NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD
Our readers may recollect that Fairford had been conducted by Dick
Gardener from the house of Fairladies to the inn of old Father
Crackenthorp, in order, as he had been informed by the mysterious Father
Buonaventure, that he might have the meeting which he desired with Mr.
Redgauntlet, to treat with him for the liberty of his friend Darsie. His
guide, by the special direction of Mr. Ambrose, had introduced him into
the public-house by a back-door, and recommended to the landlord to
accommodate him with a private apartment, and to treat him with all
civility; but in other respects to keep his eye on him, and even to
secure his person, if he saw any reason to suspect him to be a spy. He
was not, however, subjected to any direct restraint, but was ushered
into an apartment where he was requested to await the arrival of
the gentleman with whom he wished to have an interview, and who, as
Crackenthorp assured, him with a significant nod, would be certainly
there in the course of an hour. In the meanwhile, he recommended to him,
with another significant sign, to keep his apartment, ‘as there were
people in the house who were apt to busy themselves about other folk’s
matters.’
Alan Fairford complied with the recommendation, so long as he thought
it reasonable; but when, among a large party riding up to the house, he
discerned Redgauntlet, whom he had seen under the name of Mr. Herries
of Birrenswork, and whom, by his height and strength, he easily
distinguished from the rest, he thought it proper to go down to the
front of the house, in hopes that, by more closely reconnoitring the
party, he might discover if his friend Darsie was among them.
The reader is aware that, by doing so, he had an opportunity of breaking
Darsie’s fall from his side-saddle, although his disguise and mask
prevented his recognizing his friend. It may be also recollected that
while Nixon hurried Miss Redgauntlet and her brother into the house,
their uncle, somewhat chafed at an unexpected and inconvenient
interruption, remained himself in parley with Fairford, who had already
successively addressed him by the names of Herries and Redgauntlet;
neither of which, any more than the acquaintance of the young lawyer,
he seemed at the moment willing to acknowledge, though an air of haughty
indifference, which he assumed, could not conceal his vexation and
embarrassment.
‘If we must needs be acquainted, sir,’ he said at last--‘for which I
am unable to see any necessity, especially as I am now particularly
disposed to be private--I must entreat you will tell me at once what you
have to say, and permit me to attend to matters of more importance.’
‘My introduction,’ said Fairford, ‘is contained in this
letter.--(Delivering that of Maxwell.)--I am convinced that, under
whatever name it may be your pleasure for the present to be known, it is
into your hands, and yours only, that it should be delivered.’
Redgauntlet turned the letter in his hand--then read the contents then
again looked upon the letter, and sternly observed, ‘The seal of the
letter has been broken. Was this the case, sir, when it was delivered
into your hand?’
Fairford despised a falsehood as much as any man,--unless, perhaps, as
Tom Turnpenny might have said, ‘in the way of business.’ He answered
readily and firmly, ‘The seal was whole when the letter was delivered to
me by Mr. Maxwell of Summertrees.’
‘And did you dare, sir, to break the seal of a letter addressed to me?’
said Redgauntlet, not sorry, perhaps, to pick a quarrel upon a point
foreign to the tenor of the epistle.
‘I have never broken the seal of any letter committed to my charge,’
said Alan; ‘not from fear of those to whom such letter might be
addressed, but from respect to myself.’
‘That is well worded,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘and yet, young Mr. Counsellor,
I doubt whether your delicacy prevented your reading my letter, or
listening to the contents as read by some other person after it was
opened.’
‘I certainly did hear the contents read over,’ said Fairford; ‘and they
were such as to surprise me a good deal.’
‘Now that,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘I hold to be pretty much the same, IN
FORO CONSCIENTIAE, as if you had broken the seal yourself. I shall hold
myself excused from entering upon further discourse with a messenger
so faithless; and you may thank yourself if your journey has been
fruitless.’
‘Stay, sir,’ said Fairford; ‘and know that I became acquainted with the
contents of the paper without my consent--I may even say, against my
will; for Mr. Buonaventure’--
‘Who?’ demanded Redgauntlet, in a wild and alarmed manner--‘WHOM was it
you named?’
‘Father Buonaventure,’ said Alan,--‘a Catholic priest, as I apprehend,
whom I saw at the Misses Arthuret’s house, called Fairladies.’
‘Misses Arthuret!--Fairladies!--A Catholic priest!--Father
Buonaventure!’ said Redgauntlet, repeating the words of Alan with
astonishment.--‘Is it possible that human rashness can reach such a
point of infatuation? Tell me the truth, I conjure you, sir. I have
the deepest interest to know whether this is more than an idle legend,
picked up from hearsay about the country. You are a lawyer, and know the
risk incurred by the Catholic clergy, whom the discharge of their duty
sends to these bloody shores.’
‘I am a lawyer, certainly,’ said Fairford; ‘but my holding such a
respectable condition in life warrants that I am neither an informer
nor a spy. Here is sufficient evidence that I have seen Father
Buonaventure.’
He put Buonaventure’s letter into Redgauntlet’s hand, and watched his
looks closely while he read it. ‘Double-dyed infatuation!’ he muttered,
with looks in which sorrow, displeasure, and anxiety were mingled.
‘“Save me from the indiscretion of my friends,” says the Spaniard; “I
can save myself from the hostility of my enemies.”’
He then read the letter attentively, and for two or three minutes
was lost in thought, while some purpose of importance seemed to have
gathered and sit brooding upon his countenance. He held up his finger
towards his satellite, Cristal Nixon, who replied to his signal with a
prompt nod; and with one or two of the attendants approached Fairford in
such a manner as to make him apprehensive they were about to lay hold of
him.
At this moment a noise was heard from withinside of the house, and
presently rushed forth Peter Peebles, pursued by Nanty Ewart with his
drawn hanger, and the worthy Quaker, who was endeavouring to prevent
mischief to others, at some risk of bringing it on himself.
A wilder and yet a more absurd figure can hardly be imagined, than that
of Poor Peter clattering along as fast as his huge boots would permit
him, and resembling nothing so much as a flying scarecrow; while the
thin emaciated form of Nanty Ewart, with the hue of death on his cheek,
and the fire of vengeance glancing from his eye, formed a ghastly
contrast with the ridiculous object of his pursuit.
Redgauntlet threw himself between them. ‘What extravagant folly is
this?’ he said. ‘Put up your weapon, captain. Is this a time to indulge
in drunken brawls, or is such a miserable object as that a fitting
antagonist for a man of courage?’
‘I beg pardon,’ said the captain, sheathing his weapon--‘I was a little
bit out of the way, to be sure; but to know the provocation, a man must
read my heart, and that I hardly dare to do myself. But the wretch is
safe from me. Heaven has done its own vengeance on us both.’
While he spoke in this manner, Peter Peebles, who had at first crept
behind Redgauntlet in bodily fear, began now to reassume his spirits.
Pulling his protector by the sleeve, ‘Mr. Herries--Mr. Herries,’ he
whispered, eagerly, ‘ye have done me mair than ae gude turn, and if ye
will but do me anither at this dead pinch, I’ll forgie the girded keg of
brandy that you and Captain Sir Harry Redgimlet drank out yon time. Ye
sall hae an ample discharge and renunciation, and, though I should see
you walking at the Cross of Edinburgh, or standing at the bar of the
Court of Justiciary, no the very thumbikins themselves should bring to
my memory that ever I saw you in arms yon day.’
He accompanied this promise by pulling so hard at Redgauntlet’s cloak,
that he at last turned round. ‘Idiot! speak in a word what you want.’
‘Aweel, aweel. In a word, then,’ said Peter Peebles, ‘I have a warrant
on me to apprehend that man that stands there, Alan Fairford by name,
and advocate by calling. I bought it from Maister Justice Foxley’s
clerk, Maister Nicholas Faggot, wi’ the guinea that you gied me.
‘Ha!’ said Redgauntlet, ‘hast thou really such a warrant? let me see it.
Look sharp that no one escape, Cristal Nixon.’
Peter produced a huge, greasy, leathern pocketbook, too dirty to
permit its original colour to be visible, filled with scrolls of notes,
memorials to counsel, and Heaven knows what besides. From amongst this
precious mass he culled forth a paper, and placed it in the hands of
Redgauntlet, or Herries, as he continued to call him, saying, at the
same time, ‘It’s a formal and binding warrant, proceeding on my affidavy
made, that the said Alan Fairford, being lawfully engaged in my service,
had slipped the tether and fled over the Border, and was now lurking
there and thereabouts, to elude and evite the discharge of his bounden
duty to me; and therefore granting warrant to constables and others,
to seek for, take, and apprehend him, that he may be brought before
the Honourable Justice Foxley for examination, and, if necessary, for
commitment. Now, though a’ this be fairly set down, as I tell ye, yet
where am I to get an officer to execute this warrant in sic a country as
this, where swords and pistols flee out at a word’s speaking, and folk
care as little for the peace of King George as the peace of Auld King
Coul? There’s that drunken skipper, and that wet Quaker, enticed me into
the public this morning, and because I wadna gie them’ as much brandy as
wad have made them blind-drunk, they baith fell on me, and were in the
way of guiding me very ill.’
While Peter went on in this manner, Redgauntlet glanced his eye over the
warrant, and immediately saw that it must be a trick passed by Nicholas
Faggot, to cheat the poor insane wretch out of his solitary guinea. But
the Justice had actually subscribed it, as he did whatever his clerk
presented to him, and Redgauntlet resolved to use it for his own
purposes.
Without making any direct answer, therefore, to Peter Peebles, he walked
up gravely to Fairford, who had waited quietly for the termination of
a scene in which he was not a little surprised to find his client, Mr.
Peebles, a conspicuous actor.
‘Mr. Fairford,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘there are many reasons which might
induce me to comply with the request, or rather the injunctions, of the
excellent Father Buonaventure, that I should communicate with you upon
the present condition of my ward, whom you know under the name of
Darsie Latimer; but no man is better aware than you that the law must be
obeyed, even in contradiction to our own feelings; now this poor man
has obtained a warrant for carrying you before a magistrate, and, I am
afraid, there is a necessity of your yielding to it, although to the
postponement of the business which you may have with me.’
‘A warrant against me!’ said Alan, indignantly; ‘and at that poor
miserable wretch’s instance?--why, this is a trick, a mere and most
palpable trick.’
‘It may be so,’ replied Redgauntlet, with great equanimity; ‘doubtless
you know best; only the writ appears regular, and with that respect
for the law which has been,’ he said, with hypocritical formality, ‘a
leading feature of my character through life, I cannot dispense with
giving my poor aid to the support of a legal warrant. Look at it
yourself, and be satisfied it is no trick of mine.’
Fairford ran over the affidavit and the warrant, and then exclaimed once
more, that it was an impudent imposition, and that he would hold those
who acted upon such a warrant liable in the highest damages. ‘I guess
at your motive, Mr. Redgauntlet,’ he said, ‘for acquiescing in so
ridiculous a proceeding. But be assured you will find that, in this
country, one act of illegal violence will not be covered or atoned for
by practising another. You cannot, as a man of sense and honour, pretend
to say you regard this as a legal warrant.’
‘I am no lawyer, sir,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘and pretend not to know what
is or is not law--the warrant is quite formal, and that is enough for
me.’
‘Did ever any one hear,’ said Fairford, ‘of an advocate being compelled
to return to his task, like a collier or a salter [See Note 10.] who has
deserted his master?’
‘I see no reason why he should not,’ said Redgauntlet, dryly, ‘unless
on the ground that the services of the lawyer are the most expensive and
least useful of the two.’
‘You cannot mean this in earnest,’ said Fairford; ‘you cannot really
mean to avail yourself of so poor a contrivance, to evade the word
pledged by your friend, your ghostly father, in my behalf. I may have
been a fool for trusting it too easily, but think what you must be if
you can abuse my confidence in this manner. I entreat you to reflect
that this usage releases me from all promises of secrecy or connivance
at what I am apt to think are very dangerous practices, and that’--
‘Hark ye, Mr. Fairford,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘I must here interrupt you
for your own sake. One word of betraying what you may have seen, or what
you may have suspected, and your seclusion is like to have either a very
distant or a very brief termination; in either case a most undesirable
one. At present, you are sure of being at liberty in a very few
days--perhaps much sooner.’
‘And my friend,’ said Alan Fairford, ‘for whose sake I have run myself
into this danger, what is to become of him? Dark and dangerous man!’ he
exclaimed, raising his voice, I will not be again cajoled by deceitful
promises’--
‘I give you my honour that your friend is well,’ interrupted
Redgauntlet; ‘perhaps I may permit you to see him, if you will but
submit with patience to a fate which is inevitable.’
But Alan Fairford, considering his confidence as having been abused,
first by Maxwell, and next by the priest, raised his voice, and appealed
to all the king’s lieges within hearing, against the violence with
which he was threatened. He was instantly seized on by Nixon and two
assistants, who, holding down his arms, and endeavouring to stop his
mouth, were about to hurry him away.
The honest Quaker, who had kept out of Redgauntlet’s presence, now came
boldly forward.
‘Friend,’ said he, ‘thou dost more than thou canst answer. Thou knowest
me well, and thou art aware that in me thou hast a deeply injured
neighbour, who was dwelling beside thee in the honesty and simplicity of
his heart.’
‘Tush, Jonathan,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘talk not to me, man; it is neither
the craft of a young lawyer, nor the SIMPLICITY of an old hypocrite, can
drive me from my purpose.
‘By my faith,’ said the captain, coming forward in his turn, ‘this is
hardly fair, general; and I doubt,’ he added, ‘whether the will of my
owners can make me a party to such proceedings. Nay, never fumble with
your sword-hilt, but out with it like a man, if you are for a tilting.’
He unsheathed his hanger, and continued--‘I will neither see my comrade
Fairford, nor the old Quaker, abused. D----n all warrants, false or
true--curse the justice--confound the constable!--and here stands little
Nanty Ewart to make good what he says against gentle and simple, in
spite of horse-shoe or horse-radish either.’
The cry of ‘Down with all warrants!’ was popular in the ears of the
militia of the inn, and Nanty Ewart was no less so. Fishers, ostlers,
seamen, smugglers, began to crowd to the spot. Crackenthorp endeavoured
in vain to mediate. The attendants of Redgauntlet began to handle their
firearms; but their master shouted to them to forbear, and, unsheathing
his sword as quick as lightning, he rushed on Ewart in the midst of
his bravado, and struck his weapon from his hand with such address and
force, that it flew three yards from him. Closing with him at the same
moment, he gave him a severe fall, and waved his sword over his head, to
show he was absolutely at his mercy.
‘There, you drunken vagabond,’ he said, ‘I give you your life--you are
no bad fellow if you could keep from brawling among your friends. But
we all know Nanty Ewart,’ he said to the crowd around, with a forgiving
laugh, which, joined to the awe his prowess had inspired, entirely
confirmed their wavering allegiance.
They shouted, ‘The laird for ever!’ while poor Nanty, rising from the
earth, on whose lap he had been stretched so rudely, went in quest of
his hanger, lifted it, wiped it, and, as he returned the weapon to the
scabbard, muttered between his teeth, ‘It is true they say of him, and
the devil will stand his friend till his hour come; I will cross him no
more.’
So saying, he slunk from the crowd, cowed and disheartened by his
defeat.
‘For you, Joshua Geddes,’ said Redgauntlet, approaching the Quaker, who,
with lifted hands and eyes, had beheld the scene of violence, ‘l shall
take the liberty to arrest thee for a breach of the peace, altogether
unbecoming thy pretended principles; and I believe it will go hard with
thee both in a court of justice and among thine own Society of Friends,
as they call themselves, who will be but indifferently pleased to
see the quiet tenor of their hypocrisy insulted by such violent
proceedings.’
‘I violent!’ said Joshua; ‘I do aught unbecoming the principles of the
Friends! I defy thee, man, and I charge thee, as a Christian, to forbear
vexing my soul with such charges: it is grievous enough to me to have
seen violences which I was unable to prevent.’
‘O Joshua, Joshua!’ said Redgauntlet, with a sardonic smile; ‘thou light
of the faithful in the town of Dumfries and the places adjacent, wilt
thou thus fall away from the truth? Hast thou not, before us all,
attempted to rescue a man from the warrant of law? Didst thou not
encourage that drunken fellow to draw his weapon--and didst thou not
thyself flourish thy cudgel in the cause? Think’st thou that the oaths
of the injured Peter Peebles, and the conscientious Cristal Nixon,
besides those of such gentlemen as look on this strange scene, who not
only put on swearing as a garment, but to whom, in Custom House matters,
oaths are literally meat and drink,--dost thou not think, I say, that
these men’s oaths will go further than thy Yea and Nay in this matter?’
‘I will swear to anything,’ said Peter. ‘All is fair when it comes to an
oath AD LITEM.’
‘You do me foul wrong,’ said the Quaker, undismayed by the general
laugh. ‘I encouraged no drawing of weapons, though I attempted to move
an unjust man by some use of argument--I brandished no cudgel, although
it may be that the ancient Adam struggled within me, and caused my hand
to grasp mine oaken staff firmer than usual, when I saw innocence borne
down with violence. But why talk I what is true and just to thee, who
hast been a man of violence from thy youth upwards? Let me rather speak
to thee such language as thou canst comprehend. Deliver these young men
up to me,’ he said, when he had led Redgauntlet a little apart from the
crowd, ‘and I will not only free thee from the heavy charge of damages
which thou hast incurred by thine outrage upon my property, but I will
add ransom for them and for myself. What would it profit thee to do the
youths wrong, by detaining them in captivity?’
‘Mr. Geddes,’ said Redgauntlet, in a tone more respectful than he had
hitherto used to the Quaker, ‘your language is disinterested, and I
respect the fidelity of your friendship. Perhaps we have mistaken each
other’s principles and motives; but if so, we have not at present time
for explanation. Make yourself easy. I hope to raise your friend
Darsie Latimer to a pitch of eminence which you will witness with
pleasure;--nay, do not attempt to answer me. The other young man shall
suffer restraint a few days, probably only a few hours,--it is not more
than due for his pragmatical interference in what concerned him not.
Do you, Mr. Geddes, be so prudent as to take your horse and leave this
place, which is growing every moment more unfit for the abode of a man
of peace. You may wait the event in safety at Mount Sharon.’
‘Friend,’ replied Joshua, ‘I cannot comply with thy advice; I will
remain here, even as thy prisoner, as thou didst but now threaten,
rather than leave the youth who hath suffered by and through me and my
misfortunes, in his present state of doubtful safety. Wherefore I will
not mount my steed Solomon; neither will I turn his head towards Mount
Sharon, until I see an end of this matter.’
‘A prisoner, then, you must be,’ said Redgauntlet. ‘I have no time to
dispute the matter further with you. But tell me for what you fix your
eyes so attentively on yonder people of mine.’
‘To speak the truth,’ said the Quaker, ‘I admire to behold among them
a little wretch of a boy called Benjie, to whom I think Satan has given
the power of transporting himself wheresoever mischief is going forward;
so that it may be truly said, there is no evil in this land wherein he
hath not a finger, if not a whole hand.’
The boy, who saw their eyes fixed on him as they spoke, seemed
embarrassed, slid rather desirous of making his escape; but at a signal
from Redgauntlet he advanced, assuming the sheepish look and rustic
manner with which the jackanapes covered much acuteness and roguery.
‘How long have you been with the party, sirrah?’ said Redgauntlet.
‘Since the raid on the stake-nets,’ said Benjie, with his finger in his
mouth.
‘And what made you follow us?’
‘I dauredna stay at hame for the constables,’ replied the boy.
‘And what have you been doing all this time?’
‘Doing, sir? I dinna ken what ye ca’ doing--I have been doing naething,’
said Benjie; then seeing something in Redgauntlet’s eye which was not
to be trifled with, he added, ‘Naething but waiting on Maister Cristal
Nixon.’
‘Hum!--aye--indeed?’ muttered Redgauntlet. ‘Must Master Nixon bring his
own retinue into the field? This must be seen to.’
He was about to pursue his inquiry, when Nixon himself came to him with
looks of anxious haste, ‘The Father is come,’ he whispered, ‘and the
gentlemen are getting together in the largest room of the house, and
they desire to see you. Yonder is your nephew, too, making a noise like
a man in Bedlam.’
‘I will look to it all instantly,’ said Redgauntlet. ‘Is the Father
lodged as I directed?’
Cristal nodded.
‘Now, then, for the final trial,’ said Redgauntlet. He folded his
hands--looked upwards--crossed himself--and after this act of devotion
(almost the first which any one had observed him make use of) he
commanded Nixon to keep good watch--have his horses and men ready for
every emergence--look after the safe custody of the prisoners--but treat
them at the same time well and civilly. And, these orders given, he
darted hastily into the house.