When, however, I recollected the circumstances in which we formerly
met, I could not doubt that the billet was most probably designed for
him. He had made a marked figure among those mysterious personages
over whom Diana seemed to exercise an influence, and from whom she
experienced an influence in her turn. It was painful to think that
the fate of a being so amiable was involved in that of desperadoes of
this man's description; yet it seemed impossible to doubt it. Of what
use, however, could this person be to my father's affairs. I could
think only of one. Rashleigh Osbaldistone had, at the instigation of
Miss Vernon, certainly found means to produce Mr. Campbell when his
presence was necessary to exculpate me from Morris's accusation. Was
it not possible that her influence, in like manner, might prevail on
Campbell to produce Rashleigh? Speaking on this supposition, I
requested to know where my dangerous kinsman was, and when Mr.
Campbell had seen him. The answer was indirect.
"It's a kittle cast she has gien me to play; but yet it's fair play,
and I winna baulk her. Mr. Osbaldistone, I dwell not very far from
hence--my kinsman can show you the way. Leave Mr. Owen to do the best
he can in Glasgow--do you come and see me in the glens, and it's like
I may pleasure you, and stead your father in his extremity. I am but a
poor man; but wit's better than wealth--and, cousin" (turning from me
to address Mr. Jarvie), "if ye daur venture sae muckle as to eat a
dish of Scotch collops, and a leg o' red-deer venison wi' me, come ye
wi' this Sassenach gentleman as far as Drymen or Bucklivie, or the
Clachan of Aberfoil, will be better than ony o' them, and I'll hae
somebody waiting to weise ye to the gate to the place where I may be
for the time. What say ye, man? There's my thumb, I'll ne'er beguile
thee."
"Na, na, Robin," said the cautious burgher, "I seldom like to leave
the Gorbals, I have nae freedom to gang among your wild hills, Robin,
and your kilted red-shanks--it disna become my place, man."
"The devil damn your place and you baith!" reiterated Campbell. "The
only drap o' gentle bluid that's in your body was our great
grand-uncle's that was justified at Dumbarton, and you set yourself up
to say ye wad degrogate frae your place to visit me! Hark thee, man, I
owe thee a day in harst--I'll pay up your thousan pund Scots, plack
and bawbee, gin ye'll be an honest fellow for anes, and just daiker up
the gate wi' this Sassenach."
"Hout awa' wi' your gentility," replied the Bailie: "carry your gentle
bluid to the Cross, and see what ye'll buy wi't. But, if I were to
come, wad ye really and soothfastly pay me the siller?"
"I swear to ye," said the Highlander, "upon the halidome of him that
sleeps beneath the gray stane at Inche-Cailleach."
"Say nae mair, Robin--say nae mair. We'll see what may be dune. But ye
maunna expect me to gang ower the Hieland line--I'll gae beyond the
line at no rate. Ye maun meet me about Bucklivie or the Clachan of
Aberfoil, and dinna forget the needful."
"Nae fear--nae fear," said Campbell; "I'll be as true as the steel
blade that never failed its master. But I must be budging, cousin,
for the air o' Glasgow tolbooth is no that ower salutary to be a
Highlander's constitution."
"Troth," replied the merchant, "and if my duty were to be dune, ye
couldna change your atmosphere, as the minister ca's it, this ae wee
while. Ochon, that I ad ever be concerned in aiding and abetting an
escape frae justice! it will be a shame and disgrace to me and mine,
and my father's memory, forever."
"Hout tout, man! let that flee stick in the wa'," answered his
kinsman; "when the dirt's dry it will rub out. Your father, honest
man, could look over a friend's fault as weel as anither."
"Ye may be right, Robin," replied the Bailie, after a moment's
reflection; "he was a considerate man the deacon; he ken'd we had a'
our frailties, and he lo'ed his friends. Ye'll no hae forgotten him,
Robin?" This question he put in a softened tone, conveying as much at
least of the ludicrous as the pathetic.
"Forgotten him!" replied his kinsman, "what suld ail me to forget
him?--a wapping weaver he was, and wrought my first pair o' hose. But
come awa, kinsman,
"Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses, and call up my man;
Come open your gates, and let me gae free,
I daurna stay langer in bonny Dundee."
"Whisht, sir," said the magistrate, in an authoritative tone--"lilting
and singing sae near the latter end o' the Sabbath! This house may
hear ye sing anither tune yet. Aweel, we hae a' backslidings to
answer for--Stanchells, open the door."
The jailer obeyed, and we all sallied forth. Stanchells looked with
some surprize at the two strangers, wondering, doubtless, how they
came into these premises without his knowledge; but Mr. Jarvie's
"Friends o' mine, Stanchells--friends o' mine," silenced all
disposition to inquiries. We now descended into the lower vestibule,
and hallooed more than once for Dougal, to which summons no answer was
returned; when Campbell observed, with a sardonic smile, "That if
Dougal was the lad he kent him, he would scarce wait to get thanks for
his ain share of the night's wark, but was in all probability on the
full trot to the pass of Ballmaha"--
"And left us--and, abune a', me mysell, locked up in the tolbooth a'
night!" exclaimed the Bailie, in ire and perturbation. "Ca' for
fore-hammers, sledge-hammers, pinches, and coulters; send for Deacon
Yettlin, the smith, and let him ken that Bailie Jarvie's shut up in
the tolbooth by a Hieland blackguard, whom he'll hang up as high as
Haman"--
"When we catch him," said Campbell gravely; "but stay, the door is
surely not locked."
Indeed, on examination, we found that the door was not only left open,
but that Dougal in his retreat had, by carrying off the keys along
with him, taken care that no one should exercise his office of porter
in a hurry.
"He has glimmerings o' common sense now, that creature Dougal," said
Campbell; "he ken'd an open door might hae served me at a pinch."
We were by this time in the street.
"I tell you, Robin," said the magistrate, "in my puir mind, if ye live
the life ye do, ye suld hae ane o' your gillies doorkeeper in every
jail of Scotland, in case o' the warst."
"Ane o' my kinsman a bailie in ilka burgh will just do as weel, Cousin
Nicol. So, gude-nicht or gude-morning to ye; and forget not the
Clachan of Aberfoil."
And without waiting for an answer, he sprang to the other side of the
street, and was lost in darkness. Immediately on his disappearance, we
heard him give a low whistle of peculiar modulation, which was
instantly replied to.
"Hear to the Hieland deevils," said Mr. Jarvie; "they think themselves
on the skirts of Benlomond already, where they may gang whewing,
whistling about without minding Sunday or Saturday." Here he was
interrupted by some thing which fell with a heavy clash on the street
before us. "Gude guide us! what's this mair o't--Mattie, haud up the
lantern--conscience! if it isna the keys! Weel, that's just as
well--they cost the burgh siller, and there might hae been some
clavers about the loss o' them--O, an Bailie Grahame were to get word
o' this nicht's job, it wad be a sair hair in my neck!"
As we were still but a few steps from the tolbooth door, we carried
back these implements of office, and consigned them to the head
jailer, who, in lieu of the usual mode of making good his post by
turning the keys, was keeping sentry in the vestibule till the arrival
of some assistant whom he had summoned in order to replace Celtic
fugitive Dougal.
Having discharged this piece of duty to the burgh, and my road lying
the same way with the honest magistrate's, I profited by the light of
his lantern, and he by my arm, to find our way through the streets,
which, whatever they may now be, were then dark, uneven, and
ill-paved. Age is easily propitiated by attentions from the young. The
Bailie exprest himself interested in me, and added, "That since I was
nane o' that play-acting and play-ganging generation, whom his saul
hated, he wad eat a reisted haddock, or a fresh herring, at breakfast
wi' him the morn, and meet my friend, Mr. Owen, whom, by that time, he
would place at liberty."
"My dear sir," said I, when I had accepted of the invitation with
thanks, "how could you possibly connect me with the stage?"
"I watna," replied Mr. Jarvie; "it was a bletherin' phrasin' chield
they ca' Fairservice that cam at e'en to get an order to send the
crier through the toun for ye at skreigh o' day the morn. He tell't me
whae ye were, and how ye were sent frae your father's house because ye
wadna be a dealer, and that ye michtna disgrace your family wi'
ganging on the stage. Ane Hammorgaw, our precentor, brought him here,
and said he was an auld acquaintance; but I sent them baith awa' wi' a
flae in their lug for bringing me sic an errand on sic a night. But I
see he's a fule-creature a' thegither and clean mista'en about ye. I
like ye, man," he continued; "I like a lad that will stand by his
friends in troubles--I ay did it mysell, and sae did the deacon my
father, rest and bless him! But he suldna keep ower muckle company wi'
Hielandmen and thae wild cattle. Can a man touch pitch and no be
defiled?--aye mind that. Nae doubt, the best and wisest may err--once,
twice, and thrice, have I backslidden, man, and dune three things this
night--my father wadna hae believed his een if he could hae looked up
and seen me do them."
He was by this time arrived at the door of his own dwelling. He
paused, however, on the threshold, and went on in a solemn tone of
deep contrition, "Firstly, I hae thought my ain thought on the
Sabbath. Secondly, I hae gien security for an Englishman--and, in the
third and last place, well a-day! I hae let an ill-doer escape from
the place of imprisonment. But there's balm in Gilead, Mr.
Osbaldistone--Mattie, I can let mysell in--see Mr. Osbaldistone to
Luckie Flyter's, at the corner o' the wynd. Mr. Osbaldistone"--in a
whisper--"ye'll offer nae incivility to Mattie--she's an honest man's
daughter, and a near cousin o' the Laird o' Limmerfield's."