by Walter Scott
Maxwell at length let out the words, 'A good fright; and so send him home with his tail scalded, like a dog that has come a-privateering on strange premises.'
The provost's negative was strongly interposed—'Not to be thought of'—'making bad worse'—'my situation'—'my utility'—'you cannot conceive how obstinate—just like his father'.
They then whispered more closely, and at length the provost raised his drooping crest, and spoke in a cheerful tone. 'Come, sit down to your glass, Mr. Fairford; we have laid our heads thegither, and you shall see it will not be our fault if you are not quite pleased, and Mr. Darsie Latimer let loose to take his fiddle under his neck again. But Summertrees thinks it will require you to put yourself into some bodily risk, which maybe you may not be so keen of.'
'Gentlemen,' said Fairford, 'I will not certainly shun any risk by which my object may be accomplished; but I bind it on your consciences—on yours, Mr. Maxwell, as a man of honour and a gentleman; and on yours, provost, as a magistrate and a loyal subject, that you do not mislead me in this matter.'
'Nay, as for me,' said Summertrees, 'I will tell you the truth at once, and fairly own that I can certainly find you the means of seeing Redgauntlet, poor man; and that I will do, if you require it, and conjure him also to treat you as your errand requires; but poor Redgauntlet is much changed—indeed, to say truth, his temper never was the best in the world; however, I will warrant you from any very great danger.'
'I will warrant myself from such,' said Fairford, 'by carrying a proper force with me.'
'Indeed,' said Summertrees, 'you will, do no such thing; for, in the first place, do you think that we will deliver up the poor fellow into the hands of the Philistines, when, on the contrary, my only reason for furnishing you with the clue I am to put into your hands, is to settle the matter amicably on all sides? And secondly, his intelligence is so good, that were you coming near him with soldiers, or constables, or the like, I shall answer for it, you will never lay salt on his tail.'
Fairford mused for a moment. He considered that to gain sight of this man, and knowledge of his friend's condition, were advantages to be purchased at every personal risk; and he saw plainly, that were he to take the course most safe for himself, and call in the assistance of the law, it was clear he would either be deprived of the intelligence necessary to guide him, or that Redgauntlet would be apprised of his danger, and might probably leave the country, carrying his captive along with him. He therefore repeated, 'I put myself on your honour, Mr. Maxwell; and I will go alone to visit your friend. I have little; doubt I shall find him amenable to reason; and that I shall receive from him a satisfactory account of Mr. Latimer.'
'I have little doubt that you will,' said Mr. Maxwell of Summertrees; 'but still I think it will be only in the long run, and after having sustained some delay and inconvenience. My warrandice goes no further.'
'I will take it as it is given,' said Alan Fairford. 'But let me ask, would it not be better, since you value your friend's safety so highly and surely would not willingly compromise mine, that the provost or you should go with me to this man, if he is within any reasonable distance, and try to make him hear reason?'
'Me!—I will not go my foot's length,' said the provost; and that, Mr. Alan, you may be well assured of. Mr. Redgauntlet is my wife's fourth cousin, that is undeniable; but were he the last of her kin and mine both, it would ill befit my office to be communing with rebels.'
'Aye, or drinking with nonjurors,' said Maxwell, filling his glass. 'I would as soon expect; to have met Claverhouse at a field-preaching. And as for myself, Mr. Fairford, I cannot go, for just the opposite reason. It would be INFRA DIG. in the provost of this most flourishing and loyal town to associate with Redgauntlet; and for me it would be NOSCITUR A SOCIO. There would be post to London, with the tidings that two such Jacobites as Redgauntlet and I had met on a braeside—the Habeas Corpus would be suspended—Fame would sound a charge from Carlisle to the Land's End—and who knows but the very wind of the rumour might blow my estate from between my fingers, and my body over Errickstane-brae again? No, no; bide a gliff—I will go into the provost's closet, and write a letter to Redgauntlet, and direct you how to deliver it.'
'There is pen and ink in the office,' said the provost, pointing to the door of an inner apartment, in which he had his walnut-tree desk and east-country cabinet.
'A pen that can write, I hope?' said the old laird.
'It can write and spell baith in right hands,' answered the provost, as the laird retired and shut the door behind him.
CHAPTER XII
NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD, CONTINUED
The room was no sooner deprived of Mr. Maxwell of Summertrees's presence, than the provost looked very warily above, beneath, and around the apartment, hitched his chair towards that of his remaining guest, and began to speak In a whisper which could not have startled 'the smallest mouse that creeps on floor.'
'Mr. Fairford,' said he, 'you are a good lad; and, what is more, you are my auld friend your father's son. Your father has been agent for this burgh for years, and has a good deal to say with the council; so there have been a sort of obligations between him and me; it may have been now on this side and now on that; but obligations there have been. I am but a plain man, Mr. Fairford; but I hope you understand me?'
'I believe you mean me well, provost; and I am sure,' replied Fairford, 'you can never better show your kindness than on this occasion.'
'That's it—that's the very point I would be at, Mr. Alan,' replied the provost; 'besides, I am, as becomes well my situation, a stanch friend to kirk and king, meaning this present establishment in church and state; and so, as I was saying, you may command my best—advice.'
'I hope for your assistance and co-operation also,' said the youth.
'Certainly, certainly,' said the wary magistrate. 'Well, now, you see one may love the kirk, and yet not ride on the rigging of it; and one may love the king, and yet not be cramming him eternally down the throat of the unhappy folk that may chance to like another king better. I have friends and connexions among them, Mr. Fairford, as your father may have clients—they are flesh and blood like ourselves, these poor Jacobite bodies—sons of Adam and Eve, after all; and therefore—I hope you understand me?—I am a plain-spoken man.'
'I am afraid I do not quite understand you,' said Fairford; 'and if you have anything to say to me in private, my dear provost, you had better come quickly out with it, for the Laird of Summertrees must finish his letter in a minute or two.'
'Not a bit, man—Pate is a lang-headed fellow, but his pen does not clear the paper as his greyhound does the Tinwald-furs. I gave him a wipe about that, if you noticed; I can say anything to Pate-in-Peril—Indeed, he is my wife's near kinsman.'
'But your advice, provost,' said Alan, who perceived that, like a shy horse, the worthy magistrate always started off from his own purpose just when he seemed approaching to it.
'Weel, you shall have it in plain terms, for I am a plain man. Ye see, we will suppose that any friend like yourself were in the deepest hole of the Nith, sand making a sprattle for your life. Now, you see, such being the case, I have little chance of helping you, being a fat, short-armed man, and no swimmer, and what would be the use of my jumping in after you?'
'I understand you, I think,' said Alan Fairford. 'You think that Darsie Latimer is in danger of his life?'
'Me!—I think nothing about it, Mr. Alan; but if he were, as I trust he is not, he is nae drap's blood akin to you, Mr. Alan.'
'But here your friend, Summertrees,' said the young lawyer, 'offers me a letter to this Redgauntlet of yours—What say you to that?'
'Me!' ejaculated the provost, 'me, Mr. Alan? I say neither buff nor stye to it—But ye dinna ken what it is to look a Redgauntlet in the face;—better try my wife, who is but a fourth cousin, before ye venture on the laird himself—just say something about the Revolution, and see what a look she can gie you.'
I shall leave you to stand all
the shots from that battery, provost.' replied Fairford. 'But speak out like a man—Do you think Summertrees means fairly by me?'
'Fairly—he is just coming—fairly? I am a plain man, Mr. Fairford—but ye said FAIRLY?'
'I do so,' replied Alan, 'and it is of importance to me to know, and to you to tell me if such is the case; for if you do not, you may be an accomplice to murder before the fact, and that under circumstances which may bring it near to murder under trust.'
'Murder!—who spoke of murder?' said the provost; no danger of that, Mr. Alan—only, if I were you—to speak my plain mind'—Here he approached his mouth to the ear of the young lawyer, and, after another acute pang of travail, was safely delivered of his advice in the following abrupt words:—'Take a keek into Pate's letter before ye deliver it.'
Fairford started, looked the provost hard in the face, and was silent; while Mr. Crosbie, with the self-approbation of one who has at length brought himself to the discharge of a great duty, at the expense of a considerable sacrifice, nodded and winked to Alan, as if enforcing his advice; and then swallowing a large glass of punch, concluded, with the sigh of a man released from a heavy burden, 'I am a plain man, Mr. Fairford.'
'A plain man?' said Maxwell, who entered the room at that moment, with the letter in his hand,—'Provost, I never heard you make use of the word but when you had some sly turn of your own to work out.'
The provost looked silly enough, and the Laird of Summertrees directed a keen and suspicious glance upon Alan Fairford, who sustained it with professional intrepidity.—There was a moment's pause.
'I was trying,' said the provost, 'to dissuade our young friend from his wildgoose expedition.'
'And I,' said Fairford, 'am determined to go through with it. Trusting myself to you, Mr. Maxwell, I conceive that I rely, as I before said, on the word of a gentleman.'
'I will warrant you,' said Maxwell, 'from all serious consequences—some inconveniences you must look to suffer.'
'To these I shall be resigned,' said Fairford, 'and stand prepared to run my risk.'
'Well then,' said Summertrees, 'you must go'—
'I will leave you to yourselves, gentlemen,' said the provost, rising; 'when you have done with your crack, you will find me at my wife's tea-table.'
'And a more accomplished old woman never drank catlap,' said Maxwell, as he shut the door; 'the last word has him, speak it who will—and yet because he is a whillywhaw body, and has a plausible tongue of his own, and is well enough connected, and especially because nobody could ever find out whether he is Whig or Tory, this is the third time they have made him provost!—But to the matter in hand. This letter, Mr. Fairford,' putting a sealed one into his hand, 'is addressed, you observe, to Mr. H—of B—, and contains your credentials for that gentlemen, who is also known by his family name of Redgauntlet, but less frequently addressed by it, because it is mentioned something invidiously in a certain Act of Parliament. I have little doubt he will assure you of your friend's safety, and in a short time place him at freedom—that is, supposing him under present restraint. But the point is, to discover where he is—and, before you are made acquainted with this necessary part of the business, you must give me your assurance of honour that you will acquaint no one, either by word or letter, with the expedition which you now propose to yourself.'
'How, sir?' answered Alan; 'can you expect that I will not take the precaution of informing some person of the route I am about to take, that in case of accident it may be known where I am, and with what purpose I have gone thither?'
'And can you expect,' answered Maxwell, in the same tone, 'that I am to place my friend's safety, not merely in your hands, but in those of any person you may choose to confide in, and who may use the knowledge to his destruction? Na—na—I have pledged my word for your safety, and you must give me yours to be private in the matter—giff-gaff, you know.'
Alan Fairford could not help thinking that this obligation to secrecy gave a new and suspicious colouring to the whole transaction; but, considering that his friend's release might depend upon his accepting the condition, he gave it in the terms proposed, and with the purpose of abiding by it.
'And now, sir,' he said, 'whither am I to proceed with this letter? Is Mr. Herries at Brokenburn?'
'He is not; I do not think he will come thither again until the business of the stake-nets be hushed up, nor would I advise him to do so—the Quakers, with all their demureness, can bear malice as long as other folk; and though I have not the prudence of Mr. Provost, who refuses to ken where his friends are concealed during adversity, lest, perchance, he should be asked to contribute to their relief, yet I do not think it necessary or prudent to inquire into Redgauntlet's wanderings, poor man, but wish to remain at perfect freedom to answer, if asked at, that I ken nothing of the matter. You must, then, go to old Tom Trumbull's at Annan,—Tam Turnpenny, as they call him,—and he is sure either to know where Redgauntlet is himself, or to find some one who can give a shrewd guess. But you must attend that old Turnpenny will answer no question on such a subject without you give him the passport, which at present you must do, by asking him the age of the moon; if he answers, "Not light enough to land a cargo," you are to answer, "Then plague on Aberdeen Almanacks," and upon that he will hold free intercourse with you. And now, I would advise you to lose no time, for the parole is often changed—and take care of yourself among these moonlight lads, for laws and lawyers do not stand very high in their favour.'
'I will set out this instant,' said the young barrister; 'I will but bid the provost and Mrs. Crosbie farewell, and then get on horseback so soon as the ostler of the George Inn can saddle him;—as for the smugglers, I am neither gauger nor supervisor, and, like the man who met the devil, if they have nothing to say to me, I have nothing to say to them.'
'You are a mettled young man,' said Summertrees, evidently with increasing goodwill, on observing an alertness and contempt of danger, which perhaps he did not expect from Alan's appearance and profession,—'a very mettled young fellow indeed! and it is almost a pity'—Here he stopped abort.
'What is a pity?' said Fairford.
'It is almost a pity that I cannot go with you myself, or at least send a trusty guide.'
They walked together to the bedchamber of Mrs. Crosbie, for it was in that asylum that the ladies of the period dispensed their tea, when the parlour was occupied by the punch-bowl.
'You have been good bairns to-night, gentlemen,' said Mrs. Crosbie; 'I am afraid, Summertrees, that the provost has given you a bad browst; you are not used to quit the lee-side of the punch-bowl in such a hurry. I say nothing to you, Mr. Fairford, for you are too young a man yet for stoup and bicker; but I hope you will not tell the Edinburgh fine folk that the provost has scrimped you of your cogie, as the sang says?'
'I am much obliged for the provost's kindness, and yours, madam,' replied Alan; 'but the truth is, I have still a long ride before me this evening and the sooner I am on horse-back the better.'
'This evening?' said the provost, anxiously; 'had you not better take daylight with you to-morrow morning?'
'Mr. Fairford will ride as well in the cool of the evening,' said Summertrees, taking the word out of Alan's mouth.
The provost said no more, nor did his wife ask any questions, nor testify any surprise at the suddenness of their guest's departure.
Having drunk tea, Alan Fairford took leave with the usual ceremony. The Laird of Summertrees seemed studious to prevent any further communication between him and the provost, and remained lounging on the landing-place of the stair while they made their adieus—heard the provost ask if Alan proposed a speedy return, and the latter reply that his stay was uncertain, and witnessed the parting shake of the hand, which, with a pressure more warm than usual, and a tremulous, 'God bless and prosper you!' Mr. Crosbie bestowed on his young friend. Maxwell even strolled with Fairford as far as the George, although resisting all his attempts at further inquiry into the affairs of Redgauntlet, and referrin
g him to Tom Trumbull, alias Turnpenny, for the particulars which he might find it necessary to inquire into.
At length Alan's hack was produced—an animal long in neck, and high in bone, accoutred with a pair of saddle-bags containing the rider's travelling wardrobe. Proudly surmounting his small stock of necessaries, and no way ashamed of a mode of travelling which a modern Mr. Silvertongue would consider as the last of degradations, Alan Fairford took leave of the old Jacobite, Pate-in-Peril, and set forward on the road to the loyal burgh of Annan. His reflections during his ride were none of the most pleasant. He could not disguise from himself that he was venturing rather too rashly into the power of outlawed and desperate persons; for with such only, a man in the situation of Redgauntlet could be supposed to associate. There were other grounds for apprehension, Several marks of intelligence betwixt Mrs. Crosbie and the Laird of Summertrees had not escaped Alan's acute observation; and it was plain that the provost's inclinations towards him, which he believed to be sincere and good, were not firm enough to withstand the influence of this league between his wife and friend. The provost's adieus, like Macbeth's amen, had stuck in his throat, and seemed to intimate that he apprehended more than he dared give utterance to.
Laying all these matters together, Alan thought, with no little anxiety on the celebrated lines of Shakespeare,
— A drop,
That in the ocean seeks another drop, &c.