by John Buchan
CHAPTER XVI
HOW THREE MEN HELD A TOWN IN TERROR
It was towards evening, a dark November evening, that we came near thelittle town of Biggar. The place lies on a sandy bank raised from thewide moss which extends for miles by the edge of the sluggish stream.It is a black, desolate spot, where whaups and snipe whistle in the backstreets, and a lane, which begins from the causeway, may end in a poolof dark moss-water. But the street is marvellous broad, and there, atthe tail of the autumn, is held one of the greatest fairs in thelowlands of Scotland, whither hawkers and tinkers come in hordes, not tospeak of serving-men and serving-lasses who seek hire. For three daysthe thing goes on, and for racket and babble it is unmatched in thecountryside.
We halted before the entrance to the town on a square of dry in themidst of the water-way. The weather had begun to draw to storm, andfrom the east, great masses of rolling cloud came up, tinged red andyellow with the dying sun. I know not how many the gipsies were, but,with women and children, they were not less in number than ninety or ahundred. They had with them a great quantity of gear of all kinds, andtheir animals were infinite. Forbye their horses and asses, they haddogs and fowls, and many tamed birds which travelled in their company.One sight I yet remember as most curious. A great long man, who rode ona little donkey, had throughout the march kept an ugly raven before him,which he treated with much kindness; and on dismounting lifted off withassiduous care. And yet the bird had no beauty or accomplishment tomerit his good-will. It is a trait of these strange people that theymust ever have something on which to expend their affection; and whilethe women have their children, the men have their pets. The most grimand quarrelsome tinker will tend some beast or bird and share with ithis last meal.
When the camp was made, the fire lit, and the evening meal prepared, themen got out their violins and bagpipes, and set themselves to enliventhe night with music. There in the clear space in front of the firethey danced to the tunes with great glee and skill. I sat beside thecaptain and watched the picture, and in very truth it was a pleasingone. The men, as I have said, were for the most part lithe and tall,and they danced with grace. The gipsy women, after the age of twenty,grow too harsh-featured for beauty, and too manly in stature forelegance. But before that age they are uniformly pretty. The free,open-air life and the healthy fare make them strong in body andextraordinarily graceful in movement. Their well-formed features, theirkeen, laughing black eyes, their rich complexions, and, above all, theirmasses of coal-black hair become them choicely well. So there in theruddy firelight they danced to the quavering music, and peace for oncein a while lay among them.
Meanwhile I sat apart with William Baillie, and talked of many things.He filled for me a pipe of tobacco, and I essayed a practice which I hadoften heard of before but never made trial of. I found it verysoothing, and we sat there in the bield of the tent and discoursed ofour several wanderings. I heard from him wild tales of doings in thehills from the Pentlands to the Cumberland fells, for his habits tookhim far and wide in the country. He told all with the greatestindifference, affecting the air of an ancient Stoic, to whom all things,good and evil alike, were the same. Every now and then he would breakin with a piece of moralising, which he delivered with complete gravity,but which seemed to me matter for laughter, coming, as it did, aftersome racy narrative of how he vanquished Moss Marshall at the shielingof Kippertree, or cheated the ale-wife at Newbigging out of her score.
On the morrow all went off to the fair save myself, and I was left withthe children and the dogs. The captain had judged it better that Ishould stay, since there would be folk there from around Barns andDawyck, who might penetrate my disguise and spread the tidings.Besides, I knew naught of the tinker trade, and should have been sorelyout of place. So I stayed at home and pondered over many things,notably my present predicament. I thought of all my old hopes andplans--to be a scholar and a gentleman of spirit, to look well to mylands and have a great name in the countryside, to study and make books,maybe even to engage in Parliament and State business. And what did Inow? Travelling in disguise among tinkers, a branded man, with my loveand my lands in danger, nay all but lost. It was this accursed thoughtthat made the bitterest part of my wanderings.
I was in such a mood when a servant came from a farmhouse near to getone of the gipsies to come and mend the kitchen pot. As I was the onlyone left, there was nothing for it but to go. The adventure cheered me,for its whimsicality made me laugh, and laughter is the best antidote todespair. But I fared very badly, for, when I tried my 'prentice hand atthe pot, I was so manifestly incapable that the good-wife drove me fromthe place, calling me an idle sorner, and a lazy vagabond, and manyother well-deserved names. I returned to the camp with my ears stillringing from her cuff, but in a more wholesome temper of mind.
The greater part of the others returned at the darkening, most withwell-filled pockets, though I fear it was not all come by honestly; anda special feast was prepared. That gipsy meal was of the strangest yetmost excellent quality. There was a savoury soup made of all kinds ofstewed game and poultry, and after that the flesh of pigs and gameroasted and broiled. There was no seasoning to the food save a kind ofvery bitter vinegar; for these people care little for salt or anycondiment. Moreover, they had the strange practice of grating some hardsubstance into their wine, which gave it a flavour as if it had beenburned in the mulling.
The meal was over and I was thinking of lying down for the night, whenWilliam Baillie came back. I noted that in the firelight his face wasblack with anger. I heard him speak to several of his men, and his tonewas the tone of one who was mastering some passion. By and by he cameto where I sat and lay down beside me.
"Do you wish to pleasure me?" he said, shortly.
"Why, yes," I answered; "you have saved my life and I would do all in mypower to oblige you, though I fear that just now my power is little."
"It's a' I want," said he, leaving his more correct speech for the broadScots of the countryside. "Listen, and I'll tell ye what happened theday at the fair. We tinker-folk went aboot our business, daein' ill tonane, and behavin' like dacent, peaceable, quiet-mainnered men andwomen. The place was in a gey steer, for a heap o' Wast-country trashwas there frae the backs o' Straven and Douglasdale, and since a' thegodly and reputable folk thereaways hae ta'en to the hills, nane but therabble are left. So as we were gaun on canny, and sellin' our bits o'things and daein' our bits o' jobs, the drucken folk were dancin' andcairryin' on at the ither end. By and by doun the Fair come a druckengairdener, one John Cree. I ken him weel, a fosy, black-hertit scoondrelas ever I saw. My wife, whom ye know, for it was her that lookit afterye when ye were sick, was standin' at the side when the man sees her.He comes up to her wi' his leerin', blackgairdly face, and misca's herfor a tinkler and a' that was bad, as if the warst in our tribe wasnabetter than him.
"Mary, she stands back, and bids him get out or she wad learn himmainners.
"But he wadna take a tellin'. 'Oh, ho, my bawbee joe,' says he, 'ye'rebraw and high the day. Whae are you to despise an honest man? A wheentinkler doxies!' And he took up a stane and struck her on the face.
"At this a' our folk were for pittin' an end to him there and then. ButI keepit them back and bade them let the drucken ful be. Syne he gaedawa', but the folk o' the Fair took him up, and we've got nocht butill-words and ill-tongue a' day. But, by God! they'll pay for it themorn." And the captain looked long and fiercely into the embers.
"I hae a plan," said he, after a little, "and, Master Burnet, I want yeto help me. The folk of the fair are just a wheen scum and riddlings.There are three o' us here, proper men, you and myself and my sonMatthew. If ye will agree to it we three will mount horse the morn andclear oot that fair, and frichten the folk o' Biggar for the nexttwalmonth."
"What would you do?" said I.
"I hae three suits," he said, "o' guid crimson cloth, which I got fraemy grandfather and have nev
er worn. I have three braw horses, which camoot o' England three year syne. If the three o' us mount and ridethrough the fair there will be sic a scattering as was never heard tello' afore i' the auld toun. And, by God, if that gairdener-body doesnagang wud wi' fricht, my name's no William Baillie."
Now, I do not know what madness prompted me to join in this freak. Forcertain it was a most unbecoming thing for a man of birth to be perchedon horseback in the company of two reckless tinkers to break the king'speace and terrify His Majesty's lieges of Biggar. But a dare-devilspirit--the recoil from the morning's despondency--now held me.Besides, the romance of the thing took me captive; it was as well that aman should play all the parts he could in the world; and to my foolishmind it seemed a fine thing that one who was a man of birth and learningshould not scruple to cast in his lot with the rough gipsies.
So I agreed readily enough, and soon after went to sleep with weariness,and knew nothing till the stormy dawn woke the camp.
Then the three of us dressed in the crimson suits, and monstrously finewe looked. The day was dull, cloudy, and with a threat of snow; and themassing of clouds which we had marked on the day before was now athousandfold greater. We trotted out over the green borders of the bogto the town, where the riot and hilarity were audible. The sight of thethree to any chance spectator must have been fearsome beyond the common.William Baillie, not to speak of his great height and strange dress, hadlong black hair which hung far below his shoulders, and his scarlet hatand plume made him look like the devil in person. Matthew, his son, wassomething smaller, but broad and sinewy, and he sat his horse with anadmirable grace. As for myself, my face was tanned with sun and air andthe gipsy dye, my hair hung loosely on my shoulders in the fashion Ihave always worn it, and I could sit a horse with the best of them.
When we came near the head of the street we halted and consulted. Thecaptain bade us obey him in all and follow wherever he went, and aboveall let no word come from our mouth. Then we turned up our sleevesabove the elbows, drew our swords and rode into the town.
At the first sight of the three strange men who rode abreast a great cryof amazement arose, and the miscellaneous rabble was hushed. Then, in avoice of thunder, the captain cried out that they had despised thegipsies the day before, and that now was the time of revenge. Suitingthe action to the word he held his naked sword before him, and wefollowed at a canter.
I have never seen so complete a rout in my life. Stalls, booths, tableswere overturned, and the crowd flew wildly in all directions. Theothers of the tribe, who had come to see the show, looked on from theback, and to the terrified people seemed like fresh assailants. I havenever heard such a hubbub as rose from the fleeing men and screamingwomen. Farmers, country-folk, plowmen mingled with fat burgesses and thecraftsmen of the town in one wild rush for safety. And yet we touchedno one, but kept on our way to the foot of the street, with our drawnswords held stark upright in our hands. Then we turned and came back;and lo! the great fair was empty, and wild, fearful faces looked at usfrom window and lane.
Then, on our second ride, appeared at the church gate the minister ofthe parish, a valiant man, who bade us halt.
"Stop," saul he, "you men of blood, and cease from disturbing the town,or I will have you all clapt in the stocks for a week."
Then the captain spoke up and told him of the wrong and insult of theday before.
At this the worthy man looked grave. "Go back to your place," he said,"and it shall be seen to. I am wae that the folk of this town, who havethe benefit of my ministrations, set no better example to puir heathenEgyptians. But give up the quarrel at my bidding. 'Vengeance is mine,and I will repay,' saith the Lord."
"But haply, sir," said I, "as Augustine saith, we may be the Lord'sexecutors." And with this we turned and rode off, leaving the manstaring in open-mouthed wonder.