by John Buchan
CHAPTER IV.
OF A STAIRHEAD AND A SEA-CAPTAIN.
With the escapade that landed me in the Tolbooth there came an end tothe nightmare years of my first youth. A week later I got word that myfather was dead of an ague in the Low Countries, and I had to be offpost-haste to Auchencairn to see to the ordering of our little estate.We were destined to be bitter poor, what with dues and regalitiesincident on the passing of the ownership, and I thought it best toleave my mother to farm it, with the help of Robin Gilfillan thegrieve, and seek employment which would bring me an honest penny. Herone brother, Andrew Sempill, from whom I was named, was a merchant inGlasgow, the owner of three ships that traded to the Western Seas, andby repute a man of a shrewd and venturesome temper. He was single, too,and I might reasonably look to be his heir; so when a letter came fromhim offering me a hand in his business, my mother was instant for mygoing. I was little loath myself, for I saw nothing now to draw me tothe profession of the law, which had been my first notion. "Hame'shame," runs the proverb, "as the devil said when he found himself inthe Court of Session," and I had lost any desire for that sinistercompany. Besides, I liked the notion of having to do with ships and farlands; for I was at the age when youth burns fiercely in a lad, and hisfancy is as riotous as a poet's.
Yet the events I have just related had worked a change in my life. Theyhad driven the unthinking child out of me and forced me to reflect onmy future. Two things rankled in my soul--a wench's mocking laughterand the treatment I had got from the dragoon. It was not that I was inlove with the black-haired girl; indeed, I think I hated her; but Icould not get her face out of my head or her voice out of my ears. Shehad mocked me, treated me as if I was no more than a foolish servant,and my vanity was raw. I longed to beat down her pride, to make hercreep humbly to me, Andrew Garvald, as her only deliverer; and how thatshould be compassed was the subject of many hot fantasies in my brain.The dragoon, too, had tossed me about like a silly sheep, and mymanhood cried out at the recollection. What sort of man was I if anylubberly soldier could venture on such liberties?
I went into the business with the monstrous solemnity of youth, andtook stock of my equipment as if I were casting up an account. Many atime in those days I studied my appearance in the glass like a foolishmaid. I was not well featured, having a freckled, square face, abiggish head, a blunt nose, grey, colourless eyes, and a sandy thatchof hair, I had great square shoulders, but my arms were too short formy stature, and--from an accident in my nursing days--of indifferentstrength. All this stood on the debit side of my account. On the creditside I set down that I had unshaken good health and an uncommon powerof endurance, especially in the legs. There was no runner in the UpperWard of Lanark who was my match, and I had travelled the hills soconstantly in all weathers that I had acquired a gipsy lore in thematter of beasts and birds and wild things, I had long, clear, unerringeyesight, which had often stood me in good stead in the time of myfather's troubles. Of moral qualities, Heaven forgive me, I fear Ithought less; but I believed, though I had been little proved, that Iwas as courageous as the common run of men.
All this looks babyish in the writing, but there was a method in thisself-examination. I believed that I was fated to engage in strangeventures, and I wanted to equip myself for the future. The pressingbusiness was that of self-defence, and I turned first to a gentleman'sproper weapon, the sword. Here, alas! I was doomed to a bitterdisappointment. My father had given me a lesson now and then, but neverenough to test me, and when I came into the hands of a Glasgow mastermy unfitness was soon manifest. Neither with broadsword nor small swordcould I acquire any skill. My short arm lacked reach and vigour, andthere seemed to be some stiffness in wrist and elbow and shoulder whichcompelled me to yield to smaller men. Here was a pretty business, forthough gentleman born I was as loutish with a gentleman's weapon as anycountry hind.
This discovery gave me some melancholy weeks, but I plucked up heartand set to reasoning. If my hand were to guard my head it must findsome other way of it. My thoughts turned to powder and shot, to themusket and the pistol. Here was a weapon which needed only a stoutnerve, a good eye, and a steady hand; one of these I possessed to thefull, and the others were not beyond my attainment. There lived anarmourer in the Gallowgate, one Weir, with whom I began to spend myleisure. There was an alley by the Molendinar Burn, close to thearchery butts, where he would let me practise at a mark with guns fromhis store. Soon to my delight I found that here was a weapon with whichI need fear few rivals. I had a natural genius for the thing, as somemen have for sword-play, and Weir was a zealous teacher, for he lovedhis flint-locks.
"See, Andrew," he would cry, "this is the true leveller of mankind. Itwill make the man his master's equal, for though your gentleman maycock on a horse and wave his Andrew Ferrara, this will bring him offit. Brains, my lad, will tell in coming days, for it takes a head toshoot well, though any flesher may swing a sword."
The better marksman I grew the less I liked the common make of guns,and I cast about to work an improvement. I was especially fond of theshort gun or pistol, not the bell-mouthed thing which shot a handfulof slugs, and was as little precise in its aim as a hailstorm, but thelight foreign pistol which, shot as true as a musket. Weir had learnedhis trade in Italy, and was a neat craftsman, so I employed him to makeme a pistol after my own pattern. The butt was of light, tough wood,and brass-bound, for I did not care to waste money on ornament. Thebarrel was shorter than the usual, and of the best Spanish metal, andthe pan and the lock were set after my own device. Nor was that all,for I became an epicure in the matter of bullets, and made my own withthe care of a goldsmith. I would weigh out the powder charges as nicelyas an apothecary weighs his drugs, for I had discovered that with thepistol the weight of bullet and charge meant much for goodmarksmanship. From Weir I got the notion of putting up ball and powderin cartouches, and I devised a method of priming much quicker and surerthan the ordinary. In one way and another I believe I acquired moreskill in the business than anybody then living in Scotland. I cherishedmy toy like a lover; I christened it "Elspeth "; it lay by my bed atnight, and lived by day in a box of sweet-scented foreign wood given meby one of my uncle's skippers. I doubt I thought more of it than of myduty to my Maker.
All the time I was very busy at Uncle Andrew's counting-house in theCandleriggs, and down by the river-side among the sailors. It was theday when Glasgow was rising from a cluster of streets round the HighKirk and College to be the chief merchants' resort in Scotland.Standing near the Western Seas, she turned her eyes naturally to theAmericas, and a great trade was beginning in tobacco and raw silk fromVirginia, rich woods and dye stuffs from the Main, and rice and fruitsfrom the Summer Islands. The river was too shallow for ships of heavyburthen, so it was the custom to unload in the neighbourhood ofGreenock and bring the goods upstream in barges to the quay at theBroomielaw. There my uncle, in company with other merchants, had hiswarehouse, but his counting-house was up in the town, near by theCollege, and I spent my time equally between the two places. I becamefuriously interested in the work, for it has ever been my happy fortuneto be intent on whatever I might be doing at the moment. I think Iserved my uncle well, for I had much of the merchant's aptitude, andthe eye to discern far-away profits. He liked my boldness, for I wasimpatient of the rule-of-thumb ways of some of our fellow-traders. "Weare dealing with new lands," I would say, "and there is need of newplans. It pays to think in trading as much as in statecraft," Therewere plenty that looked askance at us, and cursed us as troublers ofthe peace, and there were some who prophesied speedy ruin. But wediscomforted our neighbours by prospering mightily, so that there wastalk of Uncle Andrew for the Provost's chair at the next vacancy.
They were happy years, the four I spent in Glasgow, for I was young andardent, and had not yet suffered the grave miscarriage of hope which isour human lot. My uncle was a busy merchant, but he was also somethingof a scholar, and was never happier than when disputing some learnedpoint with a college professor over a bowl of pun
ch. He was a greatfisherman, too, and many a salmon I have seen him kill between the townand Rutherglen in the autumn afternoons. He treated me like a son, andby his aid I completed my education by much reading of books and afrequent attendance at college lectures. Such leisure as I had I spentby the river-side talking with the ship captains and getting news offar lands. In this way I learned something of the handling of a ship,and especially how to sail a sloop alone in rough weather, I haveventured, myself the only crew, far down the river to the beginning ofthe sealocks, and more than once escaped drowning by a miracle. Of aSaturday I would sometimes ride out to Auchencairn to see my mother andassist with my advice the work of Robin Gilfillan. Once I remember Irode to Carnwath, and looked again on the bleak house where the girlElspeth had sung to me in the rain. I found it locked and deserted, andheard from a countrywoman that the folk had gone. "And a guidriddance," said the woman. "The Blairs was aye a cauld and oppressiverace, and they were black Prelatists forbye. But I whiles miss yonhellicat lassie. She had a cheery word for a'body, and she keepit theplace frae languor."
But I cannot linger over the tale of those peaceful years when I haveso much that is strange and stirring to set down. Presently came theRevolution, when King James fled overseas, and the Dutch King Williamreigned in his stead. The event was a godsend to our trade, for withScotland in a bicker with Covenants and dragoonings, and new taxesthreatened with each new Parliament, a merchant's credit was apt to bea brittle thing. The change brought a measure of security, and as weprospered I soon began to see that something must be done in ourVirginian trade. Years before, my uncle had sent out a man, Lambie byname, who watched his interests in that country. But we had to facesuch fierce rivalry from the Bristol merchants that I had smallconfidence in Mr. Lambie, who from his letters was a sleepy soul. Ibroached the matter to my uncle, and offered to go myself and putthings in order. At first he was unwilling to listen. I think he wassorry to part with me, for we had become close friends, and there wasalso the difficulty of my mother, to whom I was the natural protector.But his opposition died down when I won my mother to my side, and whenI promised that I would duly return. I pointed out that Glasgow andVirginia were not so far apart. Planters from the colony would dwellwith us for a season, and their sons often come to Glasgow for theirschooling. You could see the proud fellows walking the streets in braveclothes, and marching into the kirk on Sabbath with a couple ofservants carrying cushions and Bibles. In the better class of tavernone could always meet with a Virginian or two compounding their curiousdrinks, and swearing their outlandish oaths. Most of them had goneafield from Scotland, and it was a fine incentive to us young men tosee how mightily they had prospered. My uncle yielded, and it wasarranged that I should sail with the first convoy of the New Year. Fromthe moment of the decision I walked the earth in a delirium ofexpectation. That February, I remember, was blue and mild, with softairs blowing up the river. Down by the Broomielaw I found a new rapturein the smell of tar and cordage, and the queer foreign scents in myuncle's warehouse. Every skipper and greasy sailor became for me afigure of romance. I scanned every outland face, wondering if I shouldmeet it again in the New World. A negro in cotton drawers, shivering inour northern dune, had more attraction for me than the fairest maid,and I was eager to speak with all and every one who had crossed theocean. One bronzed mariner with silver earrings I entertained to threestoups of usquebaugh, hoping for strange tales, but the little I hadfrom him before he grew drunk was that he had once voyaged to theCanaries. You may imagine that I kept my fancies to myself, and wasoutwardly only the sober merchant with a mind set on freights andhogsheads. But whoever remembers his youth will know that such terms tome were not the common parlance of trade. The very names of thetobaccos Negro's Head, Sweet-scented, Oronoke, Carolina Red, GloucesterGlory, Golden Rod sang in my head like a tune, that told of greenforests and magic islands.
But an incident befell ere I left which was to have unforeseen effectson my future. One afternoon I was in the shooting alley I have spokenof, making trial of a new size of bullet I had moulded. The place wasjust behind Parlane's tavern, and some gentlemen, who had been drinkingthere, came out to cool their heads and see the sport. Most of themwere cock-lairds from the Lennox, and, after the Highland fashion, hadin their belts heavy pistols of the old kind which folk called "dags."They were cumbrous, ill-made things, gaudily ornamented with silver andDamascus work, fit ornaments for a savage Highland chief, but littlegood for serious business, unless a man were only a pace or two fromhis opponent. One of them, who had drunk less than the others, came upto me and very civilly proposed a match. I was nothing loath, so acourse was fixed, and a mutchkin of French _eau de vie_ named as theprize. I borrowed an old hat from the landlord which had stuck in itsside a small red cockade. The thing was hung as a target in a leaflesscherry tree at twenty paces, and the cockade was to be the centre mark.Each man was to fire three shots apiece.
Barshalloch--for so his companions called my opponent after hislairdship--made a great to-do about the loading, and would not becontent till he had drawn the charge two--three times. The spin of acoin gave him first shot, and he missed the mark and cut the bole ofthe tree.
"See," I said, "I will put my ball within a finger's-breadth of his."Sure enough, when they looked, the two bullets were all but in the samehole.
His second shot took the hat low down on its right side, and clippedaway a bit of the brim. I saw by this time that the man could shoot,though he had a poor weapon and understood little about it. So I toldthe company that I would trim the hat by slicing a bit from the otherside. This I achieved, though by little, for my shot removed only halfas much cloth as its predecessor. But the performance amazed theonlookers. "Ye've found a fair provost at the job, Barshalloch," one ofthem hiccupped. "Better quit and pay for the mutchkin."
My antagonist took every care with his last shot, and, just missing thecockade, hit the hat about the middle, cut the branch on which itrested, and brought it fluttering to the ground a pace or two fartheron. It lay there, dimly seen through a low branch of the cherry tree,with the cockade on the side nearest me. It was a difficult mark, butthe light was good and my hand steady. I walked forward and broughtback the hat with a hole drilled clean through the cockade.
At that there was a great laughter, and much jocosity from thecock-lairds at their friend's expense. Barshalloch very handsomelycomplimented me, and sent for the mutchkin. His words made me warmtowards him, and I told him that half the business was not my skill ofshooting but the weapon I carried.
He begged for a look at it, and examined it long and carefully.
"Will ye sell, friend?" he asked. "I'll give ye ten golden guineas andthe best filly that ever came out o' Strathendrick for that pistol."
But I told him that the offer of Strathendrick itself would not buy it.
"No?" said he. "Well, I won't say ye're wrong. A man should cherish hisweapon like his wife, for it carries his honour."
Presently, having drunk the wager, they went indoors again, all but atall fellow who had been a looker-on, but had not been of the Lennoxcompany. I had remarked him during the contest, a long, lean man with abright, humorous blue eye and a fiery red head. He was maybe ten yearsolder than me, and though he was finely dressed in town clothes, therewas about his whole appearance a smack of the sea. He came forward,and, in a very Highland voice, asked my name.
"Why should I tell you?" I said, a little nettled.
"Just that I might carry it in my head. I have seen some prettyshooting in my day, but none like yours, young one. What's your tradethat ye've learned the pistol game so cleverly?"
Now I was flushed with pride, and in no mood for a stranger'spatronage. So I told him roundly that it was none of his business, andpushed by him to Parlane's back-door. But my brusqueness gave nooffence to this odd being. He only laughed and cried after me that, ifmy manners were the equal of my marksmanship, I would be the best ladhe had seen since his home-coming.
I had dinner with my uncle in
the Candleriggs, and sat with him lateafterwards casting up accounts, so it was not till nine o'clock that Iset out on my way to my lodgings. These were in the Saltmarket, closeon the river front, and to reach them I went by the short road throughthe Friar's Vennel. It was an ill-reputed quarter of the town, and notlong before had been noted as a haunt of coiners; but I had gonethrough it often, and met with no hindrance.
In the vennel stood a tall dark bit of masonry called Gilmour'sLordship, which was pierced by long closes from which twistingstairways led to the upper landings. I was noting its gloomy aspectunder the dim February moon, when a man came towards me and turned intoone of the closes. He swung along with a free, careless gait thatmarked him as no townsman, and ere he plunged into the darkness I had aglimpse of fiery hair. It was the stranger who had accosted me inParlane's alley, and he was either drunk or in wild spirits, for he wassinging:--
"We're a' dry wi' the drinkin' o't, We're a' dry wi' the drinkin' o't. The minister kissed the fiddler's wife, And he couldna preach for thinkin' o't."
The ribald chorus echoed from the close mouth.
Then I saw that he was followed by three others, bent, slinkingfellows, who slipped across the patches of moonlight, and eagerlyscanned the empty vennel. They could not see me, for I was in shadow,and presently they too entered the close.
The thing looked ugly, and, while I had no love for the red-haired man,I did not wish to see murder or robbery committed and stand idly by.The match of the afternoon had given me a fine notion of my prowess,though. Had I reflected, my pistol was in its case at home, and I hadno weapon but a hazel staff. Happily in youth the blood is quicker thanthe brain, and without a thought I ran into the close and up the longstairway.
The chorus was still being sung ahead of me, and then it suddenlyceased. In dead silence and in pitchy darkness I struggled up the stonesteps, wondering what I should find at the next turning. The place wasblack as night, the steps were uneven, and the stairs corkscrewed mostwonderfully. I wished with all my heart that I had not come, as Igroped upwards hugging the wall.
Then a cry came and a noise of hard breathing. At the same moment adoor opened somewhere above my head, and a faint glow came down thestairs. Presently with a great rumble a heavy man came rolling past me,butting with his head at the stair-side. He came to anchor on a landingbelow me, and finding his feet plunged downwards as if the devil wereat his heels. He left behind him a short Highland knife, which I pickedup and put in my pocket.
On his heels came another with his hand clapped to his side, and hemoaned as he slithered past me. Something dripped from him on the stonesteps.
The light grew stronger, and as I rounded the last turning a third camebounding down, stumbling from wall to wall like a drunk man. I saw hisface clearly, and if ever mortal eyes held baffled murder it was thatfellow's. There was a dark mark on his shoulder.
Above me as I blinked stood my red-haired friend on the top landing. Hehad his sword drawn, and was whistling softly through his teeth, whileon the right hand was an open door and an old man holding a lamp.
"Ho!" he cried. "Here comes a fourth. God's help, it's my friend themarksman!"
I did not like that naked bit of steel, but there was nothing for itbut to see the thing through. When he saw that I was unarmed hereturned his weapon to its sheath, and smiled broadly down on me.
"What brings my proud gentleman up these long stairs?" he asked.
"I saw you entering the close and three men following you. It lookedbad, so I came up to see fair play."
"Did ye so? And a very pretty intention, Mr. What's-your-name. But yeneedna have fashed yourself. Did ye see any of our friends on thestairs?"
"I met a big man rolling down like a football," I said.
"Ay, that would be Angus. He's a clumsy stot, and never had muchsense."
"And I met another with his hand on his side," I said.
"That would be little James. He's a fine lad with a skean-dhu on a darknight, but there was maybe too much light here for his trade."
"And I met a third who reeled like a drunk man," I said.
"Ay," said he meditatively, "that was Long Colin. He's the flower o'the flock, and I had to pink him. At another time and in a better placeI would have liked a bout with him, for he has some notion ofsword-play."
"Who were the men?" I asked, in much confusion, for this laughingwarrior perplexed me.
"Who but just my cousins from Glengyle. There has long been a sort ofbicker between us, and they thought they had got a fine chance ofending it."
"And who, in Heaven's name, are you," I said, "that treats murder solightly?"
"Me?" he repeated. "Well, I might give ye the answer you gave me thisvery day when I speired the same question. But I am frank by nature,and I see you wish me well. Come in bye, and we'll discuss the matter."
He led me into a room where a cheerful fire crackled, and got out froma press a bottle and glasses. He produced tobacco from a brass box andfilled a long pipe.
"Now," said he, "we'll understand each other better. Ye see before youa poor gentleman of fortune, whom poverty and a roving spirit havedriven to outland bits o' the earth to ply his lawful trade ofsea-captain. They call me by different names. I have passed for a Dutchskipper, and a Maryland planter, and a French trader, and, in spite ofmy colour, I have been a Spanish don in the Main. At Tortuga you willhear one name, and another at Port o' Spain, and a third at Cartagena.But, seeing we are in the city o' Glasgow in the kindly kingdom o'Scotland, I'll be honest with you. My father called me Ninian Campbell,and there's no better blood in Breadalbane."
What could I do after that but make him a present of the trivial factsabout myself and my doings? There was a look of friendly humour aboutthis dare-devil which captured my fancy. I saw in him the stuff ofwhich adventurers are made, and though I was a sober merchant, I wasalso young. For days I had been dreaming of foreign parts and anOdyssey of strange fortunes, and here on a Glasgow stairhead I hadfound Ulysses himself.
"Is it not the pity," he cried, "that such talents as yours should rustin a dark room in the Candleriggs? Believe me, Mr. Garvald, I have seensome pretty shots, but I have never seen your better."
Then I told him that I was sailing within a month for Virginia, and hesuddenly grew solemn.
"It looks like Providence," he said, "that we two should come together.I, too, will soon be back in the Western Seas, and belike we'll meet.I'm something of a rover, and I never bide long in the same place, butI whiles pay a visit to James Town, and they ken me well on the EasternShore and the Accomac beaches."
He fell to giving me such advice as a traveller gives to a novice. Itwas strange hearing for an honest merchant, for much of it wasconcerned with divers ways of outwitting the law. By and by he wasdetermined to convoy me to my lodgings, for he pointed out that I wasunarmed; and I think, too, he had still hopes of another meeting withLong Colin, his cousin.
"I leave Glasgow the morrow's morn," he said, "and it's no likely we'llmeet again in Scotland. Out in Virginia, no doubt, you'll soon be agreat man, and sit in Council, and hob-nob with the Governor. But amidge can help an elephant, and I would gladly help you, for you hadthe goodwill to help me. If ye need aid you will go to Mercer's Tavernat James Town down on the water front, and you will ask news of NinianCampbell. The man will say that he never heard tell of the name, andthen you will speak these words to him. You will say 'The lymphads areon the loch, and the horn of Diarmaid has sounded.' Keep them well inmind, for some way or other they will bring you and me together."
Without another word he was off, and as I committed the gibberish tomemory I could hear his song going up the Saltmarket:--
"The minister kissed the fiddler's wife, And he couldna preach for thinkin' o't."