Do ye mean to say I'd split on ye, and go round Muirtown saying that
Bailie MacConachie and me had a friendly turn with the gloves! Ye don't
do me justice. Why, there's nobody outside this stable-yard would ever
hear tell of it; and if they did, they would respect ye, and count ye an
able-bodied man, which is more than a Bailie any day. Is it a deal,
Bailie? Ye won't, won't ye, and I ought to be ashamed of myself, ought
I? And a prizefight would be a disgrace to Muirtown, would it? Muirtown
is pretty easy disgraced, then. Who's speaking about a prizefight, ye
haverin' old body? But I see how the wind blows. If the other man stands
a bare five feet, and ye can get at him before he's ready, ye're mighty
handy with yir fists. Ye cowardly old sneak? But when ye're offered the
chance of facing a man about yir own size, ye count it a disgrace. My
opinion is, ye havna the spirit of a mouse in yir body! I'm ashamed to
think ye're a magistrate of Muirtown! Dinna speak to me, MacConachie,
for I might lose control and send ye out of the stable-yard, with my
foot followin'! My advice is to be off as quick as ye can, for if some
of the grooms got hold of ye they would make an awful mess of
ye--they're not just particularly fond of magistrates, and they've a
great notion of Peter.
"One word before we part, Bailie," and the Bailie took that word
walking, "So far as I understand, ye might be arrested for assault, and
I might prosecute ye for damages; but I will let ye off just this once
with a word of solemn advice. Ye're a Bailie of Muirtown, and ye're an
elder in the Kirk, and ye're an Italian warehouse-man; but for all that,
MacConachie, remember ye're just a man. Ye're swollen up and fozzy with
pride and vanity, and ye pace down the streets like an elephant let
loose from a menagerie; but, MacConachie, consider ye're just a man.
Ye're wily and cunning and pawky and long-headed, and ye're got yir own
way in this town for many a year; but lay it to heart, ye're just a man.
Ye've sat on the Bench and laid down the law, and when ye wagged yir
head everybody kept quiet, and when ye've scrapit yir throat they
thought it was Gospel; but, MacConachie, dinna forget it, ye're just a
man. Ye needna hurry," and Mr. McGuffie, standing in the gateway of the
stable-yard, pursued the Bailie along the street with exhortations.
"I've said all I wanted to say, and I've just one word more. Ye've
fought with the Tories and ye've fought with the Publicans, ye've fought
with this body and with that body, and ye've beaten them, and ye thought
ye were cock of the roost in Muirtown; but ye meddled with the laddies,
and they've licket ye once, Bailie, and they've licket ye twice, Bailie,
and if ye dinna cry 'Peace,' they'll lick ye again, and that'll be the
end of ye, Bailie MacConachie."
When Mr. McGuffie returned to the stable-yard he called for his son, and
passed a careful hand over Peter's head, and then he declared that Speug
was a chip of the old block and prophesied aloud that there lay before
him a long and useful life.
THE BAILIE'S DOUBLE
XIV
Muirtown is not a large city, and schoolboys of high principle and
domestic habits used to go home in the dinner-hour and take the meal
with their anxious mothers, who seized the opportunity of repairing the
rents made in their clothes since morning, and giving them good advice
on their behaviour. Thoroughly good boys, who had been tossed to and
fro, much against their will, in the tempest of morning play, were glad
to go into harbour and come back at two o'clock, not only revictualled,
but also re-fitted and re-painted for the troubled voyage of the
afternoon; and boys not so entirely good as the Dowbiggins, and other
models of propriety, still appreciated the home trip, because, although
there might be an embarrassing review of garments, and awkward questions
might be asked about a mark on the face, there was always a toothsome
dainty for a growing laddie, weary with intellectual work and the toils
of a snow-fight. As the business of a horsedealer took Mr. McGuffie
senior in various directions, and as in no case were the arrangements of
his house since Mrs. McGuffie's death of an extremely regular character,
there was no meal to which his promising son--Speug--could return with
any confidence; and therefore Peter did not make a practice of going
home at one o'clock, unless there was a special event at the stables,
such as the arrival of a new horse, in which case he invited a few
friends to an inspection, with light refreshments; or unless, having
racked his brain to the utmost for four hours, he was still in sheer
despair of mischief. With one or two other young friends of a like mind,
he was accustomed to spend the dinner-hour in what might be called
extramural studies--rowing over to the island below the bridge against
the tide and coming back gloriously with the current; assisting the
salmon-fishers to draw their nets and gather the silver spoil; in the
happy snow-time raiding the playground of a rival school when the boys
were away, and leaving insulting remarks wrought in snow; or attending
the drill of the cavalry on the South Meadow. Like other guerillas, he
carried his biltong and mealies with him, and took his meal anywhere and
by preference when on the run. Perhaps that was one reason why Speug in
after years made one of the best of South African fighters.
When Speug was disinclined for active occupation, and desired to
improve his mind by contact with the greater world, he took a cab, or
hotel 'bus (the box-seat of every one in Muirtown was at Speug's
disposal, and his edifying conversation was much enjoyed by the driver),
and went to spend his hour at Muirtown Station, which, as everybody
knows, is at the shooting season a spectacle to be classed with Niagara
or the Jungfrau for interest, and at any time is worth seeing. It
pleased Speug, whose interests were varied and human rather than
classical and literary, to receive the English express, or even one from
Edinburgh, as it swept into the station; or to see the Aberdeen fast
train fairly off; to watch a horse safely entrained, and if necessary to
give understanding assistance; and to pass the time of day with the
guards, ticket-collectors, and carriage-cleaners, the last of whom would
allow him as a favour to see the inside of the huge mail-carriage, with
its pigeon-holes and its ingenious apparatus for delivering letters at
roadside stations while the train passed at full speed. It was an hour
of what might be called irregular study, but one never knows what he may
pick up if he only keeps his eyes open (and the eyes of Speug were as
open as a savage's), and it was on a visit to Muirtown railway station
that Peter found the opportunity for what he ever considered his most
successful achievement at the Seminary, and one on which the
recollection of his companions still fondly dwells.
When a cab passed the _Muirtown Arms_ 'bus at the entrance to the
station, and the cabman signalled to Peter on the box-seat, and referred
to the contents with an excited thumb and great joy on his face, Peter
knew that there would be something worth seeing when the cab emptied at
the ticket-office; but he could not have imagined anything so entirely
satisfying. First, Bailie MacConachie emerged, dressed in the famous
frock-coat and grey trousers, in the high collar and magisterial stock,
but without his usual calm and dignity. His coat was only half buttoned,
his tie was slightly awry, and although his hat had been distinctly
tilted to the side on getting out of the cab, he was too much occupied
to set it right. Instead of clearing his throat as he alighted among the
waiting porters, and giving them, as it were, the chance of honouring a
live Bailie going forth upon his journey, he did not seem to wish for
any public reception, or, indeed, for any spectators, and in fact had
every sign of a man who desired to be _incognito_.
"No, no, I've no luggage to-day," the Bailie hastily explained to an
obliging porter, and he stood between the man and the cab so as to block
all vision. "Just running down to Dundee on business and ... seeing a
friend off."
As the embarrassed magistrate endeavoured to disperse the porters, the
driver, leaning over the roof of the cab, winked with much unction to
Peter, and indicated to that ingenuous youth that it would be worth
while for him to wait and see the mysterious friend. Speug, in fact,
understood from all this telegraphic communication that there were going
to be circumstances of a quite remarkable character, and in which
he--Peter McGuffie--was expected to be personally interested. He dragged
Jock Howieson, who was spending the hour with him, behind a pile of
luggage, and from their hiding-place they saw, to their utter amazement,
a second Bailie come slowly and gingerly, but yet withal triumphantly,
out of the cab. The same height as the great man himself, and built
after the same pattern; a perfect reproduction also in dress, except
that the trousers were baggier, and the coat shabbier, and the collar
frayed at the edges, and the hat had the appearance of having been used
either as a seat or as a pillow, or perhaps for both purposes, at
different times; and the air of this second, but by no means ghostly,
Bailie was like that of the first, as confident, as mighty, as knowing,
with the addition of a certain joviality of expression and benignant
humanity, and a certain indifference to all the trials and difficulties
of life which is characteristic of a man who has been "tasting," not
wisely, but too well.
"Lean on me, James," said the Bailie, nervously, as the figure came with
a heavy lurch on the pavement. "The faintness may pass off. Take care
of your feet," and the Bailie shouldered his double to the ticket-office
and propped it against the wall while he went to take the tickets.
It might have been ill, and the remarkable walk might have been due to
weakness of the heart, for you never can tell, and one ought to be
charitable; but there was no sign of an invalid about this new Bailie,
nor was he at all too exhausted for genial conversation. He explained
during the other Bailie's brief absence, to all who were willing to
listen, in a style that was rather suggestive than exhaustive, that he
had been paying a visit to Muirtown for the good of his health, and that
he felt better--in fact, very much better; that where he lived the
supply of liquid refreshment was limited, and that in consequence he had
suffered through weakness of the heart; that he had intended to stay
longer in a place where there was every comfort of life, and that
nothing would have induced him to leave but the immoral conduct of his
twin brother; that Bailie MacConachie, he was sorry to say, being his
brother, was fearfully given to drink, and that he, James MacConachie,
could no longer stay with him; that he, his brother, was not fit to be a
Bailie, and that he was a hypocrite whose judgment would not tarry, and
indeed, according to his language, was already pronounced. He also gave
a certificate of character to the refreshment to be obtained at the
_Black Bull_, Muirtown, and cheerfully invited any person who had a
friendly heart to go with him there and then to drink the Queen's
health. On seeing his brother returning, the figure concluded his
address--which had been mightily enjoyed by three porters, a couple of
Highland drovers, a Perth loafer, who had once passed through the
police-court when the Bailie was on the Bench, and an elderly lady, who
was anxious that a doctor should be sent for--by explaining once more
that his brother was a gentleman beside whom the Pharisees were
straightforward and honourable members of society.
As the procession was again re-formed, and the two Bailies left the
ticket-office together, one of them waving a regretful farewell to his
sympathetic congregation, the boys executed a war-dance of triumph; for
the contrast between the twin brethren afforded just that kind of comedy
which appeals to a boy's heart, and because they had an instinct that
the incident would be of service in the war between the Bailie and the
Seminary, which had gone on for a year and showed no signs of closing.
"The Bailie keeps him oot o' sight somewhere in the country, I'll
warrant," said Speug to Jock, in great spirits, "and there's naebody in
Muirtown kens he's got a twin brother. Dod, Jock, he's juist the very
eemage of him, and he's got a suit o' his auld clothes on. It would
take Dr. Manley himself or the Chief Constable to tell the one from the
ither. Jock Howieson, if you and me could get the use o' that lad, we
would have a michty time. I would give my four rabbits and ... and my
skye terrier pup just for an hour of him." And although they had no hope
that circumstances would deal so kindly with them, yet they went on to
the platform to see the last of the two Bailies.
Under the influence of the senior Bailie's chastening conversation, who
at first reminded his brother of a drunkard's end, which had no effect,
and then threatened to cut off his modest weekly allowance, which had an
immediate effect, the figure consented to be taken along the platform,
and might even have been safely deposited in its carriage, had not the
word "Refreshment-room," printed in absurdly large type, attracted his
attention.
"Div ye see that, man?" said the figure, pointing jubilantly to the
board. "I declare it juist a Providence. It's no that I'm thirsty,
Bailie, and I canna bear drinkin'; that's never been a fault o' mine,
though I doubt ye're fallin' into the habit yirsel'. No, I'm no thirsty,
but I've a sinkin' at the heart. Ye'll come in, and we'll taste together
afore we part. I forgive ye onything ye said. I bear no grudge, and I'll
let ye pay, Bailie." And the figure had the Bailie almost at the door of
the refreshment-room before he could make a stand.
"Mair than I can carry already, Bailie, did ye say? Gude forgie ye. I
wonder ye're not black ashamed to say sic a word, and me draggin' ye
along the platform and holdin' ye up, juist to cover yir character.
Well, well, I canna fecht wi' ye, for I'm no the man I was once. The
fact is, I havna strength to go another step, and if ye'll no let me get
a cordial, I'll juist have to sit down on the platform." And the
horrified Bailie had to accept the assistance of a porter to support his
exhausted brother and to guide him to his carriage.
From an adjacent third class compartment, where Speug and Jock promptly
secreted themselves, they heard the senior Bailie's exhortation to his
frail kinsman--that he must on no account come out of the carriage; that
he must hold his tongue and not talk nonsense to his fellow travellers;
that he must not mention his--the Bailie's--name, nor claim to be
connected with him; and that he must not come back to Muirtown again
until the Bailie sent for him; and all this he must lay to heart as he
valued his weekly allowance. The Bailie also expressed his deep regret,
which, indeed, seemed to be very sincere, that he had to leave by the
Dundee train before the departure of the slow Fife train by which his
double travelled. And when this fact emerged--that the other Bailie was
to be left even for five minutes at their disposal--Speug threw
Howieson's bonnet to the end of the compartment, with his own following
in a rapture of joy.
"Dinna be afraid," said the figure in the compartment to the Bailie on
the platform, who was torn between his profitable business engagement at
Dundee and the fear of leaving his brother to his own devices. "After
the way ye've treated me and put me to shame afore the platform, I
wouldna stay another day in Muirtown for a thousand pounds. I am no
angry, Bailie," the figure continued with mournful dignity, "for that's
no my speerit, but I'm hurt at yir conduct. Weel, if ye maun go, ye
maun, and I heard the Dundee engine whistlin'; but for ony sake dinna be
tastin' in Dundee and disgracin' the family. Drink is an awfu' failin',
but ye canna say I havna warned ye." And as the Bailie hurried to catch
the Dundee train the figure shook its head mournfully, with the air of
one who hopes for the best, but who has had too good reason to expect
the worst.
"Bailie," said Speug, presenting himself with a fine mixture of haste
and importance before the figure which was still moralising to itself on
the evils of drink, "div ye no mind that the Rector o' the Seminary is
expectin' ye to address the laddies this afternoon, and they'll be
waitin' this very meenut in the Latin class-room?" and Speug made signs
that he should come at once, and offered to secure a cab. The figure
could only shake its head and explain that on account of the
disgraceful conduct of a relative, who had given way to drink, it had no
heart for public appearances; but the idea of a return to the enjoyment
of Muirtown was evidently filtering in.
"Are ye no Bailie MacConachie?" demanded Speug. "A porter threipit
(insisted) that he had seen the Bailie in the Dundee train, but naebody
can mistake Bailie MacConachie. The school will be terrible pleased to
see ye, Bailie."
"Who said I wasna Bailie MacConachie?" and the figure was plainly
roused. "Him in the Dundee train? Laddies, there's a black sheep in
every family, and that man is a poor, helpless brother o' mine that's
taken to bad habits, and I've juist to support him and keep him oot o'
sicht. It's an awfu' trial," and the figure wept, but immediately
brisked itself up again. "Of course I'm Bailie MacConachie. Laddies,
was't at the _Black Bull_ they're expectin' me?"
"The very place, Bailie; but ye maun say juist a word at the Seminary in
passin'," and Speug signalled to a ticket-collector who had just come
upon the scene.
"Would ye mind helpin' Bailie MacConachie oot o' the carriage, for he's
forgotten an engagement at the Seminary, and he's juist a wee thingie
faint with the heat?"
"It's no the heat, man," as the amazed collector helped the magistrate
on to the platform, "it's family trouble. Are ye connected with the
_Black Bull_? Well, at any rate, ye seem a well-behaved young man, and
these are twa fine laddies." And outside the station, surrounded by a
sympathising circle of drivers, who were entering into the spirit of
Speug's campaign, this astonishing Bailie warned every one to beware of
strong drink, and urged them to take the pledge without delay. He also
inquired anxiously whether there was a cab there from the _Black Bull_
and explained that the Rector of the Seminary, with his laddies, was
waiting for him in that place of hospitality. He added that he had been
on his way to the General Assembly of the Kirk, where he sat as a ruling
elder, and he warmly denounced the spread of false doctrine. But at last
they got him into the cab, where, after a pathetic appeal to Speug and
his companion to learn the Catechism and sing the Psalms of David, he
fell fast asleep.
By a happy stroke of strategy, Howieson engaged the attention of the
sergeant in the back-yard, who considered that Jock was playing truant
and was anxious to arrest him, while the cabman, fortunately an
able-bodied fellow, with Speug's assistance induced the Bailie to leave
the cab and convoyed him upstairs and to the door of the Rector's
class-room. At this point the great man fell into low spirits, and
bemoaned the failure of a strenuous life, in which he had vainly fought
the immorality of Muirtown, and declared, unless he obtained an
immediate tonic, he would succumb to a broken heart. He also charged
Speug with treachery in having brought him to the County Gaol instead of
to the _Black Bull_. It was painfully explained him that he was now in
the Seminary, and within that door an anxious school was waiting for
him--Bailie MacConachie--and his address.
"Who said I wasna Bailie MacConachie, and that I was a drunken body?
I'll teach them to smuggle me oot o' Muirtown as if I was a waufie
(disreputable character). He thinks I'm at Leuchars, but I'm here" (with
much triumph), "and I'm Bailie MacConachie" (with much dignity). And the
Bailie was evidently full awake.
"Losh keeps, laddies, what am I saying? Family troubles shakes the mind.
Take the pledge when ye're young, laddie, and ye'll no regret it when
ye're old. I've been an abstainer since the age of ten. Noo, laddie"
(with much cunning), "If I am to address the school, what think ye would
be a fine subject, apairt from the Catechism? for it's a responsibility,
especially me being a Bailie. If ye can mind onything, laddie, I'll give
ye sixpence next time we meet."
Although Speug was reticent in the class, for reasons that commended
themselves to his practical judgment, he had a rich wealth of speech
upon occasion, and he fairly drilled into the head of Bailie
MacConachie's double that it had been a very foolish thing for him--the
Bailie--to quarrel with the Seminary about their playground upon the
Meadow, and an act of an unchristian bitterness to strike him--the
Speug--upon the head and nearly injure him for life, but that he--the
Bailie--was sorry for all his bad conduct, and that he would never do
the like again as long as he was Bailie of Muirtown; and Speug
concluded, while the cabman stood open-mouthed with admiration, "Ye
micht juist say that ye have an awfu' respect for me--Speug--ye know."
"I'll be sure to do that," said the delighted Bailie, "for it's a fact.
Ye're a fine laddie and have a fearsome power o' the gab (mouth); I
expect to see ye in the pulpit yet; but keeps a' it's time I was at the
_Black Bull_, so ye micht juist slip in and tell the Rector I'm at the
door--Bailie MacConachie of Muirtown."
Had it been the class-room of Bulldog, master of mathematics,
arithmetic, and writing, and, it might also be added, master of
discipline, Speug would as soon have ventured into his presence on such
an errand as into the lion's den of the travelling menagerie which had
recently visited Muirtown, and at which he had spent many an unlicensed
hour. But the Rector was that dear delight of boys, a short-sighted,
absent-minded, unsuspicious scholar, who lived in a world of his own
with Homer and Horace, and could only be fairly roused (to sorrow) by a
false quantity or (to joy) by a happy translation.
Muirtown Seminary had an inexhaustible confidence in Speug's genius for
mischief and effrontery of manner, but the Rector's class sat breathless
when Peter came in with an unshaken countenance, and politely intimated
to the Rector that a magistrate of Muirtown had come and desired to
speak to the school. Before the Rector could fairly withdraw himself
from a cunning phrase of Horace's, or the school had energy to cheer,
the wonderful Bailie was launched into the room with almost too much
vigour by the cabman, who remained in the shadow and whispered a last
direction to "hold up your head and keep to the right." They had
forgotten--Speug's only oversight--to take off the Bailie's hat, which
was set jauntily on the side of his head, and the course which he took
through the room was devious, and mainly regulated by the furniture,
while his expression was a fine blend of affable dignity and genial good
humour. "Gosh!" exclaimed Bauldie, and he liberated the feeling of the
class, who understood that their enemy had been delivered into their
hands, and that Peter McGuffie--their own Speug--had been the means
thereof. Yet could it be the case? Yes! It was the very countenance,
line by line, and the very clothes, piece by piece, though looking a
trifle shabby, of the premier Bailie of Muirtown, and it was evident
that he had been "tasting," and that very freely.
"I am--er--proud to bid you welcome, Mr. Bailie," said the Rector,
bowing with old-fashioned courtesy, and not having the faintest idea
what like was the figure before him. "We are always delighted to receive
a visit from any of the magistrates of the city, who are to our humble
school" (and here the Rector was very gracious) "what Maecenas was to
Horace, whose _curiosa felicitas_ we are now studying. Is it your
pleasure, Mr. Bailie, to examine the school?"
During this stately reception the Bailie came to rest upon a desk, and
regarded the Rector's flowing gown with unconcealed admiration, which he
indicated to the school by frank gestures.