'ila spunk's amang them. Isna a' the monks frae John o' Groat's to theBorder getting ready their spits and rackses, frying-pans and brandersto cook them like capons and doos for Horney's supper? I never hear myain bellows snoring at a gaud o' iron in the fire but I think o' fatFather Lickladle, the abbey's head kitchener, roasting me o'er the lowlike a laverock in his collop-tangs; for, as Dame Lugton there weelkens, I'm ane o' the Reformed. Heh! but it's a braw thing thisReformation. It used to cost me as muckle siller for the sin o' gettingfu', no aboon three or four times in the year, as would hae kept onyhonest man blithe and ree frae New'erday to Hogmanae; but our worthyhostess has found to her profit that I'm now ane of her best customers.What say ye, Lucky?"
"Truly," said Dame Lugton, laughing, "thou's no an ill swatch o' theReformers; and naebody need be surprised at the growth o' heresy whathinks o' the dreadfu' cost the professors o't used to be at forpardons. But maybe they'll soon find that the de'il's as hard a taxer ase'er the kirk was; for ever since thou has refraint frae paying penance,thy weekly calks ahint the door ha'e been on the increase, Jamie, and noae plack has thou mair to spare. So muckle gude thy reforming has donethee."
"Bide awee, Lucky," cried the smith, setting down the ale-cap which hehad just emptied; "bide awee, and ye'll see a change. Surely it was tobe expecket, considering the spark in my hass, that the first use Iwould mak' o' the freedom o' the Reformation would be to quench it,which I never was allowed to do afore; and whenever that's done, ye'llsee me a geizen't keg o' sobriety, tak the word o' a drouthy smithfor't."
At this jink o' their controversy who should come into the house,ringing ben to the hearth-stane with his iron heels and the rattlingrowels o' his spurs, but Winterton, without observing my grandfather,who was then sitting with his back to the window light, in the arm-chairat the chimla lug; and when he had ordered Dame Lugton to spice him adrink of her best brewing, he began to joke and jibe with theblacksmith, the which allowing my grandfather time to compose his wits,which were in a degree startled. He saw that he could not but bediscovered, so he thought it was best to
bring himself out. Accordingly,in as quiet a manner as he was able to put on, he said to Winterton,--
"I hae a notion that we twa ha'e forgathered no lang sincesyne."
At the sound of these words Winterton gave a loup, as if he had trampedon something no canny, syne a whirring sort of triumphant whistle, andthen a shout, crying,--
"Ha, ha! tod lowrie! hae I yirded you at last?" But instanter herecollected himsel', and giving my grandfather a significant look, as ifhe wished him no to be particular, he said, "I heard o' you, Gilhaize,on the road, and I was fain to hae come up wi' you, that we might haetravelled thegither. Howsever, I lost scent at Glasgow." And then hecontinued to haver with him, in his loose and profligate manner, anentthe Glasgow damsels, till the ale was ready, when he pressed mygrandfather to taste, never letting wot how they had slept together inthe same bed; and my grandfather, on his part, was no less circumspect,for he discerned that Winterton intended to come over him, and he wasresolved to be on his guard.