"Bravo, Hector! that's the most sensible thing I ever heard you say.

But always tell me your plans without reserve,—why, I will go with you

myself, man. I am sure the old fellow is not guilty, and I will assist

him in such a scrape much more effectually than you can do. Besides, it

will save thee half-a-guinea, my lad—a consideration which I heartily

pray you to have more frequently before your eyes."

Lord Glenallan's politeness had induced him to turn away and talk with

the ladies, when the dispute between the uncle and nephew appeared to

grow rather too animated to be fit for the ear of a stranger, but the

Earl mingled again in the conversation when the placable tone of the

Antiquary expressed amity. Having received a brief account of the

mendicant, and of the accusation brought against him, which Oldbuck did

not hesitate to ascribe to the malice of Dousterswivel, Lord Glenallan

asked, whether the individual in question had not been a soldier

formerly?—He was answered in the affirmative.

"Had he not," continued his Lordship, "a coarse blue coat, or gown, with

a badge?—was he not a tall, striking-looking old man, with grey beard

and hair, who kept his body remarkably erect, and talked with an air

of ease and independence, which formed a strong contrast to his

profession?"

"All this is an exact picture of the man," refumed Oldbuck.

"Why, then," continued Lord Glenallan, "although I fear I can be of no

use to him in his present condition, yet I owe him a debt of gratitude

for being the first person who brought me some tidings of the utmost

importance. I would willingly offer him a place of comfortable

retirement, when he is extricated from his present situation."

"I fear, my lord," said Oldbuck, "he would have difficulty in

reconciling his vagrant habits to the acceptance of your bounty, at

least I know the experiment has been tried without effect. To beg from

the public at large he considers as independence, in comparison to

drawing his whole support from the bounty of an individual. He is so far

a true philosopher, as to be a contemner of all ordinary rules of hours

and times. When he is hungry he eats; when thirsty he drinks; when weary

he sleeps; and with such indifference with respect to the means and

appliances about which we make a fuss, that I suppose he was never ill

dined or ill lodged in his life. Then he is, to a certain extent, the

oracle of the district through which he travels—their genealogist, their

newsman, their master of the revels, their doctor at a pinch, or their

divine;—I promise you he has too many duties, and is too zealous in

performing them, to be easily bribed to abandon his calling. But I

should be truly sorry if they sent the poor light-hearted old man to

lie for weeks in a jail. I am convinced the confinement would break his

heart."

Thus finished the conference. Lord Glenallan, having taken leave of

the ladies, renewed his offer to Captain M'Intyre of the freedom of his

manors for sporting, which was joyously accepted,

"I can only add," he said, "that if your spirits are not liable to be

damped by dull company, Glenallan House is at all times open to you. On

two days of the week, Friday and Saturday, I keep my apartment, which

will be rather a relief to you, as you will be left to enjoy the society

of my almoner, Mr. Gladsmoor, who is a scholar and a man of the world."

Hector, his heart exulting at the thoughts of ranging through the

preserves of Glenallan House, and over the well-protected moors of

Clochnaben—nay, joy of joys! the deer-forest of Strath-Bonnel—made many

acknowledgements of the honour and gratitude he felt. Mr. Oldbuck

was sensible of the Earl's attention to his nephew; Miss M'Intyre was

pleased because her brother was gratified; and Miss Griselda Oldbuck

looked forward with glee to the potting of whole bags of moorfowl and

black-game, of which Mr. Blattergowl was a professed admirer. Thus,—

which is always the case when a man of rank leaves a private family

where he has studied to appear obliging,—all were ready to open in

praise of the Earl as soon as he had taken his leave, and was wheeled

off in his chariot by the four admired bays. But the panegyric was cut

short, for Oldbuck and his nephew deposited themselves in the Fairport

hack, which, with one horse trotting, and the other urged to a canter,

creaked, jingled, and hobbled towards that celebrated seaport, in a

manner that formed a strong contrast to the rapidity and smoothness with

which Lord Glenallan's equipage had seemed to vanish from their eyes.

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.

Yes! I love justice well—as well as you do—

But since the good dame's blind, she shall excuse me

If, time and reason fitting, I prove dumb;—

The breath I utter now shall be no means

To take away from me my breath in future.

Old Play.

By dint of charity from the town's-people in aid of the load of

provisions he had brought with him into durance, Edie Ochiltree had

passed a day or two's confinement without much impatience, regretting

his want of freedom the less, as the weather proved broken and rainy.

"The prison," he said, "wasna sae dooms bad a place as it was ca'd. Ye

had aye a good roof ower your head to fend aff the weather, and, if the

windows werena glazed, it was the mair airy and pleasant for the summer

season. And there were folk enow to crack wi', and he had bread eneugh

to eat, and what need he fash himsell about the rest o't?"

The courage of our philosophical mendicant began, however, to abate,

when the sunbeams shone fair on the rusty bars of his grated dungeon,

and a miserable linnet, whose cage some poor debtor had obtained

permission to attach to the window, began to greet them with his

whistle.

"Ye're in better spirits than I am," said Edie, addressing the bird,

"for I can neither whistle nor sing for thinking o' the bonny burnsides

and green shaws that I should hae been dandering beside in weather like

this. But hae—there's some crumbs t'ye, an ye are sae merry; and troth

ye hae some reason to sing an ye kent it, for your cage comes by nae

faut o' your ain, and I may thank mysell that I am closed up in this

weary place."

Ochiltree's soliloquy was disturbed by a peace-officer, who came to

summon him to attend the magistrate. So he set forth in awful procession

between two poor creatures, neither of them so stout as he was himself,

to be conducted into the presence of inquisitorial justice. The people,

as the aged prisoner was led along by his decrepit guards, exclaimed to

each other, "Eh! see sic a grey-haired man as that is, to have

committed a highway robbery, wi' ae fit in the grave!"—And the children

congratulated the officers, objects of their alternate dread and

sport, Puggie Orrock and Jock Ormston, on having a prisoner as old as

themselves.

Thus marshalled forward, Edie was presented (by no means for the first

time) before the worshipful Bailie Littlejohn, who, contrary to what his

name expressed, was a tall portly magistrate, on whom corporation

crusts had not been conferred in vain. He was a zealous loyalist of that

zealous time, somewhat rigorous and peremptory in the execution of

his duty, and a good deal inflated with the sense of his own power and

importance;— otherwise an honest, well-meaning, and useful citizen.

"Bring him in! bring him in!" he exclaimed. "Upon my word these are

awful and unnatural times! the very bedesmen and retainers of his

Majesty are the first to break his laws. Here has been an old Blue-Gown

committing robbery—I suppose the next will reward the royal charity

which supplies him with his garb, pension, and begging license, by

engaging in high-treason, or sedition at least—But bring him in."

Edie made his obeisance, and then stood, as usual, firm and erect, with

the side of his face turned a little upward, as if to catch every

word which the magistrate might address to him. To the first general

questions, which respected only his name and calling, the mendicant

answered with readiness and accuracy; but when the magistrate, having

caused his clerk to take down these particulars, began to inquire

whereabout the mendicant was on the night when Dousterswivel met with

his misfortune, Edie demurred to the motion. "Can ye tell me now,

Bailie, you that understands the law, what gude will it do me to answer

ony o' your questions?"

"Good?—no good certainly, my friend, except that giving a true account

of yourself, if you are innocent, may entitle me to set you at liberty."

"But it seems mair reasonable to me now, that you, Bailie, or anybody

that has anything to say against me, should prove my guilt, and no to be

bidding me prove my innocence."

"I don't sit here," answered the magistrate, "to dispute points of law

with you. I ask you, if you choose to answer my question, whether you

were at Ringan Aikwood, the forester's, upon the day I have specified?"

"Really, sir, I dinna feel myself called on to remember," replied the

cautious bedesman.

"Or whether, in the course of that day or night," continued the

magistrate, "you saw Steven, or Steenie, Mucklebackit?—you knew him, I

suppose?"

"O, brawlie did I ken Steenie, puir fallow," replied the prisoner;—"but

I canna condeshend on ony particular time I have seen him lately."

"Were you at the ruins of St. Ruth any time in the course of that

evening?"

"Bailie Littlejohn," said the mendicant, "if it be your honour's

pleasure, we'll cut a lang tale short, and I'll just tell ye, I am no

minded to answer ony o' thae questions—I'm ower auld a traveller to let

my tongue bring me into trouble."

"Write down," said the magistrate, "that he declines to answer all

interrogatories, in respect that by telling the truth he might be

brought to trouble."

"Na, na," said Ochiltree, "I'll no hae that set down as ony part o' my

answer—but I just meant to say, that in a' my memory and practice, I

never saw ony gude come o' answering idle questions."

"Write down," said the Bailie, "that, being acquainted with judicial

interrogatories by long practice, and having sustained injury by

answering questions put to him on such occasions, the declarant refuses"

"Na, na, Bailie," reiterated Edie, "ye are no to come in on me that gait

neither."

"Dictate the answer yourself then, friend," said the magistrate, "and

the clerk will take it down from your own mouth."

"Ay, ay," said Edie—"that's what I ca' fair play; I'se do that without

loss o' time. Sae, neighbour, ye may just write down, that Edie

Ochiltree, the declarant, stands up for the liberty—na, I maunna say

that neither—I am nae liberty-boy—I hae fought again' them in the riots

in Dublin—besides, I have ate the King's bread mony a day. Stay, let

me see. Ay—write that Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-Gown, stands up for the

prerogative—(see that ye spell that word right—it's a lang ane)—for the

prerogative of the subjects of the land, and winna answer a single word

that sall be asked at him this day, unless he sees a reason fort. Put

down that, young man."

"Then, Edie," said the magistrate, "since you will give no information

on the subject, I must send you back to prison till you shall be

delivered in due course of law."

"Aweel, sir, if it's Heaven's will and man's will, nae doubt I maun

submit," replied the mendicant. "I hae nae great objection to the

prison, only that a body canna win out o't; and if it wad please you

as weel, Bailie, I wad gie you my word to appear afore the Lords at the

Circuit, or in ony other coart ye like, on ony day ye are pleased to

appoint."

"I rather think, my good friend," answered Bailie Littlejohn, "your word

might be a slender security where your neck may be in some danger. I am

apt to think you would suffer the pledge to be forfeited. If you could

give me sufficient security, indeed"—

At this moment the Antiquary and Captain M'Intyre entered the

apartment.—"Good morning to you, gentlemen," said the magistrate; "you

find me toiling in my usual vocation—looking after the iniquities of the

people—labouring for the respublica, Mr. Oldbuck—serving the King our

master, Captain M'Intyre,—for I suppose you know I have taken up the

sword?"

"It is one of the emblems of justice, doubtless," answered the

Antiquary;—"but I should have thought the scales would have suited you

better, Bailie, especially as you have them ready in the warehouse."

"Very good, Monkbarns—excellent! But I do not take the sword up as

justice, but as a soldier—indeed I should rather say the musket and

bayonet—there they stand at the elbow of my gouty chair, for I am scarce

fit for drill yet—a slight touch of our old acquaintance podagra; I can

keep my feet, however, while our sergeant puts me through the manual.

I should like to know, Captain M'Intyre, if he follows the regulations

correctly—he brings us but awkwardly to the present." And he hobbled

towards his weapon to illustrate his doubts and display his proficiency.

"I rejoice we have such zealous defenders, Bailie," replied Mr. Oldbuck;

"and I dare say Hector will gratify you by communicating his opinion

on your progress in this new calling. Why, you rival the Hecate' of

the ancients, my good sir—a merchant on the Mart, a magistrate in the

Townhouse, a soldier on the Links—quid non pro patria? But my business

is with the justice; so let commerce and war go slumber."

"Well, my good sir," said the Bailie, "and what commands have you for

me?"

"Why, here's an old acquaintance of mine, called Edie Ochiltree, whom

some of your myrmidons have mewed up in jail on account of an alleged

assault on that fellow Dousterswivel, of whose accusation I do not

believe one word."

The magistrate here assumed a very grave countenance. "You ought to have

been informed that he is accused of robbery, as well as assault—a very

serious matter indeed; it is not often such criminals come under my

cognizance."

"And," replied Oldbuck, "you are tenacious of the opportunity of making

the very most of such as occur. But is this poor old man's case really

so very bad?"

"It is rather out of rule," said the Bailie—"but as you are in the

commission, Monkbarns, I have no hesitation to show you Dousterswivel's

declaration, and the rest of the precognition." And he put the papers

into the Antiquary's hands, who assumed his spectacles, and sat down in

a corner to peruse them.

The officers, in the meantime, had directions to remove their prisoner

into another apartment; but before they could do so, M'Intyre took an

opportunity to greet old Edie, and to slip a guinea into his hand.

"Lord bless your honour!" said the old man; "it's a young soldier's

gift, and it should surely thrive wi' an auld ane. I'se no refuse it,

though it's beyond my rules; for if they steek me up here, my friends

are like eneugh to forget me—out o'sight out o'mind, is a true proverb;

and it wadna be creditable for me, that am the king's bedesman, and

entitled to beg by word of mouth, to be fishing for bawbees out at the

jail window wi' the fit o' a stocking, and a string." As he made this

observation he was conducted out of the apartment.

Mr. Dousterswivel's declaration contained an exaggerated account of the

violence he had sustained, and also of his loss.

"But what I should have liked to have asked him," said Monkbarns, "would

have been his purpose in frequenting the ruins of St. Ruth, so lonely

a place, at such an hour, and with such a companion as Edie Ochiltree.

There is no road lies that way, and I do not conceive a mere passion for

the picturesque would carry the German thither in such a night of storm

and wind. Depend upon it, he has been about some roguery, and in all

probability hath been caught in a trap of his own setting—Nec lex

justitior ulla."

The magistrate allowed there was something mysterious in that

circumstance, and apologized for not pressing Dousterswivel, as his

declaration was voluntarily emitted. But for the support of the main

charge, he showed the declaration of the Aikwoods concerning the state

in which Dousterswivel was found, and establishing the important fact

that the mendicant had left the barn in which he was quartered, and did

not return to it again. Two people belonging to the Fairport undertaker,

who had that night been employed in attending the funeral of Lady

Glenallan, had also given declarations, that, being sent to pursue

two suspicious persons who left the ruins of St. Ruth as the funeral

approached, and who, it was supposed, might have been pillaging some

of the ornaments prepared for the ceremony, they had lost and regained

sight of them more than once, owing to the nature of the ground, which

was unfavourable for riding, but had at length fairly lodged them both

in Mucklebackit's cottage. And one of the men added, that "he, the

declarant, having dismounted from his horse, and gone close up to

the window of the hut, he saw the old Blue-Gown and young Steenie

Mucklebackit, with others, eating and drinking in the inside, and

also observed the said Steenie Mucklebackit show a pocket-book to

the others;—and declarant has no doubt that Ochiltree and Steenie

Mucklebackit were the persons whom he and his comrade had pursued, as

above mentioned." And being interrogated why he did not enter the said

cottage, declares, "he had no warrant so to do; and that as Mucklebackit

and his family were understood to be rough-handed folk, he, the

declarant, had no desire to meddle or make with their affairs, Causa

scientiae patet. All which he declares to be truth," etc.

"What do you say to that body of evidence against your friend?" said the

magistrate, when he had observed the Antiquary had turned the last leaf.

"Why, were it in the case of any other person, I own I should say it

looked, prima facie, a little ugly; but I cannot allow anybody to be in

the wrong for beating Dousterswivel—Had I been an hour younger, or had

but one single flash of your warlike genius, Bailie, I should have done

it myself long ago. He is nebulo nebulonum, an impudent, fraudulent,

mendacious quack, that has cost me a hundred pounds by his roguery, and

my neighbour Sir Arthur, God knows how much. And besides, Bailie, I do

not hold him to be a sound friend to Government."

"Indeed?" said Bailie Littlejohn; "if I thought that, it would alter the

question considerably."

"Right—for, in beating him," observed Oldbuck, "the bedesman must have

shown his gratitude to the king by thumping his enemy; and in robbing

him, he would only have plundered an Egyptian, whose wealth it is lawful

to spoil. Now, suppose this interview in the ruins of St. Ruth had

relation to politics,—and this story of hidden treasure, and so forth,

was a bribe from the other side of the water for some great man, or the

funds destined to maintain a seditious club?"

"My dear sir," said the magistrate, catching at the idea, "you hit my

very thoughts! How fortunate should I be if I could become the humble

means of sifting such a matter to the bottom!—Don't you think we had

better call out the volunteers, and put them on duty?"

"Not just yet, while podagra deprives them of an essential member of

their body. But will you let me examine Ochiltree?"

"Certainly; but you'll make nothing of him. He gave me distinctly to

understand he knew the danger of a judicial declaration on the part of

an accused person, which, to say the truth, has hanged many an honester

man than he is."

"Well, but, Bailie," continued Oldbuck, "you have no objection to let me

try him?"

"None in the world, Monkbarns. I hear the sergeant below—I'll rehearse

the manual in the meanwhile. Baby, carry my gun and bayonet down to the

room below—it makes less noise there when we ground arms." And so exit

the martial magistrate, with his maid behind him bearing his weapons.

"A good squire that wench for a gouty champion," observed Oldbuck.—

"Hector, my lad, hook on, hook on—Go with him, boy—keep him employed,

man, for half-an-hour or so—butter him with some warlike terms—praise

his dress and address."

Captain M'Intyre, who, like many of his profession, looked down with

infinite scorn on those citizen soldiers who had assumed arms without

any professional title to bear them, rose with great reluctance,

observing that he should not know what to say to Mr. Littlejohn; and

that to see an old gouty shop-keeper attempting the exercise and duties

of a private soldier, was really too ridiculous.

"It may be so, Hector," said the Antiquary, who seldom agreed with any

person in the immediate proposition which was laid down—"it may possibly

be so in this and some other instances; but at present the country

resembles the suitors in a small-debt court, where parties plead in

person, for lack of cash to retain the professed heroes of the bar. I

am sure in the one case we never regret the want of the acuteness and

eloquence of the lawyers; and so, I hope, in the other, we may manage to

make shift with our hearts and muskets, though we shall lack some of the

discipline of you martinets."

"I have no objection, I am sure, sir, that the whole world should fight

if they please, if they will but allow me to be quiet," said Hector,

rising with dogged reluctance.

"Yes, you are a very quiet personage indeed," said his uncle, "whose

ardour for quarrelling cannot pass so much as a poor phoca sleeping upon

the beach!"

But Hector, who saw which way the conversation was tending, and hated

all allusions to the foil he had sustained from the fish, made his

escape before the Antiquary concluded the sentence.

CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

Well, well, at worst, 'tis neither theft nor coinage,

Granting I knew all that you charge me with.

What though the tomb hath borne a second birth,

And given the wealth to one that knew not on't,

Yet fair exchange was never robbery,

Far less pure bounty—

Old Play.

The Antiquary, in order to avail himself of the permission given him to

question the accused party, chose rather to go to the apartment in which

Ochiltree was detained, than to make the examination appear formal by

bringing him again into the magistrate's office. He found the old man

seated by a window which looked out on the sea; and as he gazed on that

prospect, large tears found their way, as if unconsciously, to his eye,

and from thence trickled down his cheeks and white beard. His features

were, nevertheless, calm and composed, and his whole posture and mien

indicated patience and resignation. Oldbuck had approached him without

being observed, and roused him out of his musing by saying kindly, "I

am sorry, Edie, to see you so much cast down about this matter." The

Antiquary Visits Edie in Prison

The mendicant started, dried his eyes very hastily with the sleeve of

his gown, and endeavouring to recover his usual tone of indifference

and jocularity, answered, but with a voice more tremulous than usual,

"I might weel hae judged, Monkbarns, it was you, or the like o' you,

was coming in to disturb me—for it's ae great advantage o' prisons and

courts o' justice, that ye may greet your een out an ye like, and nane

o' the folk that's concerned about them will ever ask you what it's

for."

"Well, Edie," replied Oldbuck, "I hope your present cause of distress is

not so bad but it may be removed."

"And I had hoped, Monkbarns," answered the mendicant, in a tone of

reproach, "that ye had ken'd me better than to think that this bit

trifling trouble o' my ain wad bring tears into my auld een, that hae

seen far different kind o' distress.—Na, na!—But here's been the puir

lass, Caxon's daughter, seeking comfort, and has gotten unco little—

there's been nae speerings o' Taffril's gunbrig since the last gale;

and folk report on the key that a king's ship had struck on the Reef

of Rattray, and a' hands lost—God forbid! for as sure as you live,

Monkbarns, the puir lad Lovel, that ye liked sae weel, must have

perished."

"God forbid indeed!" echoed the Antiquary, turning pale—"I would rather

Monkbarns House were on fire. My poor dear friend and coadjutor! I will

down to the quay instantly."

"I'm sure yell learn naething mair than I hae tauld ye, sir," said

Ochiltree, "for the officer-folk here were very civil (that is, for the

like o' them), and lookit up ae their letters and authorities, and could

throw nae light on't either ae way or another."