My grandfather and his companion hastened on in their journey, but
instead of going to Stirling they crossed the river at Alloa, and so
passed by the water-side way to Edinburgh, where, on entering the
West-port, they separated. The bailie, who was a fearful man and in
constant dread and terror of being burned as a heretic for having broke
in upon the dalliance of his incontinent wife and the carnal-minded
primate of St Andrews, went to a cousin of his own, a dealer in serge
and temming in the Lawnmarket, with whom he concealed himself for some
weeks, but my grandfather proceeded straight towards the lodging of the
Earl of Glencairn to recount to his lordship the whole passages of what
he had been concerned in, from the night that he departed from his
presence.
It was by this time the mirkest of the gloaming, for they had purposely
tarried on their journey that they might enter Edinburgh at dusk. The
shops of the traders were shut, for in those days there was such a
resort of sorners and lawless men among the trains of the nobles and
gentry that it was not safe for honest merchants to keep their shops
open after nightfall. Nevertheless the streets were not darkened, for
there were then many begging-boxes, with images of the saints, and
cruisies burning afore them, in divers parts of the High Street and
corners of the wynds, insomuch that it was easy, as I have heard my
grandfather tell, to see and know anyone passing in the light thereof.
And, indeed, what befel himself was proof of it, for as he was coming
through St Giles' Kirkyard, which is now the Parliament Close, and
through which at that time there was a style and path for passengers, a
young man, whom he had observed following him, came close up just as he
reached a begging image of the Virgin Mary with its lamp that stood on a
pillar at the south-east corner of the cathedral, and touching him on
the left shoulder at that spot made him look round in such a manner that
the light of the Virgin's lamp fell full on his face.
"Dinna be frighted," said the stranger, "I ken you, and I'm in Lord
Glencairn's service; but follow me and say nothing."
My grandfather was not a little startled by this salutation; he,
however, made no observe, but replied, "Go on, then."
So the stranger went forward, and, after various turnings and windings,
led him down into the Cowgate and up a close on the south side thereof,
and then to a dark timber stair that was so frail and creaking and
narrow that his guide bade him haul himself up with the help of a rope
that hung down dangling for that purpose.
When they had raised themselves to the stairhead, the stranger opened a
door and they went together into a small and lonesome chamber, in the
chimla-nook of which an old iron cruisie was burning with a winking and
wizard light.
"I hae brought you here," said his conductor, "for secrecy, for my Lord
disna want that ye should be seen about his lodging. I'm ane of three
that hae been lang seeking you, and, as a token that ye're no deceived,
I was bade to tell you that before parting from my lord he gi'ed you two
pieces of gold out of his coffer in the chamber where he supped."
My grandfather thought this very like a proof that he had been so
informed by the Earl himself, but happening to remark that he sat with
his back to the light and kept his face hidden in the shadow of the
darkness, Providence put it into his head to jealouse that he might
nevertheless be a spy, one perhaps that had been trusted in like manner
as he had himself been trusted, and who had afterwards sold himself to
the perdition of the adversaries' cause; he was, accordingly, on his
guard, but replied with seeming frankness that it was very true he had
received two pieces of gold from the Earl at his departure.
"Then," said the young man, "by that token ye may know that I am in the
private service of the Earl, who, for reasons best known to himsel',
hath willed that you should tell me, that I may report the same secretly
to him, what espionage you have made."
My grandfather was perplexed by this speech, but distrust having crept
into his thoughts, instead of replying with a full recital of all his
adventures, he briefly said that he had indeed effected nothing, for his
soul was sickened by the woful martyrdom of the godly Master Mill to so
great a disease that he could not endure to abide in St Andrews, and
therefore he had come back.
"But you have been long on the way--how is that?--it is now many days
since the burning," replied the stranger.
"You say truly," was my grandfather's answer, "for I came round by
Perth, but I tarried at no place longer than was needful to repair and
refresh nature."
"Perth was a wide bout gait to take frae St Andrews to come to
Edinburgh. I marvel how ye went so far astray," said the young man,
curiously.
"In sooth it was, but being sorely demented with the tragical end of the
godly old man," replied my grandfather, "and seeing that I could do the
Earl no manner of service, I wist not well what course to take, so after
meickle tribulation of thought and great uncertainty of purpose I e'en
resolved to come hither."
Little more passed; the young man rose and said to my grandfather he
feared the Earl would be so little content with him that he had better
not go near him but seek some other master. And when they had descended
the stair and were come into the street he advised him to go to the
house of a certain Widow Rippet, that let dry lodgings in the
Grass-market, and roost there for that night. The which my grandfather
in a manner signified he would do, and so they parted.
The stranger at first walked soberly away, but he had not gone many
paces when he suddenly turned into a close leading up to the
High-street, and my grandfather heard the pattering of his feet running
as swiftly as possible, which confirmed to him what he suspected; and
so, instead of going towards the Widow Rippet's house he turned back and
went straight on to St Mary's Wynd, where the Earl's lodging was, and
knocking at the yett was speedily admitted and conducted instanter to my
Lord's presence, whom he found alone reading many papers which lay on a
table before him.
"Gilhaize," said the Earl, "how is this? why have you come back? and
wherefore is it that I have heard no tidings from you?"
Whereupon my grandfather recounted to him all the circumstantials which
I have rehearsed, from the hour of his departure from Edinburgh up till
the very time when he then stood in his master's presence. The Earl made
no inroad on his narrative while he was telling it, but his countenance
often changed and he was much moved at different passages--sometimes
with sorrow and sometimes with anger; and he laughed vehemently at the
mishap which had befallen the grand adversary of the Congregation and
his concubine. The adventure, however, with the unknown varlet in the
street appeared to make his Lordship very thoughtful, and no less than
thrice did he question my grandfather if he had indeed given but those
barren answers which I have already recited; to all which he received
the most solemn asseverations that no more was said. His Lordship then
sat some time cogitating with his hands resting on his thighs, his brows
bent, and his lips pursed as with sharp thought. At last he said,--
"Gilhaize, you have done better in this than I ought to have expected of
one so young and unpractised. The favour you won with Sir David Hamilton
was no more than I thought your looks and manners would beget. But you
are not only well-favoured but well-fortuned; and had you not found
yourself worthily bound to your duty I doubt not you might have
prospered in the Archbishop's household. The affair with Madam
Kilspinnie was a thing I reckoned not of, yet therein you have proved
yourself not only a very Joseph, but so ripe in wit beyond your years
that your merits deserve more commendation than I can afford to give,
for I have not sufficient to bestow on the singular prudence and
discernment wherewith you have parried the treacherous thrusts of that
Judas Iscariot, Winterton, for so I doubt not is the traitor who waylaid
you. He was once in my service and is now in the Queen Regent's. In
sending off my men on errands similar to yours, I was wont to give them
two pieces of gold, and this the false loon has gathered to be a custom
from others as well as by his own knowledge, and he has made it the key
to open the breasts of my servants. To know this, however, is a great
discovery. But, Gilhaize, not to waste words, you have your master's
confidence. Go, therefore, I pray you, with all speed to the Widow
Rippet's and do as Winterton bade you and as chance may require. In the
morning come again hither, for I have this night many weighty affairs,
and you have shown yourself possessed of a discerning spirit, that may,
in these times of peril and perjury, help the great cause of all good
Scotchmen."
In saying these most acceptable words, he clapped my grandfather on the
shoulder, and encouraged him to be as true-hearted as he was
sharp-witted, and he could not fail to earn both treasure and trusts. So
my grand-father left him, and went to the Widow Rippet's in the
Grass-market; and around her kitchen fire he found some four or five
discarded knaves that were bargaining with her for beds, or for leave to
sleep by the hearth; and he had not been long seated among them when his
heart was grieved with pain to see Winterton come in, and behind him the
two simple lads of Lithgow that had left their homes with him, whom, it
appeared, the varlet had seduced from the Earl of Glencairn's service
and inveigled into the Earl of Seaton's, a rampant papist, by the same
wiles wherewith he thought he had likewise made a conquest of my
grandfather, whom they had all come together to see; for the two Lithgow
lads, like reynard the fox when he had lost his tail, were eager that he
too should make himself like them. He feigned, however, great weariness,
and indeed his heart was heavy to see such skill of wickedness in so
young a man as he saw in Winterton. So, after partaking with them of
some spiced ale which Winterton brought from the Salutation tavern,
opposite the gallow's-stone, he declared himself overcome with sleep,
and perforce thereof obligated to go to bed. But when they were gone,
and he had retired to his sorry couch, no sleep came to his eyelids, but
only hot and salt tears; for he thought that he had been in a measure
concerned in bringing away the two thoughtless lads from their homes,
and he saw that they were not tempered to resist the temptations of the
world, but would soon fall away from their religious integrity, and
become lewd and godless roisters, like the wuddy worthies that paid
half-price for leave to sleep on the widow's hearth.