'Ay, ay,' answered Glossin, 'and now I must call in the men.' He did so
accordingly.

'I can make nothing of Captain Jansen, as he calls himself, Mac-Guffog,
and it's now too late to bundle him off to the county jail. Is there not
a strong room up yonder in the old castle?'

'Ay is there, sir; my uncle the constable ance kept a man there for three
days in auld Ellangowan's time. But there was an unco dust about it; it
was tried in the Inner House afore the Feifteen.'

'I know all that, but this person will not stay there very long; it's
only a makeshift for a night, a mere lock-up house till farther
examination. There is a small room through which it opens; you may light
a fire for yourselves there, and I 'll send you plenty of stuff to make
you comfortable. But be sure you lock the door upon the prisoner; and,
hark ye, let him have a fire in the strong room too, the season requires
it. Perhaps he'll make a clean breast to-morrow.'

With these instructions, and with a large allowance of food and liquor,
the Justice dismissed his party to keep guard for the night in the old
castle, under the full hope and belief that they would neither spend the
night in watching nor prayer.

There was little fear that Glossin himself should that night sleep
over-sound. His situation was perilous in the extreme, for the schemes of
a life of villainy seemed at once to be crumbling around and above him.
He laid himself to rest, and tossed upon his pillow for a long time in
vain. At length he fell asleep, but it was only to dream of his patron,
now as he had last seen him, with the paleness of death upon his
features, then again transformed into all the vigour and comeliness of
youth, approaching to expel him from the mansion-house of his fathers.
Then he dreamed that, after wandering long over a wild heath, he came at
length to an inn, from which sounded the voice of revelry; and that when
he entered the first person he met was Frank Kennedy, all smashed and
gory, as he had lain on the beach at Warroch Point, but with a reeking
punch-bowl in his hand. Then the scene changed to a dungeon, where he
heard Dirk Hatteraick, whom he imagined to be under sentence of death,
confessing his crimes to a clergyman. 'After the bloody deed was done,'
said the penitent, 'we retreated into a cave close beside, the secret of
which was known but to one man in the country; we were debating what to
do with the child, and we thought of giving it up to the gipsies, when we
heard the cries of the pursuers hallooing to each other. One man alone
came straight to our cave, and it was that man who knew the secret; but
we made him our friend at the expense of half the value of the goods
saved. By his advice we carried off the child to Holland in our consort,
which came the following night to take us from the coast. That man was--'

'No, I deny it! it was not I!' said Glossin, in half-uttered accents;
and, struggling in his agony to express his denial more distinctly, he
awoke.

It was, however, conscience that had prepared this mental phantasmagoria.
The truth was that, knowing much better than any other person the haunts
of the smugglers, he had, while the others were searching in different
directions, gone straight to the cave, even before he had learned the
murder of Kennedy, whom he expected to find their prisoner. He came upon
them with some idea of mediation, but found them in the midst of their
guilty terrors, while the rage which had hurried them on to murder began,
with all but Hatteraick, to sink into remorse and fear. Glossin was then
indigent and greatly in debt, but he was already possessed of Mr.
Bertram's ear, and, aware of the facility of his disposition, he saw no
difficulty in enriching himself at his expense, provided the heir-male
were removed, in which case the estate became the unlimited property of
the weak and prodigal father. Stimulated by present gain and the prospect
of contingent advantage, he accepted the bribe which the smugglers
offered in their terror, and connived at, or rather encouraged, their
intention of carrying away the child of his benefactor who, if left
behind, was old enough to have described the scene of blood which he had
witnessed. The only palliative which the ingenuity of Glossin could offer
to his conscience was, that the temptation was great, and came suddenly
upon him, embracing as it were the very advantages on which his mind had
so long rested, and promising to relieve him from distresses which must
have otherwise speedily overwhelmed him. Besides, he endeavoured to think
that self-preservation rendered his conduct necessary. He was, in some
degree, in the power of the robbers, and pleaded hard with his conscience
that, had he declined their offers, the assistance which he could have
called for, though not distant, might not have arrived in time to save
him from men who, on less provocation, had just committed murder.

Galled with the anxious forebodings of a guilty conscience, Glossin now
arose and looked out upon the night. The scene which we have already
described in the third chapter of this story, was now covered with snow,
and the brilliant, though waste, whiteness of the land gave to the sea by
contrast a dark and livid tinge. A landscape covered with snow, though
abstractedly it may be called beautiful, has, both from the association
of cold and barrenness and from its comparative infrequency, a wild,
strange, and desolate appearance. Objects well known to us in their
common state have either disappeared, or are so strangely varied and
disguised that we seem gazing on an unknown world. But it was not with
such reflections that the mind of this bad man was occupied. His eye was
upon the gigantic and gloomy outlines of the old castle, where, in a
flanking tower of enormous size and thickness, glimmered two lights, one
from the window of the strong room, where Hatteraick was confined, the
other from that of the adjacent apartment, occupied by his keepers. 'Has
he made his escape, or will he be able to do so? Have these men watched,
who never watched before, in order to complete my ruin? If morning finds
him there, he must be committed to prison; Mac-Morlan or some other
person will take the matter up; he will be detected, convicted, and will
tell all in revenge!'

While these racking thoughts glided rapidly through Glossin's mind, he
observed one of the lights obscured, as by an opaque body placed at the
window. What a moment of interest! 'He has got clear of his irons! he is
working at the stancheons of the window! they are surely quite decayed,
they must give way. O God! they have fallen outward, I heard them clink
among the stones! the noise cannot fail to wake them. Furies seize his
Dutch awkwardness! The light burns free again; they have torn him from
the window, and are binding him in the room! No! he had only retired an
instant on the alarm of the falling bars; he is at the window again, and
the light is quite obscured now; he is getting out!'

A heavy sound, as of a body dropped from a height among the snow,
announced that Hatteraick had completed his escape, and shortly after
Glossin beheld a dark figure, like a shadow, steal along the whitened
beach and reach the spot where the skiff lay. New cause for fear! 'His
single strength will be unable to float her,' said Glossin to himself; 'I
must go to the rascal's assistance. But no! he has got her off, and now,
thank God, her sail is spreading itself against the moon; ay, he has got
the breeze now; would to heaven it were a tempest, to sink him to the
bottom!'

After this last cordial wish, he continued watching the progress of the
boat as it stood away towards the Point of Warroch, until he could no
longer distinguish the dusky sail from the gloomy waves over which it
glided. Satisfied then that the immediate danger was averted, he retired
with somewhat more composure to his guilty pillow.






CHAPTER V
     Why dost not comfort me, and help me out
     From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole?

          Titus Andronicus.


On the next morning, great was the alarm and confusion of the officers
when they discovered the escape of their prisoner. Mac-Guffog appeared
before Glossin with a head perturbed with brandy and fear, and incurred a
most severe reprimand for neglect of duty. The resentment of the Justice
appeared only to be suspended by his anxiety to recover possession of the
prisoner, and the thief-takers, glad to escape from his awful and
incensed presence, were sent off in every direction (except the right
one) to recover their prisoner, if possible. Glossin particularly
recommended a careful search at the Kaim of Derncleugh, which was
occasionally occupied under night by vagrants of different descriptions.
Having thus dispersed his myrmidons in various directions, he himself
hastened by devious paths through the wood of Warroch to his appointed
interview with Hatteraick, from whom he hoped to learn at more leisure
than last night's conference admitted the circumstances attending the
return of the heir of Ellangowan to his native country.

With manoeuvres like those of a fox when he doubles to avoid the pack,
Glossin strove to approach the place of appointment in a manner which
should leave no distinct track of his course. 'Would to Heaven it would
snow,' he said, looking upward, 'and hide these foot-prints. Should one
of the officers light upon them, he would run the scent up like a
bloodhound and surprise us. I must get down upon the sea-beach, and
contrive to creep along beneath the rocks.'

And accordingly he descended from the cliffs with some difficulty, and
scrambled along between the rocks and the advancing tide; now looking up
to see if his motions were watched from the rocks above him, now casting
a jealous glance to mark if any boat appeared upon the sea, from which
his course might be discovered.

But even the feelings of selfish apprehension were for a time superseded,
as Glossin passed the spot where Kennedy's body had been found. It was
marked by the fragment of rock which had been precipitated from the cliff
above, either with the body or after it. The mass was now encrusted with
small shell-fish, and tasselled with tangle and seaweed; but still its
shape and substance were different from those of the other rocks which
lay scattered around. His voluntary walks, it will readily be believed,
had never led to this spot; so that, finding himself now there for the
first time after the terrible catastrophe, the scene at once recurred to
his mind with all its accompaniments of horror. He remembered how, like a
guilty thing, gliding from the neighbouring place of concealment, he had
mingled with eagerness, yet with caution, among the terrified group who
surrounded the corpse, dreading lest any one should ask from whence he
came. He remembered, too, with what conscious fear he had avoided gazing
upon that ghastly spectacle. The wild scream of his patron, 'My bairn! my
bairn!' again rang in his ears. 'Good God!' he exclaimed, 'and is all I
have gained worth the agony of that moment, and the thousand anxious
fears and horrors which have since embittered my life! O how I wish that
I lay where that wretched man lies, and that he stood here in life and
health! But these regrets are all too late.'

Stifling, therefore, his feelings, he crept forward to the cave, which
was so near the spot where the body was found that the smugglers might
have heard from their hiding-place the various conjectures of the
bystanders concerning the fate of their victim. But nothing could be more
completely concealed than the entrance to their asylum. The opening, not
larger than that of a fox-earth, lay in the face of the cliff directly
behind a large black rock, or rather upright stone, which served at once
to conceal it from strangers and as a mark to point out its situation to
those who used it as a place of retreat. The space between the stone and
the cliff was exceedingly narrow, and, being heaped with sand and other
rubbish, the most minute search would not have discovered the mouth of
the cavern without removing those substances which the tide had drifted
before it. For the purpose of further concealment, it was usual with the
contraband traders who frequented this haunt, after they had entered, to
stuff the mouth with withered seaweed, loosely piled together as if
carried there by the waves. Dirk Hatteraick had not forgotten this
precaution.

Glossin, though a bold and hardy man, felt his heart throb and his knees
knock together when he prepared to enter this den of secret iniquity, in
order to hold conference with a felon, whom he justly accounted one of
the most desperate and depraved of men. 'But he has no interest to injure
me,' was his consolatory reflection. He examined his pocket-pistols,
however, before removing the weeds and entering the cavern, which he did
upon hands and knees. The passage, which at first was low and narrow,
just admitting entrance to a man in a creeping posture, expanded after a
few yards into a high arched vault of considerable width. The bottom,
ascending gradually, was covered with the purest sand. Ere Glossin had
got upon his feet, the hoarse yet suppressed voice of Hatteraick growled
through the recesses of the cave:--

'Hagel and donner! be'st du?'

'Are you in the dark?'

'Dark? der deyvil! ay,' said Dirk Hatteraick; 'where should I have a
glim?'

'I have brought light'; and Glossin accordingly produced a tinder-box and
lighted a small lantern.

'You must kindle some fire too, for hold mich der deyvil, Ich bin ganz
gefrorne!'

'It is a cold place, to be sure,' said Glossin, gathering together some
decayed staves of barrels and pieces of wood, which had perhaps lain in
the cavern since Hatteraick was there last.

'Cold? Snow-wasser and hagel! it's perdition; I could only keep myself
alive by rambling up and down this d--d vault, and thinking about the
merry rouses we have had in it.'

The flame then began to blaze brightly, and Hatteraick hung his bronzed
visage and expanded his hard and sinewy hands over it, with an avidity
resembling that of a famished wretch to whom food is exposed. The light
showed his savage and stern features, and the smoke, which in his agony
of cold he seemed to endure almost to suffocation, after circling round
his head, rose to the dim and rugged roof of the cave, through which it
escaped by some secret rents or clefts in the rock; the same doubtless
that afforded air to the cavern when the tide was in, at which time the
aperture to the sea was filled with water.

'And now I have brought you some breakfast,' said Glossin, producing some
cold meat and a flask of spirits. The latter Hatteraick eagerly seized
upon and applied to his mouth; and, after a hearty draught, he exclaimed
with great rapture, 'Das schmeckt! That is good, that warms the liver!'
Then broke into the fragment of a High-Dutch song,--

     Saufen Bier und Brantewein,
     Schmeissen alle die Fenstern ein;
     Ich bin liederlich,
     Du bist liederlich;
     Sind wir nicht liederlich Leute a?

'Well said, my hearty Captain!' cried Glossin, endeavouring to catch the
tone of revelry,--

    'Gin by pailfuls, wine in rivers,
     Dash the window-glass to shivers!
        For three wild lads were we, brave boys,
        And three wild lads were we;
        Thou on the land, and I on the sand,
        And Jack on the gallows-tree!

That's it, my bully-boy! Why, you're alive again now! And now let us talk
about our business.'

'YOUR business, if you please,' said Hatteraick. 'Hagel and donner! mine
was done when I got out of the bilboes.'

'Have patience, my good friend; I'll convince you our interests are just
the same.'

Hatteraick gave a short dry cough, and Glossin, after a pause, proceeded.

'How came you to let the boy escape?'

'Why, fluch and blitzen! he was no charge of mine. Lieutenant Brown gave
him to his cousin that's in the Middleburgh house of Vanbeest and
Vanbruggen, and told him some goose's gazette about his being taken in a
skirmish with the land-sharks; he gave him for a footboy. Me let him
escape! the bastard kinchin should have walked the plank ere I troubled
myself about him.'

'Well, and was he bred a foot-boy then?'

'Nein, nein; the kinchin got about the old man's heart, and he gave him
his own name, and bred him up in the office, and then sent him to India;
I believe he would have packed him back here, but his nephew told him it
would do up the free trade for many a day if the youngster got back to
Scotland.'

'Do you think the younker knows much of his own origin now?'

'Deyvil!' replied Hatteraick, 'how should I tell what he knows now? But
he remembered something of it long. When he was but ten years old he
persuaded another Satan's limb of an English bastard like himself to
steal my lugger's khan--boat--what do you call it? to return to his
country, as he called it; fire him! Before we could overtake them they
had the skiff out of channel as far as the Deurloo; the boat might have
been lost.'

'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 VI
     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 VII
     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.