A man that apprehends death to be no more dreadful but as a
drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless of what's
past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality, and
desperately mortal.
Measure for Measure.
Glossin had made careful minutes of the information derived from
these examinations. They threw little light upon the story, so far
as he understood its purport; but the better informed reader has
received, through means of this investigation, an account of
Brown's proceedings, between the moment when we left him upon his
walk to Kippletringan, the time when, stung, by jealousy, he so
rashly and unhappily presented himself before Julia Mannering,
and well-nigh brought to a fatal termination the quarrel which his
appearance occasioned.
Glossin rode slowly back to Ellangowan, pondering on what he had
heard, and more and more convinced that the active and successful
prosecution of this mysterious business was an opportunity of
ingratiating himself with Hazlewood and Mannering to be on no
account neglected. Perhaps, also, he felt his professional
acuteness interested in bringing it to a successful close. It was,
therefore, with great pleasure that, on his return to his house
from Kippletringan, he heard his servants announce hastily, "that
Mac-Guffog, the thief-taker, and twa or three concurrents, had a
man in hands in the kitchen waiting for his honour."
He instantly jumped from horseback, and hastened into the house.
"Send my clerk here directly; ye'll find him copying the survey of
the estate in the little green parlour. Set things to rights in my
study, and wheel the great leathem chair up to the
writing-table--set a stool for Mr. Scrow. --Scrow (to the clerk,
as he entered the presence-chamber), hand down Sir George Mackenzie
on Crimes; open it at the section Vis Publica et Privata, and fold
down a leaf at the passage 'anent the bearing of unlawful weapons.'
Now lend me a hand off with my muckle-coat, and hang it up in the
lobby, and bid them bring up the prisoner--I trow I'll sort him--
but stay, first send up Mac-Guffog.--Now, Mac-Guffog, where did ye
find this chield?"
Mac-Guffog, a stout bandy-legged fellow, with a neck like a bull, a
face like a--firebrand, and a most portentous squint of the left
eye, began, after various contortions by way of courtesy to the
justice, to tell his story, eking it out by sundry sly nods and
knowing winks, which appeared to bespeak an intimate correspondence
of ideas between the narrator and his principal auditor. "Your
honour sees I went down to yon place that your honour spoke o',
that's kept by her that your honour kens o', by the sea-side.--
So, says she, what are you wanting here? Ye'll be come wi' a broom
in your pocket frae Ellangowan?--So, says I, deil a broom will come
frae there awa, for ye ken, says I, his honour Ellangowan himself
in former times--"
"Well, well," said Glossin, "no occasion to be particular, tell the
essentials."
"Weel, so we sat niffering [*Bargaining] about some brandy that I
said I wanted, till he came in."
"Who?"
"He!" pointing with his thumb inverted to the kitchen, where the
prisoner was in custody. "So he had his griego wrapped close round
him, and I judged he was not dry-handed [*Unarmed]--so I thought it
was best to speak proper, and so he believed I was a Manks man, and
I kept aye between him and her, for fear she had whistled. [*Given
information to the party concerned] And then we began to drink
about, and then I betted he would not drink out a quartern of
Hollands without drawing breath--and then he tried it--and just
then Slounging Jock and Dick Spur'em came in, and we clinked the
darbies [*Handcuffs] on him, took him as quiet as a lamb--and now
he's had his bit sleep out, and is as fresh as a May gowan, to
answer what your honour likes to speer." [*Inquire] This
narrative, delivered with a wonderful quantity of gesture and
grimace, received at the conclusion the thanks and praises which
the narrator expected.
"Had he no arms?" asked the Justice.
"Ay, ay, they are never without barkers and slashers."
"Any papers?"
"This bundle," delivering a dirty pocket-book. "Go downstairs,
then, Mac-Guffog,. and be in waiting." The officer left the room.
The clink of irons was immediately afterwards heard upon the stair,
and in two or three minutes a man was introduced, handcuffed and
fettered. He was thick, brawny, and muscular, and although his
shagged and grizzled hair marked an age somewhat advanced, and his
stature was rather low, he appeared, nevertheless, a person whom
few would have chosen to cope with in personal conflict. His
coarse and savage features were still flushed, and his eye still
reeled under the influence of the strong potation which had proved
the immediate cause of his seizure. But the sleep, though short,
which MacGuffog had allowed him, and still more a sense of the
peril of his situation, had restored to him the full use of his
faculties. The worthy judge, and the no less estimable captive,
looked at each other steadily for a long time without speaking.
Glossin apparently recognised his prisoner, but seemed at a loss
how to proceed with his investigation. At length he broke silence.
"Soh, Captain, this is you?--you have been a stranger on this coast
for some years."
"Stranger?" replied the other; "strange enough, I think--for hold
me der deyvil, if I been ever here before."
"That won't pass, Mr. Captain."
"That must pass, Mr. Justice--sapperment!"
"And who will you be pleased to call yourself, then, for the
present," said Glossin, "just until I shall bring some other folks
to refresh your memory, concerning who you are, or at least who you
have been?"
"What bin I?--donner and blitzen! I bin Jans Janson, from
Cuxhaven--what sall lch bin?"
Glossin took from a case which was in the apartment a pair of small
pocket pistols, which he loaded with ostentatious care. "You may
retire, "said he to his clerk," and carry the people with You,
Scrow--but wait in the lobby within call."
The clerk would have offered some remonstrances to his patron on
the danger of remaining alone with such a desperate character,
although ironed beyond the possibility of active exertion, but
Glossin waved him off impatiently. When he had left the room, the
justice took two short turns through the apartment, then drew his
chair opposite to the prisoner, so as to confront him fully, placed
the pistols before him in readiness, and said in a steady voice,
"You are Dirk Hatteraick of Flushing, are you not?"
The prisoner turned his eye instinctively to the door, as if he
apprehended some one was listening. Glossin rose, opened the door,
so that from the chair in which his prisoner sat he might satisfy
himself there was no eavesdropper within hearing, then shut it,
resumed his seat, and repeated his question, "You are Dirk
Hatteraick, formerly of the Yungfrauw Haagenslaapen are you not?"
"Tousand deyvils!--and if you know that, why ask me?" said the
prisoner.
"Because I am surprised to see you in the very last place where you
ought to be, if you regard your safety," observed Glossin coolly.
"Der deyvil!--no man regards his own safety that speaks so to me!"
"What? unarmed, and in irons!--well said, Captain!" replied
Glossin ironically. "But, Captain, bullying won't do--you'll
hardly get out of this country without accounting for a little
accident that happened at Warroch Point a few years ago."
Hatteraick's looks grew black as midnight.
"For my part," continued Glossin, "I have no particular wish to be
hard upon an old acquaintance--but I must do my duty--I shall
send you off to Edinburgh in a post-chaise and four this very day."
"Poz donner! you would not do that?" said Hatteraick,--in a lower
and more humbled tone; "why, you had the matter of half a cargo in
bills on Vanbeest and Vanbruggen."
"It is so long since, Captain Hatteraick," answered Glossin
superciliously, "that I really forget how I was recompensed for my
trouble."
"Your trouble? your silence, you mean."
"It was an affair in the course of business," said Glossin, "and I
have retired from business for some time."
"Ay, but I have a notion that I could make you go steady about, and
try the old course again," answered Dirk Hatteraick. "Why, man,
hold me der deyvil, but I meant to visit you, and tell you
something that concerns you."
"Of the boy?" said Glossin eagerly.
"Yaw, Mynheer," replied the Captain coolly.
"He does not live, does he?"
"As lifelich as you or I," said Hatteraick.
"Good God!--But in India?" exclaimed Glossin.
"No, tousand deyvils, here on this dirty coast of yours," rejoined
the prisoner.
"But, Hatteraick, this,--that is, if it be true, which I do not
believe,--this will ruin us both, for he cannot but remember your
neat job; and for me--it will be productive of the worst
consequences. It will ruin us both, I tell you."
"I tell you," said the seaman, "it will ruin none but you--for I
am done up already, and if I must strap for it, all shall out."
"Zounds!" said the justice impatiently, "what brought you back to
this coast like a madman?"
"Why, all the gelt was gone, and the house was shaking, and I
thought the job was clayed over and forgotten," answered the worthy
skipper.
"Stay--what can be done?" said Glossin anxiously. I dare not
discharge you--but might you not be rescued in the way--ay
sure--a word to Lieutenant Brown,--and I would send the people with
you by the coast-road."
"No, no! that won't do--Brown's dead-shot--laid in the locker,
man--the devil has the picking of him."
"Dead?--shot?--at Woodbourne, I suppose?" replied Glossin.
"Yaw, Mynheer."
Glossin paused--the sweat broke upon his brow with the agony of his
feelings, while the hard-featured miscreant who sat opposite,
coolly rolled his tobacco in his cheek, and squirted the juice into
the fire-grate. "It would be ruin," said Glossin to himself,
"absolute ruin, if the heir should reappear--and then what might be
the consequence of conniving with these men?--yet there is so
little time to take measures--Hark you, Hatteraick; I can't set you
at liberty--but I can put you where you may set yourself at
liberty--I always like to assist an old friend. I shall confine
you in the old castle for tonight, and give these people double
allowance of grog. Mac-Guffog will fall in the trap in which he
caught you. The stanchions on the window of the strong room, as
they call it, are wasted to pieces, and it is not above twelve feet
from the level of the ground without, and the snow lies thick."
"But the darbies," said Hatteraick, looking upon his fetters.
"Hark ye," said Glossin, going to a tool-chest, and taking out a
small file, "there's a friend for you, and you know the road to the
sea by the stairs." Hatteraick shook his chains in ecstasy, as if
he were already at liberty, and strove to extend his lettered hand
towards his protector. Glossin laid his finger upon his lips with a
cautious glance at the door, and then proceeded in his
instructions. "When you escape, you had better go to the Kaim of
Dernecleugh."
"Donner! that howff is blown."
"The devil!--well, then, you may steal my skiff that lies on the
beach there, and away. But you must remain snug at the Point of
Warroch till I come to see you."
"The Point of Warroch?" said Hatteraick, his countenance again
falling; "what, in the cave, I suppose?--I would rather it were
anywhere else;--es spuckt da!--they say for certain that he
walks--But, donner and blitzen! I never shunned him alive, and I
won't shun him dead--Strafe mich helle! it shall never be said Dirk
Hatteraick feared either dog or devil!--So I am to wait there till
I see you?"
"Ay, ay," answered Glossin, "and now I must call in the men." He
did so, accordingly.
"I can make nothing of Captain Janson, as he calls himself,
Mac-Guffog, and it's now too late to bundle him off to the county
jail. Is there not a strong room up yonder in the old castle?"
"Ay is there, sir; my uncle the constable ance kept a man there for
three days in auld Ellangowan's time. But there was an unco dust
about it--it was tried in the Inner House afore the Feifteen."
"I know all that, but this person will not stay there very
long--it's only a makeshift for a night, a mere lock-up house till
further examination. There is a small room through which it opens,
you may light a fire for yourselves there, and I'll send you plenty
of stuff to make you comfortable. But be sure you lock the door
upon the prisoner; and, hark ye, let him have a fire in the
strongroom too, the season requires it. Perhaps he'll make a clean
breast to-morrow."
With these instructions, and with a large allowance of food and
liquor, the justice dismissed his party to keep guard for the night
in the old castle, under the full hope and belief that they would
neither spend the night in watching, nor prayer.
There was little fear that Glossin himself should that night sleep
over-sound. His situation was perilous in the extreme, for the
schemes of a life of villainy seemed at once to be crumbling around
and above him. He laid himself to rest, and tossed upon his pillow
for a long time in vain. At length he fell asleep, but it was only
to dream of his patron,--now, as he had last seen him, with the
paleness of death upon his features, then again transformed into
all the vigour and comeliness of youth, approaching to expel him
from the mansion-house of his fathers. Then he dreamed, that after
wandering long over a wild heath, he came at length to an inn, from
which sounded the voice of revelry; and that when he entered, the
first person he met was Frank Kennedy, all smashed and gory, as he
had lain on the beach at Warroch Point, but with a reeking
punch-bowl in his hand. Then the scene changed to a dungeon, where
he heard Dirk Hatteraick, whom he imagined to be under sentence of
death, confessing his crimes to a clergyman.--"After the bloody
deed was done," said the penitent, "we retreated into a cave close
beside, the secret of which was known but to one man in the
country; we were debating what to do with the child, and we thought
of--giving it up to the gipsies, when we heard the cries of the
pursuers hallooing to each other. One man alone came straight to
our cave, and it was that man who knew the secret--but we made him
our friend at the expense of half the value of the goods saved. By
his, advice we carried off the child to Holland in our consort,
which came the following night to take us from the coast. That man
was--"
"No, I deny it!--it was not I!" said Glossin, in half-uttered
accents; and, struggling in his agony to express his denial more
distinctly, he awoke.
It was, however, conscience chat had, prepared this mental
phantasmagoria. The truth was, that, knowing much better than any
other person the haunts of the smugglers, he had, while the others
were searching in different directions, gone straight to the cave,
even before he had learned the murder of Kennedy, whom he expected
to find their prisoner. He came upon them with some idea of
mediation, but found them in the midst of their guilty terrors,
while the rage, which had hurried them on to murder, began, with
all but Hatteraick, to sink into remorse and fear. Glossin was
then indigent and greatly in debt, but he was already possessed of
Mr. Bertram's ear, and, aware of the facility of his disposition,
he saw no difficulty in enriching himself at his expense, provided
the heir-male were removed, in which case the estate became the
unlimited property of the weak and prodigal father. Stimulated by
present gain and the prospect of contingent advantage, he accepted
the bribe which the smugglers offered in their terror, and connived
at, or rather encouraged, their intention of carrying away the
child of his benefactor, who, if left behind, was old enough to
have described the scene of blood which he had witnessed. The only
palliative which the ingenuity of Glossin could offer to his
conscience was, that the temptation was great, and came suddenly
upon him, embracing as it were the very advantages on which his
mind had so long rested, and promising to relieve him from
distresses which must have otherwise speedily overwhelmed him.
Besides, he endeavoured to think that self-preservation rendered
his conduct necessary. He was, in some degree, in the power of the
robbers, and pleaded hard with his conscience, that, had he
declined their offers, the assistance which he could have called
for, though not distant, might not have arrived in time to save him
from men, who, on less provocation, had just committed murder.
Galled with the anxious forebodings of a guilty conscience, Glossin
now arose, and looked out upon the night. The scene which we have
already described in the third chapter of this story, was now
covered with snow, and the brilliant, though waste, whiteness of
the land, gave to the sea by contrast a dark and livid tinge. A
landscape covered with snow, though abstractedly it may be called
beautiful, has, both from the association of cold and barrenness,
and from its comparative infrequency, a wild, strange, and desolate
appearance. Objects, well known to us in their common state, have
either disappeared, or are so strangely varied and disguised, that
we seem gazing on an unknown world. But it was not with such
reflections that the mind of this bad man was occupied. His eye was
upon the gigantic and gloomy outlines of the old castle, where, in
a flanking tower of enormous size and thickness, glimmered two
lights, one from the window of the strong room, where Hatteraick
was confined, the other from that of the adjacent apartment
occupied by his keepers. "Has he made his escape, or will he be
able to do so?--Have these men watched, who never watched
before, in order to complete my ruin?--If morning finds him there,
he must be committed to prison; Mac-Morlan or some other person
will take the matter up--he will be detected--convicted--and will
tell all in revenge!--"
While these racking thoughts glided rapidly through Glossin's mind,
he observed one of the lights obscured, as by an opaque body placed
at the window. What a moment of interest!--"He has got clear of
his irons!--he is working at the stanchions of the window--they are
surely quite decayed, they must give way--O God! they have fallen
outward; I heard them clink among the stones!--the noise cannot
fail to wake them--furies seize his Dutch awkwardness!--The light
burns free again--they have torn him from the window, and are
binding him in the room!--No! he had only retired an instant on
the alarm of the falling bars--he is at the window again--and the
light is quite obscured now--he is getting out!--"
A heavy sound, as of a body dropped from a height among the snow,
announced that Hatteraick had completed his escape, and shortly
after Glossin beheld a dark figure, like a shadow, steal along the
whitened beach, and reach the spot where the skiff lay. New cause
for fear! "His single strength will be unable to float her," said
Glossin to himself; "I must go to the rascal's assistance. But no!
he has got her off, and now, thank God, her sail is spreading
itself against the moon--ay, he has got the breeze now--would to
Heaven it were a tempest, to sink him to the bottom!"
After this last cordial wish, he continued watching the progress of
the boat as it stood away towards the Point of Warroch, until he
could no longer distinguish the dusky sail from the gloomy waves
over which it glided. Satisfied then that the immediate danger was
averted, he retired with somewhat more composure to his guilty
pillow.