by Walter Scott
She speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it doth move The hearers to collection; they aim at it, And botch the words up to fit their own thoughts. Hamlet.
Like the digressive poet Ariosto, I find myself under the necessity ofconnecting the branches of my story, by taking up the adventures ofanother of the characters, and bringing them down to the point at whichwe have left those of Jeanie Deans. It is not, perhaps, the mostartificial way of telling a story, but it has the advantage of sparingthe necessity of resuming what a knitter (if stocking-looms have leftsuch a person in the land) might call our "dropped stitches;" a labour inwhich the author generally toils much, without getting credit for hispains.
"I could risk a sma' wad," said the clerk to the magistrate, "that thisrascal Ratcliffe, if he were insured of his neck's safety, could do morethan ony ten of our police-people and constables to help us to get out ofthis scrape of Porteous's. He is weel acquent wi' a' the smugglers,thieves, and banditti about Edinburgh; and, indeed, he may be called thefather of a' the misdoers in Scotland, for he has passed amang them forthese twenty years by the name of Daddie Rat."
"A bonny sort of a scoundrel," replied the magistrate, "to expect a placeunder the city!"
"Begging your honour's pardon," said the city's procurator-fiscal, uponwhom the duties of superintendent of police devolved, "Mr. Fairscrieve isperfectly in the right. It is just sic as Ratcliffe that the town needsin my department; an' if sae be that he's disposed to turn his knowledgeto the city service, yell no find a better man.--Ye'll get nae saints tobe searchers for uncustomed goods, or for thieves and sic like;--and yourdecent sort of men, religious professors, and broken tradesmen, that areput into the like o' sic trust, can do nae gude ava. They are feared forthis, and they are scrupulous about that, and they arena free to tell alie, though it may be for the benefit of the city; and they dinna like tobe out at irregular hours, and in a dark cauld night, and they like aclout ower the crown far waur; and sae between the fear o' God, and thefear o' man, and the fear o' getting a sair throat, or sair banes,there's a dozen o' our city-folk, baith waiters, and officers, andconstables, that can find out naething but a wee bit skulduddery for thebenefit of the Kirk treasurer. Jock Porteous, that's stiff and stark,puir fallow, was worth a dozen o' them; for he never had ony fears, orscruples, or doubts, or conscience, about onything your honours badehim."
"He was a gude servant o' the town," said the Bailie, "though he was anower free-living man. But if you really think this rascal Ratcliffe coulddo us ony service in discovering these malefactors, I would insure himlife, reward, and promotion. It's an awsome thing this mischance for thecity, Mr. Fairscrieve. It will be very ill taen wi' abune stairs. QueenCaroline, God bless her! is a woman--at least I judge sae, and it's naetreason to speak my mind sae far--and ye maybe ken as weel as I do, forye hae a housekeeper, though ye arena a married man, that women arewilfu', and downa bide a slight. And it will sound ill in her ears, thatsic a confused mistake suld come to pass, and naebody sae muckle as to beput into the Tolbooth about it."
"If ye thought that, sir," said the procurator-fiscal, "we could easilyclap into the prison a few blackguards upon suspicion. It will have agude active look, and I hae aye plenty on my list, that wadna be a hairthe waur of a week or twa's imprisonment; and if ye thought it nostrictly just, ye could be just the easier wi' them the neist time theydid onything to deserve it; they arena the sort to be lang o' gieing yean opportunity to clear scores wi' them on that account."
"I doubt that will hardly do in this case, Mr. Sharpitlaw," returned thetown-clerk; "they'll run their letters,* and be adrift again, before yeken where ye are."
* A Scottish form of procedure, answering, in some respects, to theEnglish Habeas Corpus.
"I will speak to the Lord Provost," said the magistrate, "aboutRatcliffe's business. Mr. Sharpitlaw, you will go with me, and receiveinstructions--something may be made too out of this story of Butler's andhis unknown gentleman--I know no business any man has to swagger about inthe King's Park, and call himself the devil, to the terror of honestfolks, who dinna care to hear mair about the devil than is said from thepulpit on the Sabbath. I cannot think the preacher himsell wad be headingthe mob, though the time has been, they hae been as forward in a bruilzieas their neighbours."
"But these times are lang by," said Mr. Sharpitlaw. "In my father's time,there was mair search for silenced ministers about the Bow-head and theCovenant Close, and all the tents of Kedar, as they ca'd the dwellings o'the godly in those days, than there's now for thieves and vagabonds inthe Laigh Calton and the back o' the Canongate. But that time's weel by,an it bide. And if the Bailie will get me directions and authority fromthe Provost, I'll speak wi' Daddie Rat mysell; for I'm thinking I'll makemair out o' him than ye'll do."
Mr. Sharpitlaw, being necessarily a man of high trust, was accordinglyempowered, in the course of the day, to make such arrangements as mightseem in the emergency most advantageous for the Good Town. He went to thejail accordingly, and saw Ratcliffe in private.
The relative positions of a police-officer and a professed thief bear adifferent complexion, according to circumstances. The most obvious simileof a hawk pouncing upon his prey is often least applicable. Sometimes theguardian of justice has the air of a cat watching a mouse, and, while hesuspends his purpose of springing upon the pilferer, takes care so tocalculate his motions that he shall not get beyond his power. Sometimes,more passive still, he uses the art of fascination ascribed to therattlesnake, and contents himself with glaring on the victim, through allhis devious flutterings; certain that his terror, confusion, and disorderof ideas, will bring him into his jaws at last. The interview betweenRatcliffe and Sharpitlaw had an aspect different from all these. They satfor five minutes silent, on opposite sides of a small table, and lookedfixedly at each other, with a sharp, knowing, and alert cast ofcountenance, not unmingled with an inclination to laugh, and resembledmore than anything else, two dogs, who, preparing for a game at romps,are seen to couch down, and remain in that posture for a little time,watching each other's movements, and waiting which shall begin the game.
"So, Mr. Ratcliffe," said the officer, conceiving it suited his dignityto speak first, "you give up business, I find?"
"Yes, sir," replied Ratcliffe; "I shall be on that lay nae mair--and Ithink that will save your folk some trouble, Mr. Sharpitlaw?"
"Which Jock DaIgleish" (then finisher of the law* in the Scottishmetropolis) "wad save them as easily," returned the procurator-fiscal.
* [Among the flying leaves of the period, there is one called"Sutherland's Lament for the loss of his post,--with his advice, to JohnDaglees his successor." He was whipped and banished 25th July 1722. Thereis another, called the Speech and dying words of John Dalgleish, lockman_alias_ hangman of Edinburgh, containing these lines:--
Death, I've a Favour for to beg, That ye wad only gie a Fleg, And spare my Life; As I did to ill-hanged Megg, The Webster's Wife."]
"Ay; if I waited in the Tolbooth here to have him fit my cravat--butthat's an idle way o' speaking, Mr. Sharpitlaw."
"Why, I suppose you know you are under sentence of death, Mr. Ratcliffe?"replied Mr. Sharpitlaw.
"Aye, so are a', as that worthy minister said in the Tolbooth Kirk theday Robertson wan off; but naebody kens when it will be executed. Gudefaith, he had better reason to say sae than he dreamed off, before theplay was played out that morning!"
"This Robertson," said Sharpitlaw, in a lower and something like aconfidential tone, "d'ye ken, Rat--that is, can ye gie us ony inklingwhere he is to be heard tell o'?"
"Troth, Mr. Sharpitlaw, I'll be frank wi' ye; Robertson is rather a cutabune me--a wild deevil he was, and mony a daft prank he played; butexcept the Collec
tor's job that Wilson led him into, and some tuilziesabout run goods wi' the gaugers and the waiters, he never did onythingthat came near our line o' business."
"Umph! that's singular, considering the company he kept."
"Fact, upon my honour and credit," said Ratcliffe, gravely. "He keepitout o' our little bits of affairs, and that's mair than Wilson did; I haedune business wi' Wilson afore now. But the lad will come on in time;there's nae fear o' him; naebody will live the life he has led, but whathe'll come to sooner or later."
"Who or what is he, Ratcliffe? you know, I suppose?" said Sharpitlaw.
"He's better born, I judge, than he cares to let on; he's been a soldier,and he has been a play-actor, and I watna what he has been or hasna been,for as young as he is, sae that it had daffing and nonsense about it."
"Pretty pranks he has played in his time, I suppose?"
"Ye may say that," said Ratcliffe, with a sardonic smile; "and" (touchinghis nose) "a deevil amang the lasses."
"Like enough," said Sharpitlaw. "Weel, Ratcliffe, I'll no stand nifferingwi' ye; ye ken the way that favour's gotten in my office; ye maun beusefu'."
"Certainly, sir, to the best of my power--naething for naething--I kenthe rule of the office," said the ex-depredator.
"Now the principal thing in hand e'en now," said the official person, "isthe job of Porteous's; an ye can gie us a lift--why, the inner turnkey'soffice to begin wi', and the captainship in time--ye understand mymeaning?"
"Ay, troth do I, sir; a wink's as gude as a nod to a blind horse; butJock Porteous's job--Lord help ye!--I was under sentence the haill time.God! but I couldna help laughing when I heard Jock skirting for mercy inthe lads' hands. Mony a het skin ye hae gien me, neighbour, thought I,tak ye what's gaun: time about's fair play; ye'll ken now what hanging'sgude for."
"Come, come, this is all nonsense, Rat," said the procurator. "Ye cannacreep out at that hole, lad; you must speak to the point--you understandme--if you want favour; gif-gaf makes gude friends, ye ken."
"But how can I speak to the point, as your honour ca's it," saidRatcliffe, demurely, and with an air of great simplicity, "when ye ken Iwas under sentence and in the strong room a' the while the job was goingon?"
"And how can we turn ye loose on the public again, Daddie Rat, unless yedo or say something to deserve it?"
"Well, then, d--n it!" answered the criminal, "since it maun be sae, Isaw Geordie Robertson among the boys that brake the jail; I suppose thatwill do me some gude?"
"That's speaking to the purpose, indeed," said the office-bearer; "andnow, Rat, where think ye we'll find him?"
"Deil haet o' me kens," said Ratcliffe; "he'll no likely gang back to onyo' his auld howffs; he'll be off the country by this time. He has gudefriends some gate or other, for a' the life he's led; he's been weeleducate."
"He'll grace the gallows the better," said Mr. Sharpitlaw; "a desperatedog, to murder an officer of the city for doing his duty! Wha kens wha'sturn it might be next?--But you saw him plainly?"
"As plainly as I see you."
"How was he dressed?" said Sharpitlaw.
"I couldna weel see; something of a woman's bit mutch on his head; but yenever saw sic a ca'-throw. Ane couldna hae een to a' thing."
"But did he speak to no one?" said Sharpitlaw.
"They were a' speaking and gabbling through other," said Ratcliffe, whowas obviously unwilling to carry his evidence farther than he couldpossibly help.
"This will not do, Ratcliffe," said the procurator; "you must speak_out--out--out,_" tapping the table emphatically, as he repeated thatimpressive monosyllable.
"It's very hard, sir," said the prisoner; "and but for theunder-turnkey's place"
"And the reversion of the captaincy--the captaincy of the Tolbooth,man--that is, in case of gude behaviour."
"Ay, ay," said Ratcliffe, "gude behaviour!--there's the deevil. And thenit's waiting for dead folk's shoon into the bargain."
"But Robertson's head will weigh something," said Sharpitlaw; "somethinggey and heavy, Rat; the town maun show cause--that's right andreason--and then ye'll hae freedom to enjoy your gear honestly."
"I dinna ken," said Ratcliffe; "it's a queer way of beginning the tradeof honesty--but deil ma care. Weel, then, I heard and saw him speak tothe wench Effie Deans, that's up there for child-murder."
"The deil ye did? Rat, this is finding a mare's nest wi' a witness.--Andthe man that spoke to Butler in the Park, and that was to meet wi' JeanieDeans at Muschat's Cairn--whew! lay that and that together? As sure as Ilive he's been the father of the lassie's wean."
"There hae been waur guesses than that, I'm thinking," observedRatcliffe, turning his quid of tobacco in his cheek, and squirting outthe juice. "I heard something a while syne about his drawing up wi' abonny quean about the Pleasaunts, and that it was a' Wilson could do tokeep him frae marrying her."
Here a city officer entered, and told Sharpitlaw that they had the womanin custody whom he had directed them to bring before him.
"It's little matter now," said he, "the thing is taking another turn;however, George, ye may bring her in."
The officer retired, and introduced, upon his return, a tall, strappingwench of eighteen or twenty, dressed, fantastically, in a sort of blueriding-jacket, with tarnished lace, her hair clubbed like that of a man,a Highland bonnet, and a bunch of broken feathers, a riding-skirt (orpetticoat) of scarlet camlet, embroidered with tarnished flowers. Herfeatures were coarse and masculine, yet at a little distance, by dint ofvery bright wild-looking black eyes, an aquiline nose, and a commandingprofile, appeared rather handsome. She flourished the switch she held inher hand, dropped a courtesy as low as a lady at a birth-nightintroduction, recovered herself seemingly according to Touchstone'sdirections to Audrey, and opened the conversation without waiting tillany questions were asked.
"God gie your honour gude-e'en, and mony o' them, bonny Mr.Sharpitlaw!--Gude-e'en to ye, Daddie Ratton--they tauld me ye werehanged, man; or did ye get out o' John Dalgleish's hands likehalf-hangit Maggie Dickson?"
"Whisht, ye daft jaud," said Ratcliffe, "and hear what's said to ye."
"Wi' a' my heart, Ratton. Great preferment for poor Madge to be broughtup the street wi' a grand man, wi' a coat a' passemented wi' worset-lace,to speak wi' provosts, and bailies, and town-clerks, and prokitors, atthis time o' day--and the haill town looking at me too--This is honour onearth for ance!"
"Ay, Madge," said Mr. Sharpitlaw, in a coaxing tone; "and ye're dressedout in your braws, I see; these are not your every-days' claiths ye haveon."
"Deil be in my fingers, then!" said Madge--"Eh, sirs!" (observing Butlercome into the apartment), "there's a minister in the Tolbooth--wha willca' it a graceless place now?--I'se warrant he's in for the gude auldcause--but it's be nae cause o' mine," and off she went into a song--
"Hey for cavaliers, ho for cavaliers,Dub a dub, dub a dub,Have at old Beelzebub,--Oliver's squeaking for fear."
"Did you ever see that mad woman before?" said Sharpitlaw to Butler.
"Not to my knowledge, sir," replied Butler.
"I thought as much," said the procurator-fiscal, looking towardsRatcliffe, who answered his glance with a nod of acquiescence andintelligence.--
"But that is Madge Wildfire, as she calls herself," said the man of lawto Butler.
"Ay, that I am," said Madge, "and that I have been ever since I wassomething better--Heigh ho"--(and something like melancholy dwelt on herfeatures for a minute)--"But I canna mind when that was--it was langsyne, at ony rate, and I'll ne'er fash my thumb about it.--
I glance like the wildfire through country and town; I'm seen on the causeway--I'm seen on the down; The lightning that flashes so bright and so free, Is scarcely so blithe or so bonny as me."
"Hand your tongue, ye skirling limmer!" said the officer who had acted asmaster of the ceremonies to this extraordinary performer, and who wasrather scandalised at the freedom of her demeanour before a person of Mr
.Sharpitlaw's importance--"haud your tongue, or I'se gie ye something toskirl for!"
"Let her alone, George," said Sharpitlaw, "dinna put her out o' tune; Ihae some questions to ask her--But first, Mr. Butler, take another lookof her."
"Do sae, minister--do sae," cried Madge; "I am as weel worth looking atas ony book in your aught.--And I can say the single carritch, and thedouble carritch, and justification, and effectual calling, and theassembly of divines at Westminster, that is" (she added in a low tone),"I could say them ance--but it's lang syne--and ane forgets, ye ken." Andpoor Madge heaved another deep sigh.
"Weel, sir," said Mr. Sharpitlaw to Butler, "what think ye now?"
"As I did before," said Butler; "that I never saw the poor dementedcreature in my life before."
"Then she is not the person whom you said the rioters last nightdescribed as Madge Wildfire?"
"Certainly not," said Butler. "They may be near the same height, for theyare both tall, but I see little other resemblance."
"Their dress, then, is not alike?" said Sharpitlaw.
"Not in the least," said Butler.
"Madge, my bonny woman," said Sharpitlaw, in the same coaxing manner,"what did ye do wi' your ilka-day's claise yesterday?"
"I dinna mind," said Madge.
"Where was ye yesterday at e'en, Madge?"
"I dinna mind ony thing about yesterday," answered Madge; "ae day iseneugh for ony body to wun ower wi' at a time, and ower mucklesometimes."
"But maybe, Madge, ye wad mind something about it, if I was to gie yethis half-crown?" said Sharpitlaw, taking out the piece of money.
"That might gar me laugh, but it couldna gar me mind."
"But, Madge," continued Sharpitlaw, "were I to send you to the workhousein Leith Wynd, and gar Jock Dalgleish lay the tawse on your back"
"That wad gar me greet," said Madge, sobbing, "but it couldna gar memind, ye ken."
"She is ower far past reasonable folks' motives, sir," said Ratcliffe,"to mind siller, or John Dalgleish, or the cat-and-nine-tails either; butI think I could gar her tell us something."
"Try her, then, Ratcliffe," said Sharpitlaw, "for I am tired of her crazypate, and be d--d to her."
"Madge," said Ratcliffe, "hae ye ony joes now?"
"An ony body ask ye, say ye dinna ken.--Set him to be speaking of myjoes, auld Daddie Ratton!"
"I dare say, ye hae deil ane?"
"See if I haena then," said Madge, with the toss of the head of affrontedbeauty--"there's Rob the Ranter, and Will Fleming, and then there'sGeordie Robertson, lad--that's Gentleman Geordie--what think ye o' that?"
Ratcliffe laughed, and, winking to the procurator-fiscal, pursued theinquiry in his own way. "But, Madge, the lads only like ye when ye hae onyour braws--they wadna touch you wi' a pair o' tangs when you are in yourauld ilka-day rags."
"Ye're a leeing auld sorrow then," replied the fair one; "for GentleGeordie Robertson put my ilka-day's claise on his ain bonny sellyestreen, and gaed a' through the town wi' them; and gawsie and grand helookit, like ony queen in the land."
"I dinna believe a word o't," said Ratcliffe, with another wink to theprocurator. "Thae duds were a' o' the colour o' moonshine in the water,I'm thinking, Madge--The gown wad be a sky-blue scarlet, I'se warrantye?"
"It was nae sic thing," said Madge, whose unretentive memory let out, inthe eagerness of contradiction, all that she would have most wished tokeep concealed, had her judgment been equal to her inclination. "It wasneither scarlet nor sky-blue, but my ain auld brown threshie-coat of ashort-gown, and my mother's auld mutch, and my red rokelay--and he giedme a croun and a kiss for the use o' them, blessing on his bonnyface--though it's been a dear ane to me."
"And where did he change his clothes again, hinnie?" said Sharpitlaw, inhis most conciliatory manner.
"The procurator's spoiled a'," observed Ratcliffe, drily. And it was evenso; for the question, put in so direct a shape, immediately awakenedMadge to the propriety of being reserved upon those very topics on whichRatcliffe had indirectly seduced her to become communicative.
"What was't ye were speering at us, sir?" she resumed, with an appearanceof stolidity so speedily assumed, as showed there was a good deal ofknavery mixed with her folly.
"I asked you," said the procurator, "at what hour, and to what place,Robertson brought back your clothes."
"Robertson?--Lord hand a care o' us! what Robertson?"
"Why, the fellow we were speaking of, Gentle Geordie, as you call him."
"Geordie Gentle!" answered Madge, with well-feigned amazement--"I dinnaken naebody they ca' Geordie Gentle."
"Come, my jo," said Sharpitlaw, "this will not do; you must tell us whatyou did with these clothes of yours."
Madge Wildfire made no answer, unless the question may seem connectedwith the snatch of a song with which she indulged the embarrassedinvestigator:--
"What did ye wi' the bridal ring--bridal ring--bridal ring? What did ye wi' your wedding ring, ye little cutty quean, O? I gied it till a sodger, a sodger, a sodger, I gied it till a sodger, an auld true love o' mine, O."
Of all the madwomen who have sung and said, since the days of Hamlet theDane, if Ophelia be the most affecting, Madge Wildfire was the mostprovoking.
The procurator-fiscal was in despair. "I'll take some measures with thisd--d Bess of Bedlam," said he, "that shall make her find her tongue."
"Wi' your favour, sir," said Ratcliffe, "better let her mind settle alittle--Ye have aye made out something."
"True," said the official person; "a brown short-gown, mutch, redrokelay--that agrees with your Madge Wildfire, Mr. Butler?" Butler agreedthat it did so. "Yes, there was a sufficient motive for taking this crazycreature's dress and name, while he was about such a job."
"And I am free to say _now,_" said Ratcliffe
"When you see it has come out without you," interrupted Sharpitlaw.
"Just sae, sir," reiterated Ratcliffe. "I am free to say now, since it'scome out otherwise, that these were the clothes I saw Robertson wearinglast night in the jail, when he was at the head of the rioters."
"That's direct evidence," said Sharpitlaw; "stick to that, Rat--I willreport favourably of you to the provost, for I have business for youto-night. It wears late; I must home and get a snack, and I'll be back inthe evening. Keep Madge with you, Ratcliffe, and try to get her into agood tune again." So saying he left the prison.