'I wish to Heaven she had, with him in her!' ejaculated Glossin.

'Why, I was so angry myself that, sapperment! I did give him a tip
over the side; but split him! the comical little devil swam like a
duck; so I made him swim astern for a mile to teach him manners,
and then took him in when he was sinking. By the knocking Nicholas
I he'll plague you, now he's come over the herring-pond! When he
was so high he had the spirit of thunder and lightning.'

'How did he get back from India?'

'Why, how should I know? The house there was done up; and that
gave us a shake at Middleburgh, I think; so they sent me again to
see what could be done among my old acquaintances here, for we
held old stories were done away and forgotten. So I had got a
pretty trade on foot within the last two trips; but that stupid
hounds-foot schelm, Brown, has knocked it on the head again, I
suppose, with getting himself shot by the colonel-man.'

'Why were not you with them?'

'Why, you see, sapperment! I fear nothing; but it was too far
within land, and I might have been scented.'

'True. But to return to this youngster--'

'Ay, ay, donner and blitzen! HE'S your affair,' said the Captain.

'How do you really know that he is in this country?'

'Why, Gabriel saw him up among the hills.'

'Gabriel! who is he?'

'A fellow from the gipsies, that, about eighteen years since, was
pressed on board that d--d fellow Pritchard's sloop-of-war. It was
he came off and gave us warning that the Shark was coming round
upon us the day Kennedy was done; and he told us how Kennedy had
given the information. The gipsies and Kennedy had some quarrel
besides. This Gab went to the East Indies in the same ship with
your younker, and, sapperment! knew him well, though the other did
not remember him. Gab kept out of his eye though, as he had served
the States against England, and was a deserter to boot; and he
sent us word directly, that we might know of his being here,
though it does not concern us a rope's end.'

'So, then, really, and in sober earnest, he is actually in this
country, Hatteraick, between friend and friend?' asked Glossin,
seriously.

'Wetter and donner, yaw! What do you take me for?'

'For a bloodthirsty, fearless miscreant!' thought Glossin
internally; but said aloud, 'And which of your people was it that
shot young Hazlewood?'

'Sturmwetter!' said the Captain, 'do ye think we were mad? none of
US, man. Gott! the country was too hot for the trade already with
that d-d frolic of Brown's, attacking what you call Woodbourne
House.'

'Why, I am told,' said Glossin, 'it was Brown who shot Hazlewood?'

'Not our lieutenant, I promise you; for he was laid six feet deep
at Derncleugh the day before the thing happened. Tausend deyvils,
man! do ye think that he could rise out of the earth to shoot
another man?'

A light here began to break upon Glossin's confusion of ideas.
'Did you not say that the younker, as you call him, goes by the
name of Brown?'

'Of Brown? yaw; Vanbeest Brown. Old Vanbeest Brown, of our
Vanbeest and Vanbruggen, gave him his own name, he did.'

'Then,' said Glossin, rubbing his hands, 'it is he, by Heaven, who
has committed this crime!'

'And what have we to do with that?' demanded Hatteraick.

Glossin paused, and, fertile in expedients, hastily ran over his
project in his own mind, and then drew near the smuggler with a
confidential air. 'You know, my dear Hatteraick, it is our
principal business to get rid of this young man?'

'Umph!' answered Dirk Hatteraick.

'Not,' continued Glossin--'not that I would wish any personal harm
to him--if--if--if we can do without. Now, he is liable to be
seized upon by justice, both as bearing the same name with your
lieutenant, who was engaged in that affair at Woodbourne, and for
firing at young Hazlewood with intent to kill or wound.'

'Ay, ay,' said Dirk Hatteraick; 'but what good will that do you?
He'll be loose again as soon as he shows himself to carry other
colours.'

'True, my dear Dirk; well noticed, my friend Hatteraick! But there
is ground enough for a temporary imprisonment till he fetch his
proofs from England or elsewhere, my good friend. I understand the
law, Captain Hatteraick, and I'll take it upon me, simple Gilbert
Glossin of Ellangowan, justice of peace for the county of---, to
refuse his bail, if he should offer the best in the country, until
he is brought up for a second examination; now where d'ye think
I'll incarcerate him?'

'Hagel and wetter! what do I care?'

'Stay, my friend; you do care a great deal. Do you know your goods
that were seized and carried to Woodbourne are now lying in the
custom-house at Portanferry? (a small fishing-town). Now I will
commit this younker--'

'When you have caught him.'

'Ay, ay, when I have caught him; I shall not be long about that. I
will commit him to the workhouse, or bridewell, which you know is
beside the custom-house.'

'Yaw, the rasp-house; I know it very well.'

'I will take care that the redcoats are dispersed through the
country; you land at night with the crew of your lugger, receive
your own goods, and carry the younker Brown with you back to
Flushing. Won't that do?'

'Ay, carry him to Flushing,' said the Captain, 'or--to America?'

'Ay, ay, my friend.'

'Or--to Jericho?'

'Psha! Wherever you have a mind.'

'Ay, or--pitch him overboard?'

'Nay, I advise no violence.'

'Nein, nein; you leave that to me. Sturmwetter! I know you of old.
But, hark ye, what am I, Dirk Hatteraick, to be the better of
this?'

'Why, is it not your interest as well as mine?' said Glossin;
'besides, I set you free this morning.'

'YOU set me free! Donner and deyvil! I set myself free. Besides,
it was all in the way of your profession, and happened a long time
ago, ha, ha, ha!'

'Pshaw! pshaw! don't let us jest; I am not against making a
handsome compliment; but it's your affair as well as mine.'

'What do you talk of my affair? is it not you that keep the
younker's whole estate from him? Dirk Hatteraick never touched a
stiver of his rents.'

'Hush! hush! I tell you it shall be a joint business.'

'Why, will ye give me half the kitt?'

'What, half the estate? D'ye mean we should set up house together
at Ellangowan, and take the barony ridge about?'

'Sturmwetter, no! but you might give me half the value--half the
gelt. Live with you? nein. I would have a lusthaus of mine own on
the Middleburgh dyke, and a blumengarten like a burgomaster's.'

'Ay, and a wooden lion at the door, and a painted sentinel in the
garden, with a pipe in his mouth! But, hark ye, Hatteraick, what
will all the tulips and flower-gardens and pleasure-houses in the
Netherlands do for you if you are hanged here in Scotland?'

Hatteraick's countenance fell. 'Der deyvil! hanged!'

'Ay, hanged, mein Herr Captain. The devil can scarce save Dirk
Hatteraick from being hanged for a murderer and kidnapper if the
younker of Ellangowan should settle in this country, and if the
gallant Captain chances to be caught here reestablishing his fair
trade! And I won't say but, as peace is now so much talked of,
their High Mightinesses may not hand him over to oblige their new
allies, even if he remained in faderland.'

'Poz hagel, blitzen, and donner! I--I doubt you say true.'

'Not,' said Glossin, perceiving he had made the desired
impression, 'not that I am against being civil'; and he slid into
Hatteraick's passive hand a bank-note of some value.

'Is this all?' said the smuggler. 'You had the price of half a
cargo for winking at our job, and made us do your business too.'

'But, my good friend, you forget: In this case you will recover
all your own goods.'

'Ay, at the risk of all our own necks; we could do that without
you.'

'I doubt that, Captain Hatteraick,' said Glossin, drily; 'because
you would probably find a 'dozen' redcoats at the custom-house,
whom it must be my business, if we agree about this matter, to
have removed. Come, come, I will be as liberal as I can, but you
should have a conscience.'

'Now strafe mich der deyfel! this provokes me more than all the
rest! You rob and you murder, and you want me to rob and murder,
and play the silver-cooper, or kidnapper, as you call it, a dozen
times over, and then, hagel and windsturm! you speak to me of
conscience! Can you think of no fairer way of getting rid of this
unlucky lad?'

'No, mein Herr; but as I commit him to your charge-'

'To my charge! to the charge of steel and gunpowder! and--well, if
it must be, it must; but you have a tolerably good guess what's
like to come of it.'

'O, my dear friend, I trust no degree of severity will be
necessary,' replied Glossin.

'Severity!' said the fellow, with a kind of groan, 'I wish you had
had my dreams when I first came to this dog-hole, and tried to
sleep among the dry seaweed. First, there was that d-d fellow
there, with his broken back, sprawling as he did when I hurled the
rock over a-top on him, ha, ha! You would have sworn he was lying
on the floor where you stand, wriggling like a crushed frog, and
then--'

'Nay, my friend,' said Glossin, interrupting him, 'what signifies
going over this nonsense? If you are turned chicken-hearted, why,
the game's up, that's all; the game's up with us both.'

'Chicken-hearted? no. I have not lived so long upon the account to
start at last, neither for devil nor Dutchman.'

'Well, then, take another schnaps; the cold's at your heart still.
And now tell me, are any of your old crew with you?'

'Nein; all dead, shot, hanged, drowned, and damned. Brown was the
last. All dead but Gipsy Gab, and he would go off the country for
a spill of money; or he'll be quiet for his own sake; or old Meg,
his aunt, will keep him quiet for hers.'

'Which Meg?'

'Meg Merrilies, the old devil's limb of a gipsy witch.'

'Is she still alive?'

'Yaw.'

'And in this country?'

'And in this country. She was at the Kaim of Derncleugh, at
Vanbeest Brown's last wake, as they call it, the other night, with
two of my people, and some of her own blasted gipsies.'

'That's another breaker ahead, Captain! Will she not squeak, think
ye?'

'Not she! she won't start; she swore by the salmon, [Footnote: The
great and invoidable oath of the strolling tribes.] if we did the
kinchin no harm, she would never tell how the gauger got it. Why,
man, though I gave her a wipe with my hanger in the heat of the
matter, and cut her arm, and though she was so long after in
trouble about it up at your borough-town there, der deyvil! old
Meg was as true as steel.'

'Why, that's true, as you say,' replied Glossin. 'And yet if she
could be carried over to Zealand, or Hamburgh, or--or--anywhere
else, you know, it were as well.'

Hatteraick jumped upright upon his feet, and looked at Glossin
from head to heel. 'I don't see the goat's foot,' he said, 'and
yet he must be the very deyvil! But Meg Merrilies is closer yet
with the kobold than you are; ay, and I had never such weather as
after having drawn her blood. Nein, nein, I'll meddle with her no
more; she's a witch of the fiend, a real deyvil's kind,--but
that's her affair. Donner and wetter! I'll neither make nor
meddle; that's her work. But for the rest--why, if I thought the
trade would not suffer, I would soon rid you of the younker, if
you send me word when he's under embargo.'

In brief and under tones the two worthy associates concerted their
enterprise, and agreed at which of his haunts Hatteraick should be
heard of. The stay of his lugger on the coast was not difficult,
as there were no king's vessels there at the time.




CHAPTER XXXV

     You are one of those that will not serve God if the devil
     bids you. Because we come to do you service, you think we are
     ruffians.

          --Othello.


When Glossin returned home he found, among other letters and
papers sent to him, one of considerable importance. It was signed
by Mr. Protocol, an attorney in Edinburgh, and, addressing him as
the agent for Godfrey Bertram, Esq., late of Ellangowan, and his
representatives, acquainted him with the sudden death of Mrs.
Margaret Bertram of Singleside, requesting him to inform his
clients thereof, in case they should judge it proper to have any
person present for their interest at opening the repositories of
the deceased. Mr. Glossin perceived at once that the letter-writer
was unacquainted with the breach which had taken place between him
and his late patron. The estate of the deceased lady should by
rights, as he well knew, descend to Lucy Bertram; but it was a
thousand to one that the caprice of the old lady might have
altered its destination. After running over contingencies and
probabilities in his fertile mind, to ascertain what sort of
personal advantage might accrue to him from this incident, he
could not perceive any mode of availing himself of it, except in
so far as it might go to assist his plan of recovering, or rather
creating, a character, the want of which he had already
experienced, and was likely to feel yet more deeply. 'I must place
myself,' he thought, 'on strong ground, that, if anything goes
wrong with Dirk Hatteraick's project, I may have prepossessions in
my favour at least.' Besides, to do Glossin justice, bad as he
was, he might feel some desire to compensate to Miss Bertram in a
small degree, and in a case in which his own interest did not
interfere with hers, the infinite mischief which he had occasioned
to her family. He therefore resolved early the next morning to
ride over to Woodbourne.

It was not without hesitation that he took this step, having the
natural reluctance to face Colonel Mannering which fraud and
villainy have to encounter honour and probity. But he had great
confidence in his own savoir faire. His talents were naturally
acute, and by no means confined to the line of his profession. He
had at different times resided a good deal in England, and his
address was free both from country rusticity and professional
pedantry; so that he had considerable powers both of address and
persuasion, joined to an unshaken effrontery, which he affected to
disguise under plainness of manner. Confident, therefore, in
himself, he appeared at Woodbourne about ten in the morning, and
was admitted as a gentleman come to wait upon Miss Bertram.

He did not announce himself until he was at the door of the
breakfast-parlour, when the servant, by his desire, said aloud--
'Mr. Glossin, to wait upon Miss Bertram.' Lucy, remembering the
last scene of her father's existence, turned as pale as death, and
had well-nigh fallen from her chair. Julia Mannering flew to her
assistance, and they left the room together. There remained
Colonel Mannering, Charles Hazlewood, with his arm in a sling, and
the Dominie, whose gaunt visage and wall-eyes assumed a most
hostile aspect on recognising Glossin.

That honest gentleman, though somewhat abashed by the effect of
his first introduction, advanced with confidence, and hoped he did
not intrude upon the ladies. Colonel Mannering, in a very upright
and stately manner, observed, that he did not know to what he was
to impute the honour of a visit from Mr. Glossin.

'Hem! hem! I took the liberty to wait upon Miss Bertram, Colonel
Mannering, on account of a matter of business.'

'If it can be communicated to Mr. Mac-Morlan, her agent, sir, I
believe it will be more agreeable to Miss Bertram.'

'I beg pardon, Colonel Mannering,' said Glossin, making a wretched
attempt at an easy demeanour; 'you are a man of the world; there
are some cases in which it is most prudent for all parties to
treat with principals.'

'Then,' replied Mannering, with a repulsive air, 'if Mr. Glossin
will take the trouble to state his object in a letter, I will
answer that Miss Bertram pays proper attention to it.'

'Certainly,' stammered Glossin; 'but there are cases in which a
viva voce conference--Hem! I perceive--I know--Colonel Mannering
has adopted some prejudices which may make my visit appear
intrusive; but I submit to his good sense, whether he ought to
exclude me from a hearing without knowing the purpose of my visit,
or of how much consequence it may be to the young lady whom he
honours with his protection.'

'Certainly, sir, I have not the least intention to do so,' replied
the Colonel. 'I will learn Miss Bertram's pleasure on the subject,
and acquaint Mr. Glossin, if he can spare time to wait for her
answer.' So saying, he left the room.

Glossin had still remained standing in the midst of the apartment.
Colonel Mannering had made not the slightest motion to invite him
to sit, and indeed had remained standing himself during their
short interview. When he left the room, however, Glossin seized
upon a chair, and threw himself into it with an air between
embarrassment and effrontery. He felt the silence of his
companions disconcerting and oppressive, and resolved to interrupt
it.

'A fine day, Mr. Sampson.'

The Dominie answered with something between an acquiescent grunt
and an indignant groan.

'You never come down to see your old acquaintance on the
Ellangowan property, Mr. Sampson. You would find most of the old
stagers still stationary there. I have too much respect for the
late family to disturb old residenters, even under pretence of
improvement. Besides, it's not my way, I don't like it; I believe,
Mr. Sampson, Scripture particularly condemns those who oppress the
poor, and remove landmarks.'

'Or who devour the substance of orphans,' subjoined the Dominie.
'Anathema, Maranatha!' So saying, he rose, shouldered the folio
which he had been perusing, faced to the right about, and marched
out of the room with the strides of a grenadier.

Mr. Glossin, no way disconcerted, or at least feeling it necessary
not to appear so, turned to young Hazlewood, who was apparently
busy with the newspaper.--' Any news, sir?' Hazlewood raised his
eyes, looked at him, and pushed the paper towards him, as if to a
stranger in a coffee-house, then rose, and was about to leave the
room. 'I beg pardon, Mr. Hazlewood, but I can't help wishing you
joy of getting so easily over that infernal accident.' This was
answered by a sort of inclination of the head, as slight and stiff
as could well be imagined. Yet it encouraged our man of law to
proceed.--' I can promise you, Mr. Hazlewood, few people have
taken the interest in that matter which I have done, both for the
sake of the country and on account of my particular respect for
your family, which has so high a stake in it; indeed, so very high
a stake that, as Mr. Featherhead is 'turning old now, and as
there's a talk, since his last stroke, of his taking the Chiltern
Hundreds, it might be worth your while to look about you. I speak
as a friend, Mr. Hazlewood, and as one who understands the roll;
and if in going over it together--'

'I beg pardon, sir, but I have no views in which your assistance
could be useful.'

'O, very well, perhaps you are right; it's quite time enough, and
I love to see a young gentleman cautious. But I was talking of
your wound. I think I have got a clue to that business--I think I
have, and if I don't bring the fellow to condign punishment--!'

'I beg your pardon, sir, once more; but your zeal outruns my
wishes. I have every reason to think the wound was accidental;
certainly it was not premeditated. Against ingratitude and
premeditated treachery, should you find any one guilty of them, my
resentment will be as warm as your own.' This was Hazlewood's
answer.

'Another rebuff,' thought Glossin; 'I must try him upon the other
tack.' 'Right, sir; very nobly said! I would have no more mercy on
an ungrateful man than I would on a woodcock. And now we talk of
sport (this was a sort of diverting of the conversation which
Glossin had learned from his former patron), I see you often carry
a gun, and I hope you will be soon able to take the field again. I
observe you confine yourself always to your own side of the
Hazleshaws burn. I hope, my dear sir, you will make no scruple of
following your game to the Ellangowan bank; I believe it is rather
the best exposure of the two for woodcocks, although both are
capital.'

As this offer only excited a cold and constrained bow, Glossin was
obliged to remain silent, and was presently afterwards somewhat
relieved by the entrance of Colonel Mannering.

'I have detained you some time, I fear, sir,' said he, addressing
Glossin; 'I wished to prevail upon Miss Bertram to see you, as, in
my opinion, her objections ought to give way to the necessity of
hearing in her own person what is stated to be of importance that
she should know. But I find that circumstances of recent
occurrence, and not easily to be forgotten, have rendered her so
utterly repugnant to a personal interview with Mr. Glossin that it
would be cruelty to insist upon it; and she has deputed me to
receive his commands, or proposal, or, in short, whatever he may
wish to say to her.'

'Hem, hem! I am sorry, sir--I am very sorry, Colonel Mannering,
that Miss Bertram should suppose--that any prejudice, in short--or
idea that anything on my part--'

'Sir,' said the inflexible Colonel, 'where no accusation is made,
excuses or explanations are unnecessary. Have you any objection to
communicate to me, as Miss Bertram's temporary guardian, the
circumstances which you conceive to interest her?'

'None, Colonel Mannering; she could not choose a more respectable
friend, or one with whom I, in particular, would more anxiously
wish to communicate frankly.'

'Have the goodness to speak to the point, sir, if you please.'

'Why, sir, it is not so easy all at once--but Mr. Hazlewood need
not leave the room,--I mean so well to Miss Bertram that I could
wish the whole world to hear my part of the conference.'

'My friend Mr. Charles Hazlewood will not probably be anxious, Mr.
Glossin, to listen to what cannot concern him. And now, when he
has left us alone, let me pray you to be short and explicit in
what you have to say. I am a soldier, sir, somewhat impatient of
forms and introductions.' So saying, he drew himself up in his
chair and waited for Mr. Glossin's communication.

'Be pleased to look at that letter,' said Glossin, putting
Protocol's epistle into Mannering's hand, as the shortest way of
stating his business.

The Colonel read it and returned it, after pencilling the name of
the writer in his memorandum-book. 'This, sir, does not seem to
require much discussion. I will see that Miss Bertram's interest
is attended to.'

'But, sir,--but, Colonel Mannering,' added Glossin, 'there is
another matter which no one can explain but myself. This lady--
this Mrs. Margaret Bertram, to my certain knowledge, made a
general settlement of her affairs in Miss Lucy Bertram's favour
while she lived with my old friend Mr. Bertram at Ellangowan. The
Dominie--that was the name by which my deceased friend always
called that very respectable man Mr. Sampson--he and I witnessed
the deed. And she had full power at that time to make such a
settlement, for she was in fee of the estate of Singleside even
then, although it was life rented by an elder sister. It was a
whimsical settlement of old Singleside's, sir; he pitted the two
cats his daughters against each other, ha, ha, ha!'

'Well, sir,' said Mannering, without the slightest smile of
sympathy, 'but to the purpose. You say that this lady had power to
settle her estate on Miss Bertram, and that she did so?'

'Even so, Colonel,' replied Glossin. 'I think I should understand
the law, I have followed it for many years; and, though I have
given it up to retire upon a handsome competence, I did not throw
away that knowledge which is pronounced better than house and
land, and which I take to be the knowledge of the law, since, as
our common rhyme has it,

     'Tis most excellent,
     To win the land that's gone and spent.

No, no, I love the smack of the whip: I have a little, a very
little law yet, at the service of my friends.'

Glossin ran on in this manner, thinking he had made a favourable
impression on Mannering. The Colonel, indeed, reflected that this
might be a most important crisis for Miss Bertram's interest, and
resolved that his strong inclination to throw Glossin out at
window or at door should not interfere with it. He put a strong
curb on his temper, and resolved to listen with patience at least,
if without complacency. He therefore let Mr. Glossin get to the
end of his self-congratulations, and then asked him if he knew
where the deed was.

'I know--that is, I think--I believe I can recover it. In such
cases custodiers have sometimes made a charge.'

'We won't differ as to that, sir,' said the Colonel, taking out
his pocket-book.

'But, my dear sir, you take me so very short. I said SOME PERSONS
MIGHT make such a claim, I mean for payment of the expenses of the
deed, trouble in the affair, etc. But I, for my own part, only
wish Miss Bertram and her friends to be satisfied that I am acting
towards her with honour. There's the paper, sir! It would have
been a satisfaction to me to have delivered it into Miss Bertram's
own hands, and to have wished her joy of the prospects which it
opens. But, since her prejudices on the subject are invincible, it
only remains for me to transmit her my best wishes through you,
Colonel Mannering, and to express that I shall willingly give my
testimony in support of that deed when I shall be called upon. I
have the honour to wish you a good morning, sir.'

This parting speech was so well got up, and had so much the tone
of conscious integrity unjustly suspected, that even Colonel
Mannering was staggered in his bad opinion. He followed him two or
three steps, and took leave of him with more politeness (though
still cold and formal) than he had paid during his visit. Glossin
left the house half pleased with the impression he had made, half
mortified by the stern caution and proud reluctance with which he
had been received. 'Colonel Mannering might have had more
politeness,' he said to himself. 'It is not every man that can
bring a good chance of 400 Pounds a year to a penniless girl.
Singleside must be up to 400 Pounds a year now; there's
Reilageganbeg, Gillifidget, Loverless, Liealone, and the
Spinster's Knowe--good 400 Pounds a year. Some people might have
made their own of it in my place; and yet, to own the truth, after
much consideration, I don't see how that is possible.'

Glossin was no sooner mounted and gone than the Colonel despatched
a groom for Mr. Mac-Morlan, and, putting the deed into his hand,
requested to know if it was likely to be available to his friend
Lucy Bertram. Mac-Morlan perused it with eyes that sparkled with
delight, snapped his fingers repeatedly, and at length exclaimed,
'Available! it's as tight as a glove; naebody could make better
wark than Glossin, when he didna let down a steek on purpose. But
(his countenance falling) the auld b---, that I should say so,
might alter at pleasure!'

'Ah! And how shall we know whether she has done so?'

'Somebody must attend on Miss Bertram's part when the repositories
of the deceased are opened.'

'Can you go?' said the Colonel.

'I fear I cannot,' replied Mac-Morlan; 'I must attend a jury trial
before our court.'

'Then I will go myself,' said the Colonel; 'I'll set out to-
morrow. Sampson shall go with me; he is witness to this
settlement. But I shall want a legal adviser.'

'The gentleman that was lately sheriff of this county is high in
reputation as a barrister; I will give you a card of introduction
to him.'

'What I like about you, Mr. Mac-Morlan,' said the Colonel, 'is
that you always come straight to the point. Let me have it
instantly. Shall we tell Miss Lucy her chance of becoming an
heiress?'

'Surely, because you must have some powers from her, which I will
instantly draw out. Besides, I will be caution for her prudence,
and that she will consider it only in the light of a chance.'

Mac-Morlan judged well. It could not be discerned from Miss
Bertram's manner that she founded exulting hopes upon the prospect
thus unexpectedly opening before her. She did, indeed, in the
course of the evening ask Mr. Mac-Morlan, as if by accident, what
might be the annual income of the Hazlewood property; but shall we
therefore aver for certain that she was considering whether an
heiress of four hundred a year might be a suitable match for the
young Laird?




CHAPTER XXXVI

     Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red. For I must
     speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein.

          --Henry IV, part I.


Mannering, with Sampson for his companion, lost no time in his
journey to Edinburgh. They travelled in the Colonel's post-
chariot, who, knowing his companion's habits of abstraction, did
not choose to lose him out of his own sight, far less to trust him
on horseback, where, in all probability, a knavish stable-boy
might with little address have contrived to mount him with his
face to the tail. Accordingly, with the aid of his valet, who
attended on horseback, he contrived to bring Mr. Sampson safe to
an inn in Edinburgh--for hotels in those days there were none--
without any other accident than arose from his straying twice upon
the road. On one occasion he was recovered by Barnes, who
understood his humour, when, after engaging in close colloquy with
the schoolmaster of Moffat respecting a disputed quantity in
Horace's 7th Ode, Book II, the dispute led on to another
controversy concerning the exact meaning of the word malobathro in
that lyric effusion. His second escapade was made for the purpose
of visiting the field of Rullion Green, which was dear to his
Presbyterian predilections. Having got out of the carriage for an
instant, he saw the sepulchral monument of the slain at the
distance of about a mile, and was arrested by Barnes in his
progress up the Pentland Hills, having on both occasions forgot
his friend, patron, and fellow-traveller as completely as if he
had been in the East Indies. On being reminded that Colonel
Mannering was waiting for him, he uttered his usual ejaculation of
'Prodigious! I was oblivious,' and then strode back to his post.
Barnes was surprised at his master's patience on both occasions,
knowing by experience how little he brooked neglect or delay; but
the Dominie was in every respect a privileged person. His patron
and he were never for a moment in each other's way, and it seemed
obvious that they were formed to be companions through life. If
Mannering wanted a particular book, the Dominie could bring it; if
he wished to have accounts summed up or checked, his assistance
was equally ready; if he desired to recall a particular passage in
the classics, he could have recourse to the Dominie as to a
dictionary; and all the while this walking statue was neither
presuming when noticed nor sulky when left to himself. To a proud,
shy, reserved man, and such in many respects was Mannering, this
sort of living catalogue and animated automaton had all the
advantages of a literary dumb-waiter.

As soon as they arrived in Edinburgh, and were established at the
George Inn, near Bristo Port, then kept by old Cockburn (I love to
be particular), the Colonel desired the waiter to procure him a
guide to Mr. Pleydell's, the advocate, for whom he had a letter of
introduction from Mr. Mac-Morlan. He then commanded Barnes to have
an eye to the Dominie, and walked forth with a chairman, who was
to usher him to the man of law.

The period was near the end of the American war. The desire of
room, of air, and of decent accommodation had not as yet made very
much progress in the capital of Scotland. Some efforts had been
made on the south side of the town towards building houses WITHIN
THEMSELVES, as they are emphatically termed; and the New Town on
the north, since so much extended, was then just commenced. But
the great bulk of the better classes, and particularly those
connected with the law, still lived in flats or dungeons of the
Old Town. The manners also of some of the veterans of the law had
not admitted innovation. One or two eminent lawyers still saw
their clients in taverns, as was the general custom fifty years
before; and although their habits were already considered as old-
fashioned by the younger barristers, yet the custom of mixing wine
and revelry with serious business was still maintained by those
senior counsellors who loved the old road, either because it was
such or because they had got too well used to it to travel any
other. Among those praisers of the past time, who with
ostentatious obstinacy affected the manners of a former
generation, was this same Paulus Pleydell, Esq., otherwise a good
scholar, an excellent lawyer, and a worthy man.

Under the guidance of his trusty attendant, Colonel Mannering,
after threading a dark lane or two, reached the High Street, then
clanging with the voices of oyster-women and the bells of pye-men;
for it had, as his guide assured him, just' chappit eight upon the
Tron.' It was long since Mannering had been in the street of a
crowded metropolis, which, with its noise and clamour, its sounds
of trade, of revelry, and of license, its variety of lights, and
the eternally changing bustle of its hundred groups, offers, by
night especially, a spectacle which, though composed of the most
vulgar materials when they are separately considered, has, when
they are combined, a striking and powerful effect on the
imagination. The extraordinary height of the houses was marked by
lights, which, glimmering irregularly along their front, ascended
so high among the attics that they seemed at length to twinkle in
the middle sky. This coup d'aeil, which still subsists in a
certain degree, was then more imposing, owing to the uninterrupted
range of buildings on each side, which, broken only at the space
where the North Bridge joins the main street, formed a superb and
uniform place, extending from the front of the Lucken-booths to
the head of the Canongate, and corresponding in breadth and length
to the uncommon height of the buildings on either side.

Mannering had not much time to look and to admire. His conductor
hurried him across this striking scene, and suddenly dived with
him into a very steep paved lane. Turning to the right, they
entered a scale staircase, as it is called, the state of which, so
far as it could be judged of by one of his senses, annoyed
Mannering's delicacy not a little. When they had ascended
cautiously to a considerable height, they heard a heavy rap at a
door, still two stories above them. The door opened, and
immediately ensued the sharp and worrying bark of a dog, the
squalling of a woman, the screams of an assaulted cat, and the
hoarse voice of a man, who cried in a most imperative tone, 'Will
ye, Mustard? Will ye? down, sir, down!'

'Lord preserve us!' said the female voice, 'an he had worried our
cat, Mr. Pleydell would ne'er hae forgi'en me!'

'Aweel, my doo, the cat's no a prin the waur. So he's no in, ye
say?'

'Na, Mr. Pleydell's ne'er in the house on Saturday at e'en,'
answered the female voice.

'And the morn's Sabbath too,' said the querist. 'I dinna ken what
will be done.'

By this time Mannering appeared, and found a tall, strong
countryman, clad in a coat of pepper-and-salt-coloured mixture,
with huge metal buttons, a glazed hat and boots, and a large
horsewhip beneath his arm, in colloquy with a slipshod damsel, who
had in one hand the lock of the door, and in the other a pail of
whiting, or camstane, as it is called, mixed with water--a
circumstance which indicates Saturday night in Edinburgh.

'So Mr. Pleydell is not at home, my good girl?' said Mannering.

'Ay, sir, he's at hame, but he's no in the house; he's aye out on
Saturday at e'en.'

'But, my good girl, I am a stranger, and my business express. Will
you tell me where I can find him?'

'His honour,' said the chairman, 'will be at Clerihugh's about
this time. Hersell could hae tell'd ye that, but she thought ye
wanted to see his house.'

'Well, then, show me to this tavern. I suppose he will see me, as
I come on business of some consequence?'

'I dinna ken, sir,' said the girl; 'he disna like to be disturbed
on Saturdays wi' business; but he's aye civil to strangers.'

'I'll gang to the tavern too,' said our friend Dinmont, 'for I am
a stranger also, and on business e'en sic like.'

'Na,' said the handmaiden, 'an he see the gentleman, he'll see the
simple body too; but, Lord's sake, dinna say it was me sent ye
there!'

'Atweel, I am a simple body, that's true, hinny, but I am no come
to steal ony o' his skeel for naething,' said the farmer in his
honest pride, and strutted away downstairs, followed by Mannering
and the cadie. Mannering could not help admiring the determined
stride with which the stranger who preceded them divided the
press, shouldering from him, by the mere weight and impetus of his
motion, both drunk and sober passengers. 'He'll be a Teviotdale
tup tat ane,' said the chairman, 'tat's for keeping ta crown o' ta
causeway tat gate; he'll no gang far or he'll get somebody to
bell ta cat wi' him.'

His shrewd augury, however, was not fulfilled. Those who recoiled
from the colossal weight of Dinmont, on looking up at his size and
strength, apparently judged him too heavy metal to be rashly
encountered, and suffered him to pursue his course unchallenged.
Following in the wake of this first-rate, Mannering proceeded till
the farmer made a pause, and, looking back to the chairman, said,
'I'm thinking this will be the close, friend.'

'Ay, ay,' replied Donald, 'tat's ta close.'

Dinmont descended confidently, then turned into a dark alley, then
up a dark stair, and then into an open door. While he was
whistling shrilly for the waiter, as if he had been one of his
collie dogs, Mannering looked round him, and could hardly conceive
how a gentleman of a liberal profession and good society should
choose such a scene for social indulgence. Besides the miserable
entrance, the house itself seemed paltry and half ruinous. The
passage in which they stood had a window to the close, which
admitted a little light during the daytime, and a villainous
compound of smells at all times, but more especially towards
evening. Corresponding to this window was a borrowed light on the
other side of the passage, looking into the kitchen, which had no
direct communication with the free air, but received in the
daytime, at second hand, such straggling and obscure light as
found its way from the lane through the window opposite. At
present the interior of the kitchen was visible by its own huge
fires--a sort of Pandemonium, where men and women, half undressed,
were busied in baking, broiling, roasting oysters, and preparing
devils on the gridiron; the mistress of the place, with her shoes
slipshod, and her hair straggling like that of Megaera from under
a round-eared cap, toiling, scolding, receiving orders, giving
them, and obeying them all at once, seemed the presiding
enchantress of that gloomy and fiery region.

Loud and repeated bursts of laughter from different quarters of
the house proved that her labours were acceptable, and not
unrewarded by a generous public. With some difficulty a waiter was
prevailed upon to show Colonel Mannering and Dinmont the room
where their friend learned in the law held his hebdomadal
carousals. The scene which it exhibited, and particularly the
attitude of the counsellor himself, the principal figure therein,
struck his two clients with amazement.

Mr. Pleydell was a lively, sharp-looking gentleman, with a
professional shrewdness in his eye, and, generally speaking, a
professional formality in his manners. But this, like his three-
tailed wig and black coat, he could slip off on a Saturday
evening, when surrounded by a party of jolly companions, and
disposed for what he called his altitudes. On the present occasion
the revel had lasted since four o'clock, and at length, under the
direction of a venerable compotator, who had shared the sports and
festivity of three generations, the frolicsome company had begun
to practise the ancient and now forgotten pastime of HIGH JINKS.
This game was played in several different ways. Most frequently
the dice were thrown by the company, and those upon whom the lot
fell were obliged to assume and maintain for a time a certain
fictitious character, or to repeat a certain number of fescennine
verses in a particular order. If they departed from the characters
assigned, or if their memory proved treacherous in the repetition,
they incurred forfeits, which were either compounded for by
swallowing an additional bumper or by paying a small sum towards
the reckoning. At this sport the jovial company were closely
engaged when Mannering entered the room.

Mr. Counsellor Pleydell, such as we have described him, was
enthroned as a monarch in an elbow-chair placed on the dining-
table, his scratch wig on one side, his head crowned with a
bottle-slider, his eye leering with an expression betwixt fun and
the effects of wine, while his court around him resounded with
such crambo scraps of verse as these:--

     Where is Gerunto now? and what's become of him?
     Gerunto's drowned because he could not swim, etc., etc.

Such, O Themis, were anciently the sports of thy Scottish
children! Dinmont was first in the room. He stood aghast a moment,
and then exclaimed, 'It's him, sure enough. Deil o' the like o'
that ever I saw!'

At the sound of 'Mr. Dinmont and Colonel Mannering wanting to
speak to you, sir,' Pleydell turned his head, and blushed a little
when he saw the very genteel figure of the English stranger. He
was, however, of the opinion of Falstaff, 'Out, ye villains, play
out the play!' wisely judging it the better way to appear totally
unconcerned. 'Where be our guards?' exclaimed this second
Justinian; 'see ye not a stranger knight from foreign parts
arrived at this our court of Holyrood, with our bold yeoman Andrew
Dinmont, who has succeeded to the keeping of our royal flocks
within the forest of Jedwood, where, thanks to our royal care in
the administration of justice, they feed as safe as if they were
within the bounds of Fife? Where be our heralds, our pursuivants,
our Lyon, our Marchmount, our Carrick, and our Snowdown? Let the
strangers be placed at our board, and regaled as beseemeth their
quality and this our high holiday; to-morrow we will hear their
tidings.'

'So please you, my liege, to-morrow's Sunday,' said one of the
company.

'Sunday, is it? then we will give no offence to the assembly of
the kirk; on Monday shall be their audience.'

Mannering, who had stood at first uncertain whether to advance or
retreat, now resolved to enter for the moment into the whim of the
scene, though internally fretting at Mac-Morlan for sending him to
consult with a crack-brained humourist. He therefore advanced with
three profound congees, and craved permission to lay his
credentials at the feet of the Scottish monarch, in order to be
perused at his best leisure. The gravity with which he
accommodated himself to the humour of the moment, and the deep and
humble inclination with which he at first declined, and then
accepted, a seat presented by the master of the ceremonies,
procured him three rounds of applause.

'Deil hae me, if they arena a' mad thegither!' said Dinmont,
occupying with less ceremony a seat at the bottom of the table;
'or else they hae taen Yule before it comes, and are gaun a-
guisarding.'

A large glass of claret was offered to Mannering, who drank it to
the health of the reigning prince. 'You are, I presume to guess,'
said the monarch, 'that celebrated Sir Miles Mannering, so
renowned in the French wars, and may well pronounce to us if the
wines of Gascony lose their flavour in our more northern realm.'

Mannering, agreeably flattered by this allusion to the fame of his
celebrated ancestor, replied by professing himself only a distant
relation of the preux chevalier, and added, 'that in his opinion
the wine was superlatively good.'

'It's ower cauld for my stamach,' said Dinmont, setting down the
glass--empty however.

'We will correct that quality,' answered King Paulus, the first of
the name; 'we have not forgotten that the moist and humid air of
our valley of Liddel inclines to stronger potations. Seneschal,
let our faithful yeoman have a cup of brandy; it will be more
germain to the matter.'

'And now,' said Mannering, 'since we have unwarily intruded upon
your majesty at a moment of mirthful retirement, be pleased to say
when you will indulge a stranger with an audience on those affairs
of weight which have brought him to your northern capital.'

The monarch opened Mac-Morlan's letter, and, running it hastily
over, exclaimed with his natural voice and manner, 'Lucy Bertram
of Ellangowan, poor dear lassie!'

'A forfeit! a forfeit!' exclaimed a dozen voices; 'his majesty has
forgot his kingly character.'

'Not a whit! not a whit!' replied the king; 'I'll be judged by
this courteous knight. May not a monarch love a maid of low
degree? Is not King Cophetua and the Beggar-maid an adjudged case
in point?'

'Professional! professional! another forfeit,' exclaimed the
tumultuary nobility.

'Had not our royal predecessors,' continued the monarch, exalting
his sovereign voice to drown these disaffected clamours,--'had
they not their Jean Logies, their Bessie Carmichaels, their
Oliphants, their Sandilands, and their Weirs, and shall it be
denied to us even to name a maiden whom we delight to honour? Nay,
then, sink state and perish sovereignty! for, like a second
Charles V, we will abdicate, and seek in the private shades of
life those pleasures which are denied to a throne.'

So saying, he flung away his crown, and sprung from his exalted
station with more agility than could have been expected from his
age, ordered lights and a wash-hand basin and towel, with a cup of
green tea, into another room, and made a sign to Mannering to
accompany him. In less than two minutes he washed his face and
hands, settled his wig in the glass, and, to Mannering's great
surprise, looked quite a different man from the childish Bacchanal
he had seen a moment before.

'There are folks,' he said, 'Mr. Mannering, before whom one should
take care how they play the fool, because they have either too
much malice or too little wit, as the poet says. The best
compliment I can pay Colonel Mannering is to show I am not ashamed
to expose myself before him; and truly I think it is a compliment
I have not spared to-night on your good-nature. But what's that
great strong fellow wanting?'

Dinmont, who had pushed after Mannering into the room, began with
a scrape with his foot and a scratch of his head in unison. 'I am
Dandie Dinmont, sir, of the Charlie's Hope--the Liddesdale lad;
ye'll mind me? It was for me ye won yon grand plea.'

'What plea, you loggerhead?' said the lawyer. 'D'ye think I can
remember all the fools that come to plague me?'

'Lord, sir, it was the grand plea about the grazing o' the Langtae
Head!' said the farmer.

'Well, curse thee, never mind; give me the memorial and come to me
on Monday at ten,' replied the learned counsel.

'But, sir, I haena got ony distinct memorial.'

'No memorial, man?' said Pleydell.

'Na, sir, nae memorial,' answered Dandie; 'for your honour said
before, Mr. Pleydell, ye'll mind, that ye liked best to hear us
hill-folk tell our ain tale by word o' mouth.'

'Beshrew my tongue, that said so!' answered the counsellor; 'it
will cost my ears a dinning. Well, say in two words what you've
got to say. You see the gentleman waits.'

'Ou, sir, if the gentleman likes he may play his ain spring first;
it's a' ane to Dandie.'

'Now, you looby,' said the lawyer, 'cannot you conceive that your
business can be nothing to Colonel Mannering, but that he may not
choose to have these great ears of thine regaled with his
matters?'

'Aweel, sir, just as you and he like, so ye see to my business,'
said Dandie, not a whit disconcerted by the roughness of this
reception. 'We're at the auld wark o' the marches again, Jock o'
Dawston Cleugh and me. Ye see we march on the tap o' Touthop-rigg
after we pass the Pomoragrains; for the Pomoragrains, and
Slackenspool, and Bloodylaws, they come in there, and they belang
to the Peel; but after ye pass Pomoragrains at a muckle great
saucer-headed cutlugged stane that they ca' Charlie's Chuckie,
there Dawston Cleugh and Charlie's Hope they march. Now, I say the
march rins on the tap o' the hill where the wind and water shears;
but Jock o' Dawston Cleugh again, he contravenes that, and says
that it bauds down by the auld drove-road that gaes awa by the
Knot o' the Gate ower to Keeldar Ward; and that makes an unco
difference.'

'And what difference does it make, friend?' said Pleydell. 'How
many sheep will it feed?'

'Ou, no mony,' said Dandie, scratching his head; 'it's lying high
and exposed: it may feed a hog, or aiblins twa in a good year.'

'And for this grazing, which may be worth about five shillings a
year, you are willing to throw away a hundred pound or two?'

'Na, sir, it's no for the value of the grass,' replied Dinmont;
'it's for justice.'

'My good friend,' said Pleydell, 'justice, like charity, should
begin at home. Do you justice to your wife and family, and think
no more about the matter.'

Dinmont still lingered, twisting his hat in his hand. 'It's no for
that, sir; but I would like ill to be bragged wi' him; he threeps
he'll bring a score o' witnesses and mair, and I'm sure there's as
mony will swear for me as for him, folk that lived a' their days
upon the Charlie's Hope, and wadna like to see the land lose its
right.'

'Zounds, man, if it be a point of honour,' said the lawyer, 'why
don't your landlords take it up?'

'I dinna ken, sir (scratching his head again); there's been nae
election-dusts lately, and the lairds are unco neighbourly, and
Jock and me canna get them to yoke thegither about it a' that we
can say; but if ye thought we might keep up the rent--'

'No! no! that will never do,' said Pleydell. 'Confound you, why
don't you take good cudgels and settle it?'

'Odd, sir,' answered the farmer, 'we tried that three times
already, that's twice on the land and ance at Lockerby Fair. But I
dinna ken; we're baith gey good at single-stick, and it couldna
weel be judged.'