"Why did not Master Lowestoffe write to me?" said Nigel.

"Alas! the good gentleman lies up in lavender for it himself, and has
as little to do with pen and ink as if he were a parson."

"Did he send any token to me?" said Nigel.

"Token!--ay, marry did he--token enough, an I have not forgot it,"
said the fellow; then, giving a hoist to the waistband of his
breeches, he said,--" Ay, I have it--you were to believe me, because
your name was written with an O, for Grahame. Ay, that was it, I
think.--Well, shall we meet in two hours, when tide turns, and go down
the river like a twelve-oared barge?"

"Where is the king just now, knowest thou?" answered Lord Glenvarloch.

"The king! why, he went down to Greenwich yesterday by water, like a
noble sovereign as he is, who will always float where he can. He was
to have hunted this week, but that purpose is broken, they say; and
the Prince, and the Duke, and all of them at Greenwich, are as merry
as minnows."

"Well," replied Nigel, "I will be ready to go at five; do thou come
hither to carry my baggage."

"Ay, ay, master," replied the fellow, and left the house mixing
himself with the disorderly attendants of Duke Hildebrod, who were now
retiring. That potentate entreated Nigel to make fast the doors behind
him, and, pointing to the female who sat by the expiring fire with her
limbs outstretched, like one whom the hand of Death had already
arrested, he whispered, "Mind your hits, and mind your bargain, or I
will cut your bow-string for you before you can draw it."

Feeling deeply the ineffable brutality which could recommend the
prosecuting such views over a wretch in such a condition, Lord
Glenvarloch yet commanded his temper so far as to receive the advice
in silence, and attend to the former part of it, by barring the door
carefully behind Duke Hildebrod and his suite, with the tacit hope
that he should never again see or hear of them. He then returned to
the kitchen, in which the unhappy woman remained, her hands still
clenched, her eyes fixed, and her limbs extended, like those of a
person in a trance. Much moved by her situation, and with the prospect
which lay before her, he endeavoured to awaken her to existence by
every means in his power, and at length apparently succeeded in
dispelling her stupor, and attracting her attention. He then explained
to her that he was in the act of leaving Whitefriars in a few hours--
that his future destination was uncertain, but that he desired
anxiously to know whether he could contribute to her protection by
apprizing any friend of her situation, or otherwise. With some
difficulty she seemed to comprehend his meaning, and thanked him with
her usual short ungracious manner. "He might mean well," she said,
"but he ought to know that the miserable had no friends."

Nigel said, "He would not willingly be importunate, but, as he was
about to leave the Friars--" She interrupted him--

"You are about to leave the Friars? I will go with you."

"You go with me!" exclaimed Lord Glenvarloch.

"Yes," she said, "I will persuade my father to leave this murdering
den." But, as she spoke, the more perfect recollection of what had
passed crowded on her mind. She hid her face in her hands, and burst
out into a dreadful fit of sobs, moans, and lamentations, which
terminated in hysterics, violent in proportion to the uncommon
strength of her body and mind.

Lord Glenvarloch, shocked, confused, and inexperienced, was about to
leave the house in quest of medical, or at least female assistance;
but the patient, when the paroxysm had somewhat spent its force, held
him fast by the sleeve with one hand, covering her face with the
other, while a copious flood of tears came to relieve the emotions of
grief by which she had been so violently agitated.

"Do not leave me," she said--"do not leave me, and call no one. I have
never been in this way before, and would not now," she said, sitting
upright, and wiping her eyes with her apron,--"would not now--but
that--but that he loved _me_. if he loved nothing else that was human-
-To die so, and by such hands!"

And again the unhappy woman gave way to a paroxysm of sorrow, mingling
her tears with sobbing, wailing, and all the abandonment of female
grief, when at its utmost height. At length, she gradually recovered
the austerity of her natural composure, and maintained it as if by a
forcible exertion of resolution, repelling, as she spoke, the repeated
returns of the hysterical affection, by such an effort as that by
which epileptic patients are known to suspend the recurrence of their
fits. Yet her mind, however resolved, could not so absolutely overcome
the affection of her nerves, but that she was agitated by strong fits
of trembling, which, for a minute or two at a time, shook her whole
frame in a manner frightful to witness. Nigel forgot his own
situation, and, indeed, every thing else, in the interest inspired by
the unhappy woman before him--an interest which affected a proud
spirit the more deeply, that she herself, with correspondent highness
of mind, seemed determined to owe as little as possible either to the
humanity or the pity of others.

"I am not wont to be in this way," she said,--"but--but--Nature will
have power over the frail beings it has made. Over you, sir, I have
some right; for, without you, I had not survived this awful night. I
wish your aid had been either earlier or later--but you have saved my
life, and you are bound to assist in making it endurable to me."

"If you will show me how it is possible," answered Nigel.

"You are going hence, you say, instantly--carry me with you," said the
unhappy woman. "By my own efforts, I shall never escape from this
wilderness of guilt and misery."

"Alas! what can I do for you?" replied Nigel. "My own way, and I must
not deviate from it, leads me, in all probability, to a dungeon. I
might, indeed, transport you from hence with me, if you could
afterwards bestow yourself with any friend."

"Friend!" she exclaimed--"I have no friend--they have long since
discarded us. A spectre arising from the dead were more welcome than I
should be at the doors of those who have disclaimed us; and, if they
were willing to restore their friendship to me now, I would despise
it, because they withdrew it from him--from him"--(here she underwent
strong but suppressed agitation, and then added firmly)--"from _him_
who lies yonder.--I have no friend." Here she paused; and then
suddenly, as if recollecting herself, added, "I have no friend, but I
have that will purchase many--I have that which will purchase both
friends and avengers.--It is well thought of; I must not leave it for
a prey to cheats and ruffians.--Stranger, you must return to yonder
room. Pass through it boldly to his--that is, to the sleeping
apartment; push the bedstead aside; beneath each of the posts is a
brass plate, as if to support the weight, but it is that upon the
left, nearest to the wall, which must serve your turn--press the
corner of the plate, and it will spring up and show a keyhole, which
this key will open. You will then lift a concealed trap-door, and in a
cavity of the floor you will discover a small chest. Bring it hither;
it shall accompany our journey, and it will be hard if the contents
cannot purchase me a place of refuge."

"But the door communicating with the kitchen has been locked by these
people," said Nigel.

"True, I had forgot; they had their reasons for that, doubtless,"
answered she. "But the secret passage from your apartment is open, and
you may go that way."

Lord Glenvarloch took the key, and, as he lighted a lamp to show him
the way, she read in his countenance some unwillingness to the task
imposed.

"You fear?" said she--"there is no cause; the murderer and his victim
are both at rest. Take courage, I will go with you myself--you cannot
know the trick of the spring, and the chest will be too heavy for
you."

"No fear, no fear," answered Lord Glenvarloch, ashamed of the
construction she put upon a momentary hesitation, arising from a
dislike to look upon what is horrible, often connected with those
high-wrought minds which are the last to fear what is merely
dangerous--"I will do your errand as you desire; but for you, you must
not--cannot go yonder."

"I can--I will," she said. "I am composed. You shall see that I am
so." She took from the table a piece of unfinished sewing-work, and,
with steadiness and composure, passed a silken thread into the eye of
a fine needle.--"Could I have done that," she said, with a smile yet
more ghastly than her previous look of fixed despair, "had not my
heart and hand been both steady?"

She then led the way rapidly up stairs to Nigel's chamber, and
proceeded through the secret passage with the same haste, as if she
had feared her resolution might have failed her ere her purpose was
executed. At the bottom of the stairs she paused a moment, before
entering the fatal apartment, then hurried through with a rapid step
to the sleeping chamber beyond, followed closely by Lord Glenvarloch,
whose reluctance to approach the scene of butchery was altogether lost
in the anxiety which he felt on account of the survivor of the
tragedy.

Her first action was to pull aside the curtains of her father's bed.
The bed-clothes were thrown aside in confusion, doubtless in the
action of his starting from sleep to oppose the entrance of the
villains into the next apartment. The hard mattress scarcely showed
the slight pressure where the emaciated body of the old miser had been
deposited. His daughter sank beside the bed, clasped her hands, and
prayed to heaven, in a short and affectionate manner, for support in
her affliction, and for vengeance on the villains who had made her
fatherless. A low-muttered and still more brief petition recommended
to Heaven the soul of the sufferer, and invoked pardon for his sins,
in virtue of the great Christian atonement.

This duty of piety performed, she signed to Nigel to aid her; and,
having pushed aside the heavy bedstead, they saw the brass plate which
Martha had described. She pressed the spring, and, at once, the plate
starting up, showed the keyhole, and a large iron ring used in lifting
the trap-door, which, when raised, displayed the strong box, or small
chest, she had mentioned, and which proved indeed so very weighty,
that it might perhaps have been scarcely possible for Nigel, though a
very strong man, to have raised it without assistance.

Having replaced everything as they had found it, Nigel, with such help
as his companion was able to afford, assumed his load, and made a
shift to carry it into the next apartment, where lay the miserable
owner, insensible to sounds and circumstances, which, if any thing
could have broken his long last slumber, would certainly have done so.
His unfortunate daughter went up to his body, and had even the courage
to remove the sheet which had been decently disposed over it. She put
her hand on the heart, but there was no throb--held a feather to the
lips, but there was no motion--then kissed with deep reverence the
starting veins of the pale forehead, and then the emaciated hand.

"I would you could hear me," she said,--"Father! I would you could
hear me swear, that, if I now save what you most valued on earth, it
is only to assist me in obtaining vengeance for your death."

She replaced the covering, and, without a tear, a sigh, or an
additional word of any kind, renewed her efforts, until they conveyed
the strong-box betwixt them into Lord Glenvarloch's sleeping
apartment. "It must pass," she said, "as part of your baggage. I will
be in readiness so soon as the waterman calls."

She retired; and Lord Glenvarloch, who saw the hour of their departure
approach, tore down a part of the old hanging to make a covering,
which he corded upon the trunk, lest the peculiarity of its shape, and
the care with which it was banded and counterbanded with bars of
steel, might afford suspicions respecting the treasure which it
contained. Having taken this measure of precaution, he changed the
rascally disguise, which he had assumed on entering Whitefriars, into
a suit becoming his quality, and then, unable to sleep, though
exhausted with the events of the night, he threw himself on his bed to
await the summons of the waterman.




CHAPTER XXVI


  Give us good voyage, gentle stream--we stun not
  Thy sober ear with sounds of revelry;
  Wake not the slumbering echoes of thy banks
  With voice of flute and horn--we do but seek
  On the broad pathway of thy swelling bosom
  To glide in silent safety.
                             _The Double Bridal._

Grey, or rather yellow light, was beginning to twinkle through the
fogs of Whitefriars, when a low tap at the door of the unhappy miser
announced to Lord Glenvarloch the summons of the boatman. He found at
the door the man whom he had seen the night before, with a companion.

"Come, come, master, let us get afloat," said one of them, in a rough
impressive whisper, "time and tide wait for no man." "They shall not
wait for me," said Lord Glenvarloch; "but I have some things to carry
with me."

"Ay, ay--no man will take a pair of oars now, Jack, unless he means to
load the wherry like a six-horse waggon. When they don't want to shift
the whole kitt, they take a sculler, and be d--d to them. Come, come,
where be your rattle-traps?"

One of the men was soon sufficiently loaded, in his own estimation at
least, with Lord Glenvarloch's mail and its accompaniments, with which
burden he began to trudge towards the Temple Stairs. His comrade, who
seemed the principal, began to handle the trunk which contained the
miser's treasure, but pitched it down again in an instant, declaring,
with a great oath, that it was as reasonable to expect a man to carry
Paul's on his back. The daughter of Trapbois, who had by this time
joined them, muffled up in a long dark hood and mantle, exclaimed to
Lord Glenvarloch--"Let them leave it if they will, let them leave it
all; let us but escape from this horrible place."

We have mentioned elsewhere, that Nigel was a very athletic young man,
and, impelled by a strong feeling of compassion and indignation, he
showed his bodily strength singularly on this occasion, by seizing on
the ponderous strong-box, and, by means of the rope he had cast around
it, throwing it on his shoulders, and marching resolutely forward
under a weight, which would have sunk to the earth three young
gallants, at the least, of our degenerate day. The waterman followed
him in amazement, calling out, "Why, master, master, you might as well
gie me t'other end on't!" and anon offered his assistance to support
it in some degree behind, which after the first minute or two Nigel
was fain to accept. His strength was almost exhausted when he reached
the wherry, which was lying at the Temple Stairs according to
appointment; and, when he pitched the trunk into it, the weight sank
the bow of the boat so low in the water as well-nigh to overset it.

"We shall have as hard a fare of it," said the waterman to his
companion, "as if we were ferrying over an honest bankrupt with all
his secreted goods--Ho, ho! good woman, what, are you stepping in
for?--our gunwale lies deep enough in the water without live lumber to
boot."

"This person comes with me," said Lord Glenvarloch; "she is for the
present under my protection."

"Come, come, master," rejoined the fellow, "that is out of my
commission. You must not double my freight on me--she may go by land--
and, as for protection, her face will protect her from Berwick to the
Land's End."

"You will not except at my doubling the loading, if I double the
fare?" said Nigel, determined on no account to relinquish the
protection of this unhappy woman, for which he had already devised
some sort of plan, likely now to be baffled by the characteristic
rudeness of the Thames watermen.

"Ay, by G--, but I will except, though, "said the fellow with the
green plush jacket: "I will overload my wherry neither for love nor
money--I love my boat as well as my wife, and a thought better."

"Nay, nay, comrade," said his mate, "that is speaking no true water
language. For double fare we are bound to row a witch in her eggshell
if she bid us; and so pull away, Jack, and let us have no more
prating."

They got into the stream-way accordingly, and, although heavily laden,
began to move down the river with reasonable speed.

The lighter vessels which passed, overtook, or crossed them, in their
course, failed not to assail them with their boisterous raillery,
which was then called water-wit; for which the extreme plainness of
Mistress Martha's features, contrasted with the youth, handsome
figure, and good looks of Nigel, furnished the principal topics; while
the circumstance of the boat being somewhat overloaded, did not escape
their notice. They were hailed successively, as a grocer's wife upon a
party of pleasure with her eldest apprentice--as an old woman carrying
her grandson to school--and as a young strapping Irishman, conveying
an ancient maiden to Dr. Rigmarole's, at Redriffe, who buckles beggars
for a tester and a dram of Geneva. All this abuse was retorted in a
similar strain of humour by Greenjacket and his companion, who
maintained the war of wit with the same alacrity with which they were
assailed.

Meanwhile, Lord Glenvarloch asked his desolate companion if she had
thought on any place where she could remain in safety with her
property. She confessed, in more detail than formerly, that her
father's character had left her no friends; and that, from the time he
had betaken himself to Whitefriars, to escape certain legal
consequences of his eager pursuit of gain, she had lived a life of
total seclusion; not associating with the society which the place
afforded, and, by her residence there, as well as her father's
parsimony, effectually cut off from all other company. What she now
wished, was, in the first place, to obtain the shelter of a decent
lodging, and the countenance of honest people, however low in life,
until she should obtain legal advice as to the mode of obtaining
justice on her father's murderer. She had no hesitation to charge the
guilt upon Colepepper, (commonly called Peppercull,) whom she knew to
be as capable of any act of treacherous cruelty, as he was cowardly,
where actual manhood was required. He had been strongly suspected of
two robberies before, one of which was coupled with an atrocious
murder. He had, she intimated, made pretensions to her hand as the
easiest and safest way of obtaining possession of her father's wealth;
and, on her refusing his addresses, if they could be termed so, in the
most positive terms, he had thrown out such obscure hints of
vengeance, as, joined with some imperfect assaults upon the house, had
kept her in frequent alarm, both on her father's account and her own.

Nigel, but that his feeling of respectful delicacy to the unfortunate
woman forebade him to do so, could here have communicated a
circumstance corroborative of her suspicions, which had already
occurred to his own mind. He recollected the hint that old Hildebrod
threw forth on the preceding night, that some communication betwixt
himself and Colepepper had hastened the catastrophe. As this
communication related to the plan which Hildebrod had been pleased to
form, of promoting a marriage betwixt Nigel himself and the rich
heiress of Trapbois, the fear of losing an opportunity not to be
regained, together with the mean malignity of a low-bred ruffian,
disappointed in a favourite scheme, was most likely to instigate the
bravo to the deed of violence which had been committed. The reflection
that his own name was in some degree implicated with the causes of
this horrid tragedy, doubled Lord Glenvarloch's anxiety in behalf of
the victim whom he had rescued, while at the same time he formed the
tacit resolution, that, so soon as his own affairs were put upon some
footing, he would contribute all in his power towards the
investigation of this bloody affair.

After ascertaining from his companion that she could form no better
plan of her own, he recommended to her to take up her lodging for the
time, at the house of his old landlord, Christie the ship-chandler, at
Paul's Wharf, describing the decency and honesty of that worthy
couple, and expressing his hopes that they would receive her into
their own house, or recommend her at least to that of some person for
whom they would be responsible, until she should have time to enter
upon other arrangements for herself.

The poor woman received advice so grateful to her in her desolate
condition, with an expression of thanks, brief indeed, but deeper than
any thing had yet extracted from the austerity of her natural
disposition.

Lord Glenvarloch then proceeded to inform Martha, that certain
reasons, connected with his personal safety, called him immediately to
Greenwich, and, therefore, it would not be in his power to accompany
her to Christie's house, which he would otherwise have done with
pleasure: but, tearing a leaf from his tablet, he wrote on it a few
lines, addressed to his landlord, as a man of honesty and humanity, in
which he described the bearer as a person who stood in singular
necessity of temporary protection and good advice, for which her
circumstances enabled her to make ample acknowledgment. He therefore
requested John Christie, as his old and good friend, to afford her the
shelter of his roof for a short time; or, if that might not be
consistent with his convenience, at least to direct her to a proper
lodging-and, finally, he imposed on him the additional, and somewhat
more difficult commission, to recommend her to the counsel and
services of an honest, at least a reputable and skilful attorney, for
the transacting some law business of importance. The note he
subscribed with his real name, and, delivering it to his _protegee_,
who received it with another deeply uttered "I thank you," which spoke
the sterling feelings of her gratitude better than a thousand combined
phrases, he commanded the watermen to pull in for Paul's Wharf, which
they were now approaching.

"We have not time," said Green-jacket; "we cannot be stopping every
instant."

But, upon Nigel insisting upon his commands being obeyed, and adding,
that it was for the purpose of putting the lady ashore, the waterman
declared that he would rather have her room than her company, and put
the wherry alongside the wharf accordingly. Here two of the porters,
who ply in such places, were easily induced to undertake the charge of
the ponderous strong-box, and at the same time to guide the owner to
the well-known mansion of John Christie, with whom all who lived in
that neighbourhood were perfectly acquainted.

The boat, much lightened of its load, went down the Thames at a rate
increased in proportion. But we must forbear to pursue her in her
voyage for a few minutes, since we have previously to mention the
issue of Lord Glenvarloch's recommendation.

Mistress Martha Trapbois reached the shop in perfect safety, and was
about to enter it, when a sickening sense of the uncertainty of her
situation, and of the singularly painful task of telling her story,
came over her so strongly, that she paused a moment at the very
threshold of her proposed place of refuge, to think in what manner she
could best second the recommendation of the friend whom Providence had
raised up to her. Had she possessed that knowledge of the world, from
which her habits of life had completely excluded her, she might have
known that the large sum of money which she brought along with her,
might, judiciously managed, have been a passport to her into the
mansions of nobles, and the palaces of princes. But, however conscious
of its general power, which assumes so many forms and complexions, she
was so inexperienced as to be most unnecessarily afraid that the means
by which the wealth had been acquired, might exclude its inheretrix
from shelter even in the house of a humble tradesman.

While she thus delayed, a more reasonable cause for hesitation arose,
in a considerable noise and altercation within the house, which grew
louder and louder as the disputants issued forth upon the street or
lane before the door.

The first who entered upon the scene was a tall raw-boned hard-
favoured man, who stalked out of the shop hastily, with a gait like
that of a Spaniard in a passion, who, disdaining to add speed to his
locomotion by running, only condescends, in the utmost extremity of
his angry haste, to add length to his stride. He faced about, so soon
as he was out of the house, upon his pursuer, a decent-looking,
elderly, plain tradesman--no other than John Christie himself, the
owner of the shop and tenement, by whom he seemed to be followed, and
who was in a state of agitation more than is usually expressed by such
a person.

"I'll hear no more on't," said the personage who first appeared on the
scene.--"Sir, I will hear no more on it. Besides being a most false
and impudent figment, as I can testify--it is _Scandaalum Magnaatum_,
sir--_Scandaalum Magnaatum_" he reiterated with a broad accentuation
of the first vowel, well known in the colleges of Edinburgh and
Glasgow, which we can only express in print by doubling the said first
of letters and of vowels, and which would have cheered the cockles of
the reigning monarch had he been within hearing,--as he was a severer
stickler for what he deemed the genuine pronunciation of the Roman
tongue, than for any of the royal prerogatives, for which he was at
times disposed to insist so strenuously in his speeches to Parliament.

"I care not an ounce of rotten cheese," said John Christie in reply,
"what you call it--but it is TRUE; and I am a free Englishman, and
have right to speak the truth in my own concerns; and your master is
little better than a villain, and you no more than a swaggering
coxcomb, whose head I will presently break, as I have known it well
broken before on lighter occasion."

And, so saying, he flourished the paring-shovel which usually made
clean the steps of his little shop, and which he had caught up as the
readiest weapon of working his foeman damage, and advanced therewith
upon him. The cautious Scot (for such our readers must have already
pronounced him, from his language and pedantry) drew back as the
enraged ship-chandler approached, but in a surly manner, and bearing
his hand on his sword-hilt rather in the act of one who was losing
habitual forbearance and caution of deportment, than as alarmed by the
attack of an antagonist inferior to himself in youth, strength, and
weapons.

"Bide back," he said, "Maister Christie--I say bide back, and consult
your safety, man. I have evited striking you in your ain house under
muckle provocation, because I am ignorant how the laws here may
pronounce respecting burglary and hamesucken, and such matters; and,
besides, I would not willingly hurt ye, man, e'en on the causeway,
that is free to us baith, because I mind your kindness of lang syne,
and partly consider ye as a poor deceived creature. But deil d--n me,
sir, and I am not wont to swear, but if you touch my Scotch shouther
with that shule of yours, I will make six inches of my Andrew Ferrara
deevilish intimate with your guts, neighbour."

And therewithal, though still retreating from the brandished shovel,
he made one-third of the basket-hilled broadsword which he wore,
visible from the sheath. The wrath of John Christie was abated, either
by his natural temperance of disposition, or perhaps in part by the
glimmer of cold steel, which flashed on him from his adversary's last
action.

"I would do well to cry clubs on thee, and have thee ducked at the
wharf," he said, grounding his shovel, however, at the same time, "for
a paltry swaggerer, that would draw thy bit of iron there on an honest
citizen before his own door; but get thee gone, and reckon on a salt
eel for thy supper, if thou shouldst ever come near my house again. I
wish it had been at the bottom of the Thames when it first gave the
use of its roof to smooth-faced, oily-tongued, double-minded Scots
thieves!"

"It's an ill bird that fouls its own nest," replied his adversary, not
perhaps the less bold that he saw matters were taking the turn of a
pacific debate; "and a pity it is that a kindly Scot should ever have
married in foreign parts, and given life to a purse-proud, pudding-
headed, fat-gutted, lean-brained Southron, e'en such as you, Maister
Christie. But fare ye weel--fare ye weel, for ever and a day; and, if
you quarrel wi' a Scot again, man, say as mickle ill o' himsell as ye
like, but say nane of his patron or of his countrymen, or it will
scarce be your flat cap that will keep your lang lugs from the sharp
abridgement of a Highland whinger, man."

"And, if you continue your insolence to me before my own door, were it
but two minutes longer," retorted John Christie, "I will call the
constable, and make your Scottish ankles acquainted with an English
pair of stocks!"

So saying, he turned to retire into his shop with some show of
victory; for his enemy, whatever might be his innate valour,
manifested no desire to drive matters to extremity--conscious,
perhaps, that whatever advantage he might gain in single combat with
Jonn Christie, would be more than overbalanced by incurring an affair
with the constituted authorities of Old England, not at that time apt
to be particularly favourable to their new fellow-subjects, in the
various successive broils which were then constantly taking place
between the individuals of two proud nations, who still retained a
stronger sense of their national animosity during centuries, than of
their late union for a few years under the government of the same
prince.

Mrs. Martha Trapbois had dwelt too long in Alsatia, to be either
surprised or terrified at the altercation she had witnessed. Indeed,
she only wondered that the debate did not end in some of those acts of
violence by which they were usually terminated in the Sanctuary. As
the disputants separated from each other, she, who had no idea that
the cause of the quarrel was more deeply rooted than in the daily
scenes of the same nature which she had heard of or witnessed, did not
hesitate to stop Master Christie in his return to his shop, and
present to him the letter which Lord Glenvarloch had given to her. Had
she been better acquainted with life and its business, she would
certainly have waited for a more temperate moment; and she had reason
to repent of her precipitation, when, without saying a single word, or
taking the trouble to gather more of the information contained in the
letter than was expressed in the subscription, the incensed ship
chandler threw it down on the ground, trampled it in high disdain,
and, without addressing a single word to the bearer, except, indeed,
something much more like a hearty curse than was perfectly consistent
with his own grave appearance, he retired into his shop, and shut the
hatch-door.

It was with the most inexpressible anguish that the desolate,
friendless and unhappy female, thus beheld her sole hope of succour,
countenance, and protection, vanish at once, without being able to
conceive a reason; for, to do her justice, the idea that her friend,
whom she knew by the name of Nigel Grahame, had imposed on her, a
solution which might readily have occurred to many in her situation,
never once entered her mind. Although it was not her temper easily to
bend her mind to entreaty, she could not help exclaiming after the
ireful and retreating ship-chandler,--"Good Master, hear me but a
moment! for mercy's sake, for honesty's sake!"

"Mercy and honesty from him, mistress!" said the Scot, who, though he
essayed not to interrupt the retreat of his antagonist, still kept
stout possession of the field of action,--"ye might as weel expect
brandy from bean-stalks, or milk from a craig of blue whunstane. The
man is mad, bom mad, to boot."

"I must have mistaken the person to whom the letter was addressed,
then;" and, as she spoke, Mistress Martha Trapbois was in the act of
stooping to lift the paper which had been so uncourteously received.
Her companion, with natural civility, anticipated her purpose; but,
what was not quite so much in etiquette, he took a sly glance at it as
he was about to hand it to her, and his eye having caught the
subscription, he said, with surprise, "Glenvarloch--Nigel Olifaunt of
Glenvarloch! Do you know the Lord Glenvarloch, mistress?"

"I know not of whom you speak," said Mrs. Martha, peevishly. "I had
that paper from one Master Nigel Gram."

"Nigel Grahame!--umph.-O, ay, very true--I had forgot," said the
Scotsman. "A tall, well-set young man, about my height; bright blue
eyes like a hawk's; a pleasant speech, something leaning to the kindly
north-country accentuation, but not much, in respect of his having
been resident abroad?"

"All this is true--and what of it all?" said the daughter of the
miser.

"Hair of my complexion?"

"Yours is red," replied she.

"I pray you peace," said the Scotsman. "I was going to say--of my
complexion, but with a deeper shade of the chestnut. Weel, mistress,
if I have guessed the man aright, he is one with whom I am, and have
been, intimate and familiar,--nay,--I may truly say I have done him
much service in my time, and may live to do him more. I had indeed a
sincere good-will for him, and I doubt he has been much at a loss
since we parted; but the fault is not mine. Wherefore, as this letter
will not avail you with him to whom it is directed, you may believe
that heaven hath sent it to me, who have a special regard for the
writer--I have, besides, as much mercy and honesty within me as man
can weel make his bread with, and am willing to aid any distressed
creature, that is my friend's friend, with my counsel, and otherwise,
so that I am not put to much charges, being in a strange country, like
a poor lamb that has wandered from its ain native hirsel, and leaves a
tait of its woo' in every d--d Southron bramble that comes across it."
While he spoke thus, he read the contents of the letter, without
waiting for permission, and then continued,--"And so this is all that
you are wanting, my dove? nothing more than safe and honourable
lodging, and sustenance, upon your own charges?"

"Nothing more," said she. "If you are a man and a Christian, you will
help me to what I need so much."

"A man I am," replied the formal Caledonian, "e'en sic as ye see me;
and a Christian I may call myself, though unworthy, and though I have
heard little pure doctrine since I came hither--a' polluted with men's
devices--ahem! Weel, and if ye be an honest woman," (here he peeped
under her muffler,) "as an honest woman ye seem likely to be--though,
let me tell you, they are a kind of cattle not so rife in the streets
of this city as I would desire them--I was almost strangled with my
own band by twa rampallians, wha wanted yestreen, nae farther gane, to
harle me into a change-house--however, if ye be a decent honest
woman," (here he took another peep at features certainly bearing no
beauty which could infer suspicion,) "as decent and honest ye seem to
be, why, I will advise you to a decent house, where you will get
douce, quiet entertainment, on reasonable terms, and the occasional
benefit of my own counsel and direction--that is, from time to time,
as my other avocations may permit."

"May I venture to accept of such an offer from a stranger?" said
Martha, with natural hesitation.

"Troth, I see nothing to hinder you, mistress," replied the bonny
Scot; "ye can but see the place, and do after as ye think best.
Besides, we are nae such strangers, neither; for I know your friend,
and you, it's like, know mine, whilk knowledge, on either hand, is a
medium of communication between us, even as the middle of the string
connecteth its twa ends or extremities. But I will enlarge on this
farther as we pass along, gin ye list to bid your twa lazy loons of
porters there lift up your little kist between them, whilk ae true
Scotsman might carry under his arm. Let me tell you, mistress, ye will
soon make a toom pock-end of it in Lon'on, if you hire twa knaves to
do the work of ane."

So saying, he led the way, followed by Mistress Martha Trapbois, whose
singular destiny, though it had heaped her with wealth, had left her,
for the moment, no wiser counsellor, or more distinguished protector,
than honest Richie Moniplies, a discarded serving-man.




CHAPTER XXVII


  This way lie safety and a sure retreat;
  Yonder lie danger, shame, and punishment
  Most welcome danger then--Nay, let me say,
  Though spoke with swelling heart--welcome e'en shame
  And welcome punishment--for, call me guilty,
  I do but pay the tax that's due to justice;
  And call me guiltless, then that punishment
  Is shame to those alone who do inflict it,
                              _The Tribunal_.

We left Lord Glenvarloch, to whose fortunes our story chiefly attaches
itself, gliding swiftly down the Thames. He was not, as the reader may
have observed, very affable in his disposition, or apt to enter into
conversation with those into whose company he was casually thrown.
This was, indeed, an error in his conduct, arising less from pride,
though of that feeling we do not pretend to exculpate him, than from a
sort of bashful reluctance to mix in the conversation of those with
whom he was not familiar. It is a fault only to be cured by experience
and knowledge of the world, which soon teaches every sensible and
acute person the important lesson, that amusement, and, what is of
more consequence, that information and increase of knowledge, are to
be derived from the conversation of every individual whatever, with
whom he is thrown into a natural train of communication. For
ourselves, we can assure the reader--and perhaps if we have ever been
able to afford him amusement, it is owing in a great degree to this
cause--that we never found ourselves in company with the stupidest of
all possible companions in a post-chaise, or with the most arrant
cumber-corner that ever occupied a place in the mail-coach, without
finding, that, in the course of our conversation with him, we had some
ideas suggested to us, either grave orgay, or some information
communicated in the course of our journey, which we should have
regretted not to have learned, and which we should be sorry to have
immediately forgotten. But Nigel was somewhat immured within the
Bastile of his rank, as some philosopher (Tom Paine, we think) has
happily enough expressed that sort of shyness which men of dignified
situations are apt to be beset with, rather from not exactly knowing
how far, or with whom, they ought to be familiar, than from any real
touch of aristocratic pride. Besides, the immediate pressure of our
adventurer's own affairs was such as exclusively to engross his
attention.

He sat, therefore, wrapt in his cloak, in the stern of the boat, with
his mind entirely bent upon the probable issue of the interview with
his Sovereign, which it was his purpose to seek; for which abstraction
of mind he may be fully justified, although perhaps, by questioning
the watermen who were transporting him down the river, he might have
discovered matters of high concernment to him.

At any rate, Nigel remained silent till the wherry approached the town
of Greenwich, when he commanded the men to put in for the nearest
landing-place, as it was his purpose to go ashore there, and dismiss
them from further attendance.

"That is not possible," said the fellow with the green jacket, who, as
we have already said, seemed to take on himself the charge of
pilotage. "We must go," he continued, "to Gravesend, where a Scottish
vessel, which dropped down the river last tide for the very purpose,
lies with her anchor a-peak, waiting to carry you to your own dear
northern country. Your hammock is slung, and all is ready for you, and
you talk of going ashore at Greenwich, as seriously as if such a thing
were possible!"

"I see no impossibility," said Nigel, "in your landing me where I
desire to be landed; but very little possibility of your carrying me
anywhere I am not desirous of going."

"Why, whether do you manage the wherry, or we, master?" asked Green-
jacket, in a tone betwixt jest and earnest; "I take it she will go the
way we row her."

"Ay," retorted Nigel, "but I take it you will row her on the course I
direct you, otherwise your chance of payment is but a poor one."

"Suppose we are content to risk that," said the undaunted waterman, "I
wish to know how you, who talk so big--I mean no offence, master, but
you do talk big--would help yourself in such a case?"

"Simply thus," answered Lord Glenvarloch--"You saw me, an hour since,
bring down to the boat a trunk that neither of you could lift. If we
are to contest the destination of our voyage, the same strength which
tossed that chest into the wherry, will suffice to fling you out of
it; wherefore, before we begin the scuffle, I pray you to remember,
that, whither I would go, there I will oblige you to carry me."

"Gramercy for your kindness," said Green-jacket; "and now mark me in
return. My comrade and I are two men--and you, were you as stout as
George-a-Green, can pass but for one; and two, you will allow, are
more than a match for one. You mistake in your reckoning, my friend."

"It is you who mistake," answered Nigel, who began to grow warm; "it
is I who am three to two, sirrah--I carry two men's lives at my
girdle."

So saying, he opened his cloak and showed the two pistols which he had
disposed at his girdle. Green-jacket was unmoved at the display.

"I have got," said he, "a pair of barkers that will match yours," and
he showed that he also was armed with pistols; "so you may begin as
soon as you list."

"Then," said Lord Glenvarloch, drawing forth and cocking a pistol,
"the sooner the better. Take notice, I hold you as a ruffian, who have
declared you will put force on my person; and that I will shoot you
through the head if you do not instantly put me ashore at Greenwich."

The other waterman, alarmed at Nigel's gesture, lay upon his oar; but
Green-jacket replied coolly--"Look you, master, I should not care a
tester to venture a life with you on this matter; but the truth is, I
am employed to do you good, and not to do you harm."

"By whom are you employed?" said the Lord Glenvarloch; "or who dare
concern themselves in me, or my affairs, without my authority?"

"As to that," answered the waterman, in the same tone of indifference,
"I shall not show my commission. For myself, I care not, as I said,
whether you land at Greenwich to get yourself hanged, or go down to
get aboard the Royal Thistle, to make your escape to your own country;
you will be equally out of my reach either way. But it is fair to put
the choice before you."

"My choice is made," said Nigel. "I have told you thrice already it is
my pleasure to be landed at Greenwich."

"Write it on a piece of paper," said the waterman, "that such is your
positive will; I must have something to show to my employers, that the
transgression of their orders lies with yourself, not with me."

"I choose to hold this trinket in my hand for the present," said
Nigel, showing his pistol, "and will write you the acquittance when I
go ashore."

"I would not go ashore with you for a hundred pieces," said the
waterman. "111 luck has ever attended you, except in small gaming; do
me fair justice, and give me the testimony I desire. If you are afraid
of foul play while you write it, you may hold my pistols, if you
will." He offered the weapons to Nigel accordingly, who, while they
were under his control, and all possibility of his being taken at
disadvantage was excluded, no longer hesitated to give the waterman an
acknowledgment, in the following terms:--

"Jack in the Green, with his mate, belonging to the wherry called the
Jolly Raven, have done their duty faithfully by me, landing me at
Greenwich by my express command; and being themselves willing and
desirous to carry me on board the Royal Thistle, presently lying at
Gravesend." Having finished this acknowledgment, which he signed with
the letters, N. O. G. as indicating his name and title, he again
requested to know of the waterman, to whom he delivered it, the name
of his employers.

"Sir," replied Jack in the Green, "I have respected your secret, do
not you seek to pry into mine. It would do you no good to know for
whom I am taking this present trouble; and, to be brief, you shall not
know it--and, if you will fight in the quarrel, as you said even now,
the sooner we begin the better. Only this you may be cock-sure of,
that we designed you no harm, and that, if you fall into any, it will
be of your own wilful seeking." As he spoke, they approached the
landing-place, where Nigel instantly jumped ashore. The waterman
placed his small mail-trunk on the stairs, observing that there were
plenty of spare hands about, to carry it where he would.

"We part friends, I hope, my lads," said the young nobleman, offering
at the same time a piece of money more than double the usual fare, to
the boatmen.

"We part as we met," answered Green-jacket; "and, for your money, I am
paid sufficiently with this bit of paper. Only, if you owe me any love
for the cast I have given you, I pray you not to dive so deep into the
pockets of the next apprentice that you find fool enough to play the
cavalier.--And you, you greedy swine," said he to his companion, who
still had a longing eye fixed on the money which Nigel continued to
offer, "push off, or, if I take a stretcher in hand, I'll break the
knave's pate of thee." The fellow pushed off, as he was commanded, but
still could not help muttering, "This was entirely out of waterman's
rules."

Glenvarloch, though without the devotion of the "injured Thales" of
the moralist, to the memory of that great princess, had now attained

"The hallow'd soil which gave Eliza birth,"

whose halls were now less respectably occupied by her successor. It
was not, as has been well shown by a late author, that James was void
either of parts or of good intentions; and his predecessor was at
least as arbitrary in effect as he was in theory. But, while Elizabeth
possessed a sternness of masculine sense and determination which
rendered even her weaknesses, some of which were in themselves
sufficiently ridiculous, in a certain degree respectable, James, on
the other hand, was so utterly devoid of "firm resolve," so well
called by the Scottish bard,

"The stalk of carle-hemp in man,"

that even his virtues and his good meaning became laughable, from the
whimsical uncertainty of his conduct; so that the wisest things he
ever said, and the best actions he ever did, were often touched with a
strain of the ludicrous and fidgety character of the man. Accordingly,
though at different periods of his reign he contrived to acquire with
his people a certain degree of temporary popularity, it never long
outlived the occasion which produced it; so true it is, that the mass
of mankind will respect a monarch stained with actual guilt, more than
one whose foibles render him only ridiculous.

To return from this digression, Lord Glenvarloch soon received, as
Green-jacket had assured him, the offer of an idle bargeman to
transport his baggage where he listed; but that where was a question
of momentary doubt. At length, recollecting the necessity that his
hair and beard should be properly arranged before he attempted to
enter the royal presence, and desirous, at the same time, of obtaining
some information of the motions of the Sovereign and of the Court, he
desired to be guided to the next barber's shop, which we have already
mentioned as the place where news of every kind circled and centred.
He was speedily shown the way to such an emporium of intelligence, and
soon found he was likely to hear all he desired to know, and much
more, while his head was subjected to the art of a nimble tonsor, the
glibness of whose tongue kept pace with the nimbleness of his fingers
while he ran on, without stint or stop, in the following excursive
manner:--

"The Court here, master?--yes, master--much to the advantage of trade-
-good custom stirring. His Majesty loves Greenwich--hunts every
morning in the Park--all decent persons admitted that have the entries
of the Palace--no rabble--frightened the king's horse with their
hallooing, the uncombed slaves.--Yes, sir, the beard more peaked? Yes,
master, so it is worn. I know the last cut--dress several of the
courtiers--one valet-of-the-chamber, two pages of the body, the clerk
of the kitchen, three running footmen, two dog-boys, and an honourable
Scottish knight, Sir Munko Malgrowler."

"Malagrowther, I suppose?" said Nigel, thrusting in his conjectural
emendation, with infinite difficulty, betwixt two clauses of the
barber's text.

"Yes, sir--Malcrowder, sir, as you say, sir--hard names the Scots
have, sir, for an English mouth. Sir Munko is a handsome person, sir--
perhaps you know him--bating the loss of his fingers, and the lameness
of his leg, and the length of his chin. Sir, it takes me one minute,
twelve seconds, more time to trim that chin of his, than any chin that
I know in the town of Greenwich, sir. But he is a very comely
gentleman, for all that; and a pleasant--a very pleasant gentleman,
sir--and a good-humoured, saving that he is so deaf he can never hear
good of any one, and so wise, that he can never believe it; but he is
a very good-natured gentleman for all that, except when one speaks too
low, or when a hair turns awry.--Did I graze you, sir? We shall put it
to rights in a moment, with one drop of styptic--my styptic, or rather
my wife's, sir--She makes the water herself. One drop of the styptic,
sir, and a bit of black taffeta patch, just big enough to be the
saddle to a flea, sir--Yes, sir, rather improves than otherwise. The
Prince had a patch the other day, and so had the Duke: and, if you
will believe me, there are seventeen yards three quarters of black
taffeta already cut into patches for the courtiers."

"But Sir Mungo Malagrowther?" again interjected Nigel, with
difficulty.

"Ay, ay, sir--Sir Munko, as you say; a pleasant, good-humoured
gentleman as ever--To be spoken with, did you say? O ay, easily to be
spoken withal, that is, as easily as his infirmity will permit. He
will presently, unless some one hath asked him forth to breakfast, be
taking his bone of broiled beef at my neighbour Ned Kilderkin's
yonder, removed from over the way. Ned keeps an eating-house, sir,
famous for pork-griskins; but Sir Munko cannot abide pork, no more
than the King's most Sacred Majesty,[Footnote: The Scots, till within
the last generation, disliked swine's flesh as an article of food as
much as the Highlanders do at present. It was remarked as
extraordinary rapacity, when the Border depredators condescended to
make prey of the accursed race, whom the fiend made his habitation.
Ben Jonson, in drawing James's character, says, he loved "no part of a
swine."] nor my Lord Duke of Lennox, nor Lord Dalgarno,--nay, I am
sure, sir, if I touched you this time, it was your fault, not mine.--
But a single drop of the styptic, another little patch that would make
a doublet for a flea, just under the left moustache; it will become
you when you smile, sir, as well as a dimple; and if you would salute
your fair mistress--but I beg pardon, you are a grave gentleman, very
grave to be so young.--Hope I have given no offence; it is my duty to
entertain customers--my duty, sir, and my pleasure--Sir Munko
Malcrowther?--yes, sir, I dare say he is at this moment in Ned's
eating-house, for few folks ask him out, now Lord Huntinglen is gone
to London. You will get touched again--yes, sir--there you shall find
him with his can of single ale, stirred with a sprig of rosemary, for
he never drinks strong potations, sir, unless to oblige Lord
Huntinglen--take heed, sir--or any other person who asks him forth to
breakfast--but single beer he always drinks at Ned's, with his broiled
bone of beef or mutton--or, it may be, lamb at the season--but not
pork, though Ned is famous for his griskins. But the Scots never eat
pork--strange that! some folk think they are a sort of Jews. There is
a resemblance, sir,--Do you not think so? Then they call our most
gracious Sovereign the Second Solomon, and Solomon, you know, was King
of the Jews; so the thing bears a face, you see. I believe, sir, you
will find yourself trimmed now to your content. I will be judged by
the fair mistress of your affections. Crave pardon--no offence, I
trust. Pray, consult the glass--one touch of the crisping tongs, to
reduce this straggler.--Thank your munificence, sir--hope your custom
while you stay in Greenwich. Would you have a tune on that ghittern,
to put your temper in concord for the day?--Twang, twang--twang,
twang, dillo. Something out of tune, sir--too many hands to touch it--
we cannot keep these things like artists. Let me help you with your
cloak, sir--yes, sir--You would not play yourself, sir, would you?--
Way to Sir Munko's eating-house?--Yes, sir; but it is Ned's eating-
house, not Sir Munko's.--The knight, to be sure, eats there, and makes
it his eating-house in some sense, sir--ha, ha! Yonder it is, removed
from over the way, new white-washed posts, and red lattice--fat man in
his doublet at the door--Ned himself, sir--worth a thousand pounds,
they say--better singeing pigs' faces than trimming courtiers--but
ours is the less mechanical vocation.--Farewell, sir; hope your
custom. "So saying, he at length permitted Nigel to depart, whose
ears, so long tormented with continued babble, tingled when it had
ceased, as if a bell had been rung close to them for the same space of
time.

Upon his arrival at the eating-house, where he proposed to meet with
Sir Mungo Malagrowther, from whom, in despair of better advice, he
trusted to receive some information as to the best mode of introducing
himself into the royal presence, Lord Glenvarloch found, in the host
with whom he communed, the consequential taciturnity of an Englishman
well to pass in the world. Ned Kilderkin spoke as a banker writes,
only touching the needful. Being asked if Sir Mungo Malagrowther was
there? he replied, No. Being interrogated whether he was expected? he
said, Yes. And being again required to say when he was expected, he
answered, Presently. As Lord Glenvarloch next inquired, whether he
himself could have any breakfast? the landlord wasted not even a
syllable in reply, but, ushering him into a neat room where there were
several tables, he placed one of them before an armchair, and
beckoning Lord Glenvarloch to take possession, he set before him, in a
very few minutes, a substantial repast of roast-beef, together with a
foaming tankard, to which refreshment the keen air of the river
disposed him, notwithstanding his mental embarrassments, to do much
honour.

While Nigel was thus engaged in discussing his commons, but raising
his head at the same time whenever he heard the door of the apartment
open, eagerly desiring the arrival of Sir Mungo Malagrowther, (an
event which had seldom been expected by any one with so much anxious
interest,) a personage, as it seemed, of at least equal importance
with the knight, entered into the apartment, and began to hold earnest
colloquy with the publican, who thought proper to carry on the
conference on his side unbonneted. This important gentleman's
occupation might be guessed from his dress. A milk-white jerkin, and
hose of white kersey; a white apron twisted around his body in the
manner of a sash, in which, instead of a war-like dagger, was stuck a
long-bladed knife, hilted with buck's-horn; a white nightcap on his
head, under which his hair was neatly tucked, sufficiently pourtrayed
him as one of those priests of Comus whom the vulgar call cooks; and
the air with which he rated the publican for having neglected to send
some provisions to the Palace, showed that he ministered to royalty
itself.

"This will never answer," he said, "Master Kilderkin--the king twice
asked for sweetbreads, and fricasseed coxcombs, which are a favourite
dish of his most Sacred Majesty, and they were not to be had, because
Master Kilderkin had not supplied them to the clerk of the kitchen, as
by bargain bound." Here Kilderkin made some apology, brief, according
to his own nature, and muttered in a lowly tone after the fashion of
all who find themselves in a scrape. His superior replied, in a lofty
strain of voice, "Do not tell me of the carrier and his wain, and of
the hen-coops coming from Norfolk with the poultry; a loyal man would
have sent an express--he would have gone upon his stumps, like
Widdrington. What if the king had lost his appetite, Master Kilderkin?
What if his most Sacred Majesty had lost his dinner? O, Master
Kilderkin, if you had but the just sense of the dignity of our
profession, which is told of by the witty African slave, for so the
king's most excellent Majesty designates him, Publius Terentius,
_Tanguam in specula--in patinas inspicerejubeo_."