The tertians gave a supper at Luckie Cumstie's, and invited the
magistrands. On such an occasion Beauchamp, with his high sense of his
own social qualities, would not willingly be absent. When the hour
arrived, he took his place near the head of the table.
After all the solid and a part of the liquid entertainment was over,
Alec rose in the space between two toasts, and said:
"Mr Chairman and gentlemen, I propose, at my own proper cost, to
provide something for your amusement."
Beauchamp and all stared at the speaker.
"It is to be regretted," Alec went on, "that students have no court of
honour to which to appeal. This is the first opportunity I have had of
throwing myself on the generosity of my equals, and asking them to
listen to my story."
The interest of the company was already roused. All the heads about the
long table leaned towards the speaker, and cries of _hear, hear_, arose
in all directions. Alec then gave a brief statement of the facts of the
encounter upon the bridge. This was the only part of his relations with
Beauchamp which he chose to bring before the public; for the greater
wrong of lying defamation involved his cousin's name. He told how
Beauchamp had sought the encounter by deliberate insult, had used a
weapon against an unarmed enemy, and then thrown him from the bridge.
"Now," he concluded, "all I ask of you, gentlemen, is to allow me the
fair arena of your presence while I give this sneaking chieftain the
personal chastisement which he has so richly merited at my hands."
Beauchamp had soon recovered his self-possession after the first
surprise of the attack. He sat drinking his toddy all the time Alec
spoke, and in the middle of his speech he mixed himself another
tumbler. When Alec sat down, he rose, glanced round the assembly, bent
his lip into its most scornful curves, and, in a clear, unwavering
voice, said:
"Mr Chairman and gentlemen, I repel the accusation."
Alec started to his feet in wrath.
"Mr Forbes, sit down," bawled the chairman; and Alec obeyed, though
with evident reluctance.
"I say the accusation is false," repeated Beauchamp. "I do not say that
Mr Forbes consciously invented the calumny in order to take away my
character: such an assertion would preclude its own credence. Nor do I
venture to affirm that he never was stabbed, or thrown into the river.
But I ask any gentleman who happens to be aware of Mr Forbes's
devotions at the shrine of Father Lyaeus, which is the more
likely--that a fellow-student should stab and throw him into the water,
or that, as he was reeling home at midnight, the treacherous divinity
of the bowl should have handed him over to the embrace of his brother
deity of the river. Why then should even his imagination fix upon me as
the source of the injury? Gentlemen, a foolish attachment to the
customs of a long line of ancestors has led me into what I find for the
first time to be a dangerous habit--that of wearing arms;--dangerous, I
mean, to myself; for now I am wounded with my own weapon. But the real
secret of the affair is--I am ashamed to say--jealousy. Mr Forbes knows
what I say to be true--that a lady whom he loves prefers me to him."
"Don't bring her name in, you brute!" roared Alec, starting again to
his feet, "or I'll tear your tongue out."
"You hear, gentlemen," said Beauchamp, and sat down.
A murmur arose. Heads gathered into groups. No one stood up. Alec felt
with the deepest mortification that his adversary's coolness and his
own violence had turned the scale against him. This conviction,
conjoined with the embarrassment of not knowing how to say a word in
his own defence without taking some notice of the close of his
adversary's speech, fixed him to his seat. For he had not yet fallen so
low as to be capable of even alluding to the woman he loved in such an
assembly. He would rather abandon the field to his adversary.
Probably not many seconds had passed, but his situation was becoming
intolerable, when a well-known voice rose clear above the confused
murmur; and glancing to the lower end of the room, he saw Cosmo Cupples
standing at the end of the table.
"I ken weel eneuch, gentlemen," he said, "that I hae no richt to be
here. Ye a' ken me by the sicht o' the een. I'm a graduate o' this
university, and at present your humble servant the librarian. I intrude
for the sake o' justice, and I cast mysel' upo' your clemency for a
fair hearin'."
This being accorded by general acclamation,
"Gentlemen," he resumed, "I stan' afore ye wi' a sair hert. I hae
occupied the position o' tutor to Mr Forbes; for, as Sir Pheelip Sidney
says in a letter to his brither Rob, wha was efterwards Yerl o'
Leicester upo' the demise o' Robert Dudley, 'Ye may get wiser men nor
yersel' to converse wi' ye and instruck ye, in ane o' twa ways--by
muckle ootlay or muckle humility.' Noo, that laddie was ane o' the
finest naturs I ever cam' across, and his humility jist made it a
pleesur to tak' chairge o' 'm baith mentally and morally. That I had a
sair doon come whan he took to the drink, I am forced to confess. But I
aye thocht he was strauchtforet, notwithstandin' the whusky. I wasna
prepared for sic a doonfa' as this.--I maun jist confess, Mr Cheerman,
that I heard him throu' the crack o' the door-cheek. And he broucht sic
deevilich accusations--"
"Mr Cupples!" cried Alec.
"Haud yer tongue, Alec Forbes, and lat this company hear me. Ye
appealed to the company yersel' first o' a'.--I say hoo cud he bring
sic deevilich accusations against a gentleman o' sic birth and breedin'
and accomplishments as the Laird o' Chattachan!--Maybe the Laird wad
jist condescend to say whaur he was upo' the nicht in queston; for gin
we cud get the rampaugin' misguidit laddie ance fairly into the yard,
wi' the yetts steekit (gates closed), he wad see that leein' wadna
serve his turn."
Alec was in chaotic confusion. Notwithstanding the hard words Mr
Cupples had used, he could ill believe that he had turned his enemy. He
had behaved very badly to Mr Cupples, but was Mr Cupples one to revenge
himself?
Mr Cupples had paused with his eyes resting on Beauchamp. He, without
rising, replied carelessly:
"Really, sir, I do not keep a register of my goings and comings. I
might have done so had I known its importance. I have not even been
informed when the occurrence is said to have taken place."
"I can gie your memory a prod upo' the dates, sir. For I ken weel the
nicht whan Alec Forbes cam' hame wi' a lang and a deep cut upo' the
ootside o' 's left airm atween the shouther an' the elbuck. I may weel
remember 't to my grief; for though he cam' hame as sober as he was
drippin' weet--I hae oor guidwife's testimony to that--he gaed oot
again, and whan he cam' hame ance mair, he was the waur o' drink for
the first time sin' ever I kent him. Noo, sir, it a' took place the
same day that ye cam' to the leebrary, and tuik awa' wi' ye a novell
ca'd _Aiken Drum_. I tauld ye it wad ill repay ye, for it was but a
fule thing. And I remember 't the better that I was expeckin' Alec
Forbes in ilka minute, and I was feared for a collieshangie (outbreak)
atween ye."
"I remember all about that night perfectly, now you call it to my
recollection. I went straight home, and did not go out again--I was so
taken up with _Aiken Drum_."
"I tell't ye sae!" cried Cupples, triumphantly. "Wha wadna tak' the
word o' The MacChattachan? There's sma' profit in addin' my testimony
to the weight o' that; but I wad jist like to tell this company, Mr
Cheerman and gentlemen, hoo I cam' to ken mair aboot the affair nor my
frien' Alec Forbes is awar' o'. That same efternoon, I expeckit him i'
the leebrary as I hae said, and whan he didna come, I took my hat--that
was about a half-hoor efter the laird left me--and gaed oot to luik for
him. I gaed ower the links; for my man had the profitless habit at that
time, whilk he's gien up for a mair profitless still, o' stravaguin'
aboot upo' the seashore, wi' 's han's in 's pooches, and his chin
reposin' upo' the third button o' 's waistcoat--all which bears hard
upo' what the laird says aboot's jealousy. The mune was jist risin' by
the time I wan to the shore, but I saw no sign o' man or woman alang
that dreary coast. I was jist turnin' to come hame again, whan I cam'
upo' tracks i' the weet san'. And I kent the prent o' the fit, and I
followed it on to the links again, and sae I gaed back at my leisure.
And it was sic a bonny nicht, though the mune wasna that far up,
drivin' lang shaidows afore her, that I thocht I wad jist gang ance
ower the brig and back again, and syne maybe turn into Luckie Cumstie's
here. But afore I wan to the brig, whan I was i' the shaidow o' Baillie
Bapp's hoose, I heard sic a scushlin' and a shochlin' upo' the brig!
and I saw something gang reelin' aboot; and afore I cud gaither my wits
and rin foret, I heard an awfu' splash i' the water; and by gangs
somebody wi' lang quaiet strides, and never saw me. He had on the kilts
and the lave o' the fandangles. And he turned into the quadrangle, and
throu't he gaed and oot at the corner o' 't. I was close ahint
him--that is, I was into the quadrangle afore he was oot o' 't. And I
saw the sacrist come oot at the door o' the astronomical tooer jist
afore the Hielanman turned the neuk o' 't. And I said to Thomson, says
I, 'Wha was that gaed by ye, and oot the back gait?' And says he, 'It
was Maister Beauchamp.' 'Are ye sure o' that?' says I. 'As sure's
deith,' says he. Ye ken William's phrase, gentlemen."
Beauchamp's nonchalance had disappeared for some time. When his own
name came out, his cheeks grew deathly pale, and thin from the falling
of his jaw. Cupples, watching him, went on.
"As sune's I was sure o' my man, I saw what a damned idiot I was to rin
efter him. And back I flew to the brig. I kent full weel wha the ither
man bude to be. It could be nane but my ain Alec Forbes; for I sweir to
ye, gentlemen, I hae watched The MacChattachan watchin' Alec Forbes
mair nor twa or three times sin' Alec throosh him for bein' foul-mou'd
i' the face o' the deid."
By this time Beauchamp, having swallowed the rest of his tumbler at a
gulp, had recovered a little. He rose with defiance on his face.
"Dinna lat him gang, gentlemen," cried Cupples, "till I tell ye ae
ither God's trowth.--I ran back to the brig, as hard's my legs cud
carry me, consolin' mysel' wi' the reflection that gin Alec had na been
sair hurtit i' the scuffle, there was no fear o' him. For I heard him
fa' clean into the water, and I kent ye micht as sune droon a herrin as
Alec Forbes. I ran richt to the mids' o' the brig and there was the
black heid o' him bobbin' awa' doon the water i' the hert o' the
munelicht. I'm terrible lang-sichtit, gentlemen. I canna sweir that I
saw the face o' 'm, seein' the back o' 's heid was to me; but that it
was Alec Forbes, I hae no more doobt than o' my ain existence. I was
jist turnin', nearhan' the greetin', for I lo'ed the laddie weel, whan
I saw something glintin' bonnie upo' the parapet o' the brig. And noo I
beg to restore't till'ts richtful owner. Wad ye pass't up the table,
gentlemen. Some o' ye will recogneeze't as ane o' the laird's bonnie
cairngorum-buttons."
Handing the button to the man nearest him, Mr Cupples withdrew into a
corner, and leaned his back against the wall. The button made many a
zigzag from side to side of the table, but Beauchamp saw the yellow
gleam of it coming nearer and nearer. It seemed to fascinate him. At
last bursting the bonds of dismay, the blood rushed into his pale face,
and he again moved to go:
"A conspiracy, gentlemen!" he cried. "You are all against me. I will
not trouble you longer with my presence. I will bide my time."
"Stop a moment, Mr Beauchamp," said the chairman--the pale-faced son of
a burly ploughman--rising. "Your departure will scarcely satisfy us
now. Gentlemen, form yourselves in a double row, and grace the exit of
a disgrace. I leave it to yourselves to kick him or not as you may
think proper. But I think myself the way is to be merciful to the
confounded. Better leave him to his own conscience."
Beauchamp's hand, following its foolish habit, fell upon the hilt of
his dirk.
"Draw that dirk one inch," said the chairman hastily, clenching his
fist, "and I'll have you thrown on Luckie Cumstie's midden."
Beauchamp's hand dropped. The men formed as directed.
"Now," said the chairman sternly.
And Beauchamp without a word marched down the long avenue white as a
ghost, and looking at nobody. Each made him a low bow as he passed,
except the wag of the tertians, who turned his back on him and bowed to
the universe in general. Mr Cupples was next the door, and bowed him
out. Alec alone stood erect. He could not insult him.
Beauchamp's feelings I do not care to analyze. As he passes from that
room, he passes from my history.--I do not think a man with such an
unfavourable start, could arrive at the goal of repentance in this
life.
"Mr Cupples," cried the chairman, "will you oblige us by spending the
rest of the evening with us?"
"You do me mair honour nor I deserve, sir," replied Mr Cupples; "but
that villain Alec Forbes has cost me sae muckle in drink to haud my
hert up, that I winna drink in his company. I micht tak' ower muckle
and disgrace mysel' forbye. Good nicht to ye a', gentlemen, and my best
thanks."
So saying, Mr Cupples left the room before Alec could get near him with
a word or a sign of gratitude. But sorry and ashamed as he was, his
spirits soon returned. Congratulation restored him to his worse self;
and ere long he felt that he had deserved well of the community. The
hostess turned him out with the last few at midnight, for one of the
professors was provost; and he went homewards with another student, who
also lived in the new town.
The two, however, not having had enough of revelry yet, turned aside
into a lane, and thence up a court leading to a low public-house, which
had a second and worse reputation. Into this Alec's companion went.
Alec followed. But he was suddenly seized in the dark, and ejected with
violence. Recovering himself from his backward stagger into the court,
he raised his arm to strike. Before him stood a little man, who had
apparently followed him out of the public-house. His hands were in the
pockets of his trowsers, and the wind was blowing about the tails of
his old dress-coat.
Nor was Alec too far gone to recognize him.
"You, Mr Cupples!" he exclaimed. "I didna expect to see you here."
"I never was across the door-sill o' sic a place afore," said Mr
Cupples, "nor, please God, will either you or me ever cross sic a
door-sill again."
"Hooly, hooly, Mr Cupples! Speak for ane at a time. I'm gaein in this
minute. Luckie Cumstie turned on the caller air ower sune for me."
"Man!" said Cupples, laying hold of Alec's coat, "think that ye hae a
mither. Ilka word that ye hear frae a worthless woman is an affront to
yer mither."
"Dinna stan' preachin' to me. I'm past that."
"Alec, ye'll wiss to God ye hadna, whan ye come to marry a bonnie
wife."
It was a true but ill-timed argument. Alec flared up wildly.
"Wife!" he cried, "there's no wife for me. Haud oot o' my gait. Dinna
ye see I hae been drinkin'? And I winna be contred."
"Drinkin'!" exclaimed Mr Cupples. "Little ye ken aboot drinkin'. I hae
drunken three times as muckle as you. And gin that be ony argument for
me haudin' oot o' your gait, it's mair argument yet for you to haud oot
o' mine. I sweir to God I winna stan' this ony langer. Ye're to come
hame wi' me frae this mou' o' hell and ugsome (frightful) deith. It
gangs straucht to the everlastin' burnin's. Eh, man! to think nae mair
o' women nor _that_!"
And the brave little man placed himself right between Alec and the
door, which now opened half-way, showing several peering and laughing
faces.
But the opposition of Mr Cupples had increased the action of the
alcohol upon Alec's brain, and he blazed up in a fury at the notion of
being made a laughter to the women. He took one step towards Mr
Cupples, who had restored his hands to his pockets and backed a few
paces towards the door of the house, to guard against Alec's passing
him.
"Haud oot o' my gait, or I'll gar ye," he said fiercely.
"I will not," answered Mr Cupples, and lay senseless on the stones of
the court.
Alec strode into the house, and the door closed behind him.
By slow degrees Mr Cupples came to himself. He was half dead with cold,
and his head was aching frightfully. A pool of blood lay on the stones
already frozen. He crawled on his hands and knees, till he reached a
wall, by which he raised and steadied himself. Feeling along this wall,
he got into the street; but he was so confused and benumbed that if a
watchman had not come up, he would have died on some doorstep. The man
knew him and got him home. He allowed both him and his landlady to
suppose that his condition was the consequence of drink; and so was
helped up to his garret and put to bed.