A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with
thine ears. See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief.
Hark in thine ear: Change places; and, handy-dandy, which
is the justice, which is the thief?
--King Lear.
Among those who took the most lively interest in endeavouring to discover
the person by whom young Charles Hazlewood had been waylaid and wounded
was Gilbert Glossin, Esquire, late writer in ----, now Laird of
Ellangowan, and one of the worshipful commission of justices of the peace
for the county of ----. His motives for exertion on this occasion were
manifold; but we presume that our readers, from what they already know of
this gentleman, will acquit him of being actuated by any zealous or
intemperate love of abstract justice.
The truth was, that this respectable personage felt himself less at ease
than he had expected, after his machinations put him in possession of his
benefactor’s estate. His reflections within doors, where so much occurred
to remind him of former times, were not always the self-congratulations
of successful stratagem. And when he looked abroad he could not but be
sensible that he was excluded from the society of the gentry of the
county, to whose rank he conceived he had raised himself. He was not
admitted to their clubs, and at meetings of a public nature, from which
he could not be altogether excluded, he found himself thwarted and looked
upon with coldness and contempt. Both principle and prejudice cooperated
in creating this dislike; for the gentlemen of the county despised him
for the lowness of his birth, while they hated him for the means by which
he had raised his fortune. With the common people his reputation stood
still worse. They would neither yield him the territorial appellation of
Ellangowan nor the usual compliment of Mr. Glossin: with them he was bare
Glossin; and so incredibly was his vanity interested by this trifling
circumstance, that he was known to give half-a-crown to a beggar because
he had thrice called him Ellangowan in beseeching him for a penny. He
therefore felt acutely the general want of respect, and particularly when
he contrasted his own character and reception in society with those of
Mr. Mac-Morlan, who, in far inferior worldly circumstances, was beloved
and respected both by rich and poor, and was slowly but securely laying
the foundation of a moderate fortune, with the general good-will and
esteem of all who knew him.
Glossin, while he repined internally at what he would fain have called
the prejudices and prepossessions of the country, was too wise to make
any open complaint. He was sensible his elevation was too recent to be
immediately forgotten, and the means by which he had attained it too
odious to be soon forgiven. But time, thought he, diminishes wonder and
palliates misconduct. With the dexterity, therefore, of one who made his
fortune by studying the weak points of human nature, he determined to lie
by for opportunities to make himself useful even to those who most
disliked him; trusting that his own abilities, the disposition of country
gentlemen to get into quarrels, when a lawyer’s advice becomes precious,
and a thousand other contingencies, of which, with patience and address,
he doubted not to be able to avail himself, would soon place him in a
more important and respectable light to his neighbours, and perhaps raise
him to the eminence sometimes attained by a shrewd, worldly, bustling man
of business, when, settled among a generation of country gentlemen, he
becomes, in Burns’s language,
The tongue of the trump to them a’.
The attack on Colonel Mannering’s house, followed by the accident of
Hazlewood’s wound, appeared to Glossin a proper opportunity to impress
upon the country at large the service which could be rendered by an
active magistrate (for he had been in the commission for some time), well
acquainted with the law, and no less so with the haunts and habits of the
illicit traders. He had acquired the latter kind of experience by a
former close alliance with some of the most desperate smugglers, in
consequence of which he had occasionally acted, sometimes as a partner,
sometimes as legal adviser, with these persons, But the connexion had
been dropped many years; nor, considering how short the race of eminent
characters of this description, and the frequent circumstances occur to
make them retire from particular scenes of action, had he the least
reason to think that his present researches could possibly compromise any
old friend who might possess means of retaliation. The having been
concerned in these practices abstractedly was a circumstance which,
according to his opinion, ought in no respect to interfere with his now
using his experience in behalf of the public, or rather to further his
own private views. To acquire the good opinion and countenance of Colonel
Mannering would be no small object to a gentleman who was much disposed
to escape from Coventry, and to gain the favour of old Hazlewood, who was
a leading man in the county, was of more importance still. Lastly, if he
should succeed in discovering, apprehending, and convicting the culprits,
he would have the satisfaction of mortifying, and in some degree
disparaging, Mac-Morlan, to whom, as sheriff-substitute of the county,
this sort of investigation properly belonged, and who would certainly
suffer in public opinion should the voluntary exertions of Glossin be
more successful than his own.
Actuated by motives so stimulating, and well acquainted with the lower
retainers of the law, Glossin set every spring in motion to detect and
apprehend, if possible, some of the gang who had attacked Woodbourne, and
more particularly the individual who had wounded Charles Hazlewood. He
promised high rewards, he suggested various schemes, and used his
personal interest among his old acquaintances who favoured the trade,
urging that they had better make sacrifice of an understrapper or two
than incur the odium of having favoured such atrocious proceedings. But
for some time all these exertions were in vain. The common people of the
country either favoured or feared the smugglers too much to afford any
evidence against them. At length this busy magistrate obtained
information that a man, having the dress and appearance of the person who
had wounded Hazlewood, had lodged on the evening before the rencontre at
the Gordon Arms in Kippletringan. Thither Mr. Glossin immediately went,
for the purpose of interrogating our old acquaintance Mrs. Mac-Candlish.
The reader may remember that Mr. Glossin did not, according to this good
woman’s phrase, stand high in her books. She therefore attended his
summons to the parlour slowly and reluctantly, and, on entering the room,
paid her respects in the coldest possible manner. The dialogue then
proceeded as follows:--
‘A fine frosty morning, Mrs. Mac-Candlish.’
‘Ay, sir; the morning’s weel eneugh,’ answered the landlady, drily.
‘Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I wish to know if the justices are to dine here as
usual after the business of the court on Tuesday?’
‘I believe--I fancy sae, sir--as usual’ (about to leave the room).
‘Stay a moment, Mrs. Mac-Candlish; why, you are in a prodigious hurry, my
good friend! I have been thinking a club dining here once a month would
be a very pleasant thing.’
‘Certainly, sir; a club of RESPECTABLE gentlemen.’
‘True, true,’ said Glossin, ‘I mean landed proprietors and gentlemen of
weight in the county; and I should like to set such a thing a-going.’
The short dry cough with which Mrs. Mac-Candlish received this proposal
by no means indicated any dislike to the overture abstractedly
considered, but inferred much doubt how far it would succeed under the
auspices of the gentleman by whom it was proposed. It was not a cough
negative, but a cough dubious, and as such Glossin felt it; but it was
not his cue to take offence.
‘Have there been brisk doings on the road, Mrs. Mac-Candlish? Plenty of
company, I suppose?’
‘Pretty weel, sir,--but I believe I am wanted at the bar.’
‘No, no; stop one moment, cannot you, to oblige an old customer? Pray, do
you remember a remarkably tall young man who lodged one night in your
house last week?’
‘Troth, sir, I canna weel say; I never take heed whether my company be
lang or short, if they make a lang bill.’
‘And if they do not, you can do that for them, eh, Mrs. Mac-Candlish? ha,
ha, ha! But this young man that I inquire after was upwards of six feet
high, had a dark frock, with metal buttons, light-brown hair unpowdered,
blue eyes, and a straight nose, travelled on foot, had no servant or
baggage; you surely can remember having seen such a traveller?’
‘Indeed, sir,’ answered Mrs. Mac-Candlish, bent on baffling his
inquiries, ‘I canna charge my memory about the matter; there’s mair to do
in a house like this, I trow, than to look after passengers’ hair, or
their een, or noses either.’
‘Then, Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I must tell you in plain terms that this person
is suspected of having been guilty of a crime; and it is in consequence
of these suspicions that I, as a magistrate, require this information
from you; and if you refuse to answer my questions, I must put you upon
your oath.’
‘Troth, sir, I am no free to swear; [Footnote: Some of the strict
dissenters decline taking an oath before a civil magistrate.] we ay gaed
to the Antiburgher meeting. It’s very true, in Bailie Mac-Candlish’s time
(honest man) we keepit the kirk, whilk was most seemly in his station, as
having office; but after his being called to a better place than
Kippletringan I hae gaen back to worthy Maister Mac-Grainer. And so ye
see, sir, I am no clear to swear without speaking to the minister,
especially against ony sackless puir young thing that’s gaun through the
country, stranger and freendless like.’
‘I shall relieve your scruples, perhaps, without troubling Mr.
Mac-Grainer, when I tell you that this fellow whom I inquire after is the
man who shot your young friend Charles Hazlewood.’
‘Gudeness! wha could hae thought the like o’ that o’ him? Na, if it had
been for debt, or e’en for a bit tuilzie wi’ the gauger, the deil o’
Nelly Mac-Candlish’s tongue should ever hae wranged him. But if he really
shot young Hazlewood--but I canna think it, Mr. Glossin; this will be
some o’ your skits now. I canna think it o’ sae douce a lad; na, na, this
is just some o’ your auld skits. Ye’ll be for having a horning or a
caption after him.’
‘I see you have no confidence in me, Mrs. Mac-Candlish; but look at these
declarations, signed by the persons who saw the crime committed, and
judge yourself if the description of the ruffian be not that of your
guest.’
He put the papers into her hand, which she perused very carefully, often
taking off her spectacles to cast her eyes up to heaven, or perhaps to
wipe a tear from them, for young Hazlewood was an especial favourite with
the good dame. ‘Aweel, aweel,’ she said, when she had concluded her
examination, ‘since it’s e’en sae, I gie him up, the villain. But O, we
are erring mortals! I never saw a face I liked better, or a lad that was
mair douce and canny: I thought he had been some gentleman under trouble.
But I gie him up, the villain! To shoot Charles Hazlewood, and before the
young ladies, poor innocent things! I gie him up.’
‘So you admit, then, that such a person lodged here the night before this
vile business?’
‘Troth did he, sir, and a’ the house were taen wi’ him, he was sic a
frank, pleasant young man. It wasna for his spending, I’m sure, for he
just had a mutton-chop and a mug of ale, and maybe a glass or twa o’
wine; and I asked him to drink tea wi’ mysell, and didna put that into
the bill; and he took nae supper, for he said he was defeat wi’ travel a’
the night afore. I daresay now it had been on some hellicat errand or
other.’
‘Did you by any chance learn his name?’
‘I wot weel did I,’ said the landlady, now as eager to communicate her
evidence as formerly desirous to suppress it. ‘He tell’d me his name was
Brown, and he said it was likely that an auld woman like a gipsy wife
might be asking for him. Ay, ay! tell me your company, and I’ll tell you
wha ye are! O the villain! Aweel, sir, when he gaed away in the morning
he paid his bill very honestly, and gae something to the chambermaid nae
doubt; for Grizzy has naething frae me, by twa pair o’ new shoo ilka
year, and maybe a bit compliment at Hansel Monanday--’ Here Glossin found
it necessary to interfere and bring the good woman back to the point.
‘Ou then, he just said, “If there comes such a person to inquire after
Mr. Brown, you will say I am gone to look at the skaters on Loch Creeran,
as you call it, and I will be back here to dinner.” But he never came
back, though I expected him sae faithfully that I gae a look to making
the friar’s chicken mysell, and to the crappitheads too, and that’s what
I dinna do for ordinary, Mr. Glossin. But little did I think what skating
wark he was gaun about--to shoot Mr. Charles, the innocent lamb!’
Mr. Glossin having, like a prudent examinator, suffered his witness to
give vent to all her surprise and indignation, now began to inquire
whether the suspected person had left any property or papers about the
inn.
‘Troth, he put a parcel--a sma’ parcel--under my charge, and he gave me
some siller, and desired me to get him half-a-dozen ruffled sarks, and
Peg Pasley’s in hands wi’ them e’en now; they may serve him to gang up
the Lawnmarket [Footnote: The procession of the criminals to the gallows
of old took that direction, moving, as the school-boy rhyme had it, Up
the Lawnmarket, Down the West Bow, Up the lang ladder, And down the
little tow.] in, the scoundrel!’ Mr. Glossin then demanded to see the
packet, but here mine hostess demurred.
‘She didna ken--she wad not say but justice should take its course--but
when a thing was trusted to ane in her way, doubtless they were
responsible; but she suld cry in Deacon Bearcliff, and if Mr. Glossin
liked to tak an inventar o’ the property, and gie her a receipt before
the Deacon--or, what she wad like muckle better, an it could be sealed up
and left in Deacon Bearcliff’s hands--it wad mak her mind easy. She was
for naething but justice on a’ sides.’
Mrs. Mac-Candlish’s natural sagacity and acquired suspicion being
inflexible, Glossin sent for Deacon Bearcliff, to speak ‘anent the
villain that had shot Mr. Charles Hazlewood.’ The Deacon accordingly made
his appearance with his wig awry, owing to the hurry with which, at this
summons of the Justice, he had exchanged it for the Kilmarnock cap in
which he usually attended his customers. Mrs. Mac-Candlish then produced
the parcel deposited with her by Brown, in which was found the gipsy’s
purse. On perceiving the value of the miscellaneous contents, Mrs.
Mac-Candlish internally congratulated herself upon the precautions she
had taken before delivering them up to Glossin, while he, with an
appearance of disinterested candour, was the first to propose they should
be properly inventoried, and deposited with Deacon Bearcliff, until they
should be sent to the Crown-office. ‘He did not,’ he observed, ‘like to
be personally responsible for articles which seemed of considerable
value, and had doubtless been acquired by the most nefarious practices.’
He then examined the paper in which the purse had been wrapt up. It was
the back of a letter addressed to V. Brown, Esquire, but the rest of the
address was torn away. The landlady, now as eager to throw light upon the
criminal’s escape as she had formerly been desirous of withholding it,
for the miscellaneous contents of the purse argued strongly to her mind
that all was not right,--Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I say, now gave Glossin to
understand that her position and hostler had both seen the stranger upon
the ice that day when young Hazlewood was wounded.
Our readers’ old acquaintance Jock Jabos was first summoned, and admitted
frankly that he had seen and conversed upon the ice that morning with a
stranger, who, he understood, had lodged at the Gordon Arms the night
before.
‘What turn did your conversation take?’ said Glossin.
‘Turn? ou, we turned nae gate at a’, but just keep it straight forward
upon the ice like.’
‘Well, but what did ye speak about?’
‘Ou, he just asked questions like ony ither stranger,’ answered the
postilion, possessed, as it seemed, with the refractory and
uncommunicative spirit which had left his mistress.
‘But about what?’ said Glossin.
‘Ou, just about the folk that was playing at the curling, and about auld
Jock Stevenson that was at the cock, and about the leddies, and sic
like.’
‘What ladies? and what did he ask about them, Jock?’ said the
interrogator.
‘What leddies? Ou, it was Miss Jowlia Mannering and Miss Lucy Bertram,
that ye ken fu’ weel yoursell, Mr. Glossin; they were walking wi’ the
young Laird of Hazlewood upon the ice.’
‘And what did you tell him about them?’ demanded Glossin.
‘Tut, we just said that was Miss Lucy Bertram of Ellangowan, that should
ance have had a great estate in the country; and that was Miss Jowlia
Mannering, that was to be married to young Hazlewood, see as she was
hinging on his arm. We just spoke about our country clashes like; he was
a very frank man.’
‘Well, and what did he say in answer?’
‘Ou, he just stared at the young leddies very keen-like, and asked if it
was for certain that the marriage was to be between Miss Mannering and
young Hazlewood; and I answered him that it was for positive and absolute
certain, as I had an undoubted right to say sae; for my third cousin Jean
Clavers (she’s a relation o’ your ain, Mr. Glossin, ye wad ken Jean lang
syne?), she’s sib to the houskeeper at Woodbourne, and she’s tell’d me
mair than ance that there was naething could be mair likely.’
‘And what did the stranger say when you told him all this?’ said Glossin.
‘Say?’ echoed the postilion, ‘he said naething at a’; he just stared at
them as they walked round the loch upon the ice, as if he could have
eaten them, and he never took his ee aff them, or said another word, or
gave another glance at the bonspiel, though there was the finest fun
amang the curlers ever was seen; and he turned round and gaed aff the
loch by the kirkstile through Woodbourne fir-plantings, and we saw nae
mair o’ him.’
‘Only think,’ said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, ‘what a hard heart he maun hae had,
to think o’ hurting the poor young gentleman in the very presence of the
leddy he was to be married to!’
‘O, Mrs. Mac-Candlish,’ said Glossin, ‘there’s been many cases such as
that on the record; doubtless he was seeking revenge where it would be
deepest and sweetest.’
‘God pity us!’ said Deacon Bearcliff, ‘we’re puir frail creatures when
left to oursells! Ay, he forgot wha said, “Vengeance is mine, and I will
repay it.”’
‘Weel, aweel, sirs,’ said Jabos, whose hard-headed and uncultivated
shrewdness seemed sometimes to start the game when others beat the
bush--‘weel, weel, ye may be a’ mista’en yet; I’ll never believe that a
man would lay a plan to shoot another wi’ his ain gun. Lord help ye, I
was the keeper’s assistant down at the Isle mysell, and I’ll uphaud it
the biggest man in Scotland shouldna take a gun frae me or I had weized
the slugs through him, though I’m but sic a little feckless body, fit for
naething but the outside o’ a saddle and the fore-end o’ a poschay; na,
na, nae living man wad venture on that. I’ll wad my best buckskins, and
they were new coft at Kirkcudbright Fair, it’s been a chance job after
a’. But if ye hae naething mair to say to me, I am thinking I maun gang
and see my beasts fed’; and he departed accordingly.
The hostler, who had accompanied him, gave evidence to the same purpose.
He and Mrs. Mac-Candlish were then reinterrogated whether Brown had no
arms with him on that unhappy morning. ‘None,’ they said, ‘but an
ordinary bit cutlass or hanger by his side.’
‘Now,’ said the Deacon, taking Glossin by the button (for, in considering
this intricate subject, he had forgot Glossin’s new accession of
rank), ‘this is but doubtfu’ after a’, Maister Gilbert; for it was not sae
dooms likely that he would go down into battle wi’ sic sma’ means.’
Glossin extricated himself from the Deacon’s grasp and from the
discussion, though not with rudeness; for it was his present interest to
buy golden opinions from all sorts of people. He inquired the price of
tea and sugar, and spoke of providing himself for the year; he gave Mrs.
Mac-Candlish directions to have a handsome entertainment in readiness for
a party of five friends whom he intended to invite to dine with him at
the Gordon Arms next Saturday week; and, lastly, he gave a half-crown to
Jock Jabos, whom the hostler had deputed to hold his steed.
‘Weel,’ said the Deacon to Mrs. Mac-Candlish, as he accepted her offer of
a glass of bitters at the bar, ‘the deil’s no sae ill as he’s ca’d. It’s
pleasant to see a gentleman pay the regard to the business o’ the county
that Mr. Glossin does.’
‘Ay, ‘deed is’t, Deacon,’ answered the landlady; ‘and yet I wonder our
gentry leave their ain wark to the like o’ him. But as lang as siller’s
current, Deacon, folk maunna look ower nicely at what king’s head’s
on’t.’
‘I doubt Glossin will prove but shand after a’, mistress,’ said Jabos, as
he passed through the little lobby beside the bar; ‘but this is a gude
half-crown ony way.’