Rob Roy

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ROB ROY.

BY THE

AUTHOR OF " WAVERLEY," " GUY MANNERING," AND
« THE ANTIQUARY."

For why ? Because the good old rule
Sufficeth them ; the simple plan,
That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep who can.

Rob Roy's Grave Woedsworte.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

THIRD EDITION.

EDINBURGH :

Printed by James Ballantyne and Co.

FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. EDINBURGH j AND

LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN,

LONDON.

1818.

)5I

<Z2 3

4

ROB ROY.

VOL. II.

ROB ROY-

CHAPTER I.

Yon lamp its line of quivering light

Shoots from my lady's bower ;
But why should Beauty's lamp be bright

At midnight's lonely hour ?

Old Ballad.

Our mode of life at Osbaldistone-Hall was
too uniform to admit of description. Diana
Vernon and I enjoyed much of our time in
our mutual studies ; the rest of the family
killed theirs in such sports and pastimes as
suited the seasons, in which we also took our
share. My uncle was a man of habits, and
by habit became so much accustomed to my
presence and mode of life, that, upon the
whole, he was rather fond of me than other-

4 HOB ROY.

wise. I might probably have risen yet high-
er in his good graces, had I employed the
same arts for that purpose which were used
by Rashleigh, who, availing himself of his
father's disinclination to business, had gra-
dually insinuated himself into the manage-
ment of his property. But although I readily
gave my uncle the advantage of my pen and
my arithmetic so often as he desired to cor-
respond with a neighbour, or settle with a
tenant, and was, in so far, a more useful
inmate in his family than any of his sons,
yet I was not willing to oblige Sir Hilde-
brand, by relieving him entirely from the
management of his own affairs ; so that,
while the good knight admitted that nevoy
Frank was a steady, handy lad, he seldom
failed to remark in the same breath, that
he did not think he should ha missed Rash-
leigh so much as he was like to do.

As it is particularly unpleasant to reside
in a family where we are at variance with
any part of it, I made some efforts to over-
come the ill-will w.hich my cousins enter-

ROB ROY. O

tained against me. I exchanged my laced
hat for a jockey- cap, and made some pro-
gress in their opinion ; I broke a young colt
in a manner which carried me further into
their good graces. A bet or two oppor-
tunely lost to Dickon, and an extra health
pledged with Percie, placed me on an easy
and familiar footing with all the young
squires except Thorncliff.

I have already noticed the dislike enter-
tained against me by this young fellow, who,
as he had rather more sense, had also a much
worse temper than any of his brethren. Sul-
len, dogged, and quarrelsome, he regarded
my residence at Osbaldistone-Hall as an in-
trusion, and viewed, with envious and jea-
lous eyes, my intimacy with Diana Vernon,
whom the effect proposed to be given to a
certain family- compact, assigned to him as
an intended spouse. That he loved her could
scarcely be said, at least without much mis-
application of the word ; but he regarded
her as something appropriated to himself,
and resented internally the interference

O ROB IiOY.

which he knew not how to prevent or in-
terrupt. I attempted a tone of conciliation
towards Thorncliff on several occasions ;
but he rejected my advances with a man-
ner about as gracious as that of a growling
mastiff, when the animal shuns and resents
a stranger's attempts to caress him. I there-
fore abandoned him to his ill-humour, and
gave myself no farther trouble about the
matter.

Such was the footing upon which I stood
with the family at Osbaldistone-Hall ; but
I ought to mention another of its inmates
with whom I occasionally held some dis-
course. This was Andrew Fairservice, the
gardener, who (since he had discovered that
I was a protestant), rarely suffered me to
pass him without proffering his Scotch mull
for a social pinch. There were several ad-
vantages attended this courtesy. In the
first place, it was made at no expense, for
I never used snuff; and, secondly, it af-
forded an excellent apology to Andrew
(who was not particularly fond of hard la-

ROB ROY. 7

bour) for laying aside his spade for several
minutes. But, above all, these brief inter-
views gave Andrew an opportunity of vent-
ing the news he had collected, or the sati-
rical remarks which his shrewd northern
humour suggested.

" I am saying, sir," he said to me one
evening, with a face obviously charged with
intelligence, " 1 hae been doun at the
Trinlay-knowe."

<c Well, Andrew, and I suppose you heard
some news at the ale-house ?"

"Na, sir; I never gang to the yill-house —
that is, unless ony neighbour was to gie me
a pint, or the like o' that \ but to gang there
on ane's ain coat-tail, is a waste o1 precious
time and hard-won siller. — But I was doun
at the Trinlay-knowe, as I was saying, about
a wee bit business o' my ain wi' Mattie
Simpson, that wants a forpit or twa o' peers,
that will never be missed in the Ha" house
— and when we were at the thransjest o' our
bargain, wha suld come in but Pate Mac-
ready the travelling merchant."

" Pedlar, I suppose you mean ?"

8 ROB ROY.

" E'en as your honour likes to ca' him ;
but it's a creditable calling and a gainfu',
and has been lang in use wi' our folk —
Pate's a far-awa cousin o' mine, and we were
bl) the to meet wi' ane another."

" And you went and had a jug of ale to-
gether, I suppose, Andrew? — ForHeavtn's
sake, cut short your story."

" Bide a wee-— -bide a wee; you southerns
are aye in sic a hurry, and this is something
concerns yoursell, an ye wad tak patience
to hear't — Yill ? — deil a drap o' yill did Pate
offer me ; but Mattie gae us baith a drap
skimmed milk, and ane o' her thick ait jan-
nocks, that was as wat and raw as a divot—
O for the bonnie girdle cakes o' the North !
—and sae we sate doun and took out our
clavers."

" I wish you would take them out just
now. Pray, tell me the news, if you have
got any worth telling, for I can't stop here
all night."

" Than, if ye maun hae't, the folk in Lun-
nun are a' clean wud about this bit job in
the north here."

ROB ROY. 9

" Clean wood ! what's that ?"

" Ou, just real daft — neither to haud nor
to bind— a' hirdy-girdy— clean through ither
— the deil's ower Joek Wabster."

" But what does all this mean ? or what
business have I with the deil or Jack Web-
ster ?"

" Umph!" said Andrew, looking extreme-
ly knowing, " it's just because — just that
the dirdum's a' about yon man's pokmanty."

" Whose portmanteau ? or what do you
mean ?"

" Ou, just the man Morris's, that he said
he lost yonder ; but if its no your honour's
affair, as little is it mine ; and I maunna
lose this gracious evening."

And, as if suddenly seized with a violent
fit of industry, Andrew began to labour
most diligently.

My attention, as the crafty knave had
foreseen, was now arrested, and unwilling,
at the same time, to acknowledge any par-
ticular interest in that affair, by asking di-
rect questions, I stood waiting till the spirit
A 2

10 ROB ROY.

of voluntary communication should again
prompt him to resume his story. Andrew
dug on manfully, and spoke at intervals,
but nothing to the purpose of Mr Macrea-
dy's news, and I stood and listened, cursing
him in my heart, and desirous, at the same
time, to see how long his humour of con.
tradiction would prevail over his desire of
speaking upon the subject, which was ob-
viously uppermost in his mind.

" Am trenching up the sparry-grass, and
am gaun to saw sum Misegun beans 5 they
winna want them to their swine's flesh, Pse
warrant — muckle gude may it do them.
And siclike dung as the grieve has gi'en
me ; it should be wheat-strae, or aiten at
the warst o't, and its pease-dirt, as fissenless
as chuckie-stanes. But the huntsman guides
a' as he likes about the stable-yard, and he's
selled the best of the litter, I'se warrant. But
howsomever, we maunna lose a turn o* this
Saturday at e'en, for the wather's sair bro-
ken, and if there's a fair day in seven, Sun-
day's sure to come and lick it up — How-
6

ROB ROY, 11

somever, I'm no denying that it may settle,
if it be Heaven's will, till Monday morning,
and what's the use o' my breaking my back
at this rate — 1 think, I'll e'en awa' name, for
yon's the curfew, as they ca' their jowing-
in bell."

Accordingly, applying both his hands to
his spade, he pitched it upright in the
trench which he had been digging, and
looking at me with the air of superiority of
one who knows himself possessed of impor-
tant information, which he may communi-
cate or refuse at his pleasure, pulled down
the sleeves of his shirt, and walked slowly
towards his coat, which lay carefully folded
up upon a neighbouring garden-seat.

" I must pay the penalty for having in-
terrupted the tiresome rascal," thought I to
myself, <c and even gratify Mr Fairservice
by taking his communication on his own
terms." Then raising my voice, I address-
ed him. " And after all, Andrew, what
are these London news you had from your
kinsman, the travelling merchant ?"

\% ROB ROY.

" The pedlar, your honour means ?" re-
torted Andrew — " but ca' him what ye
wull, they're a great convenience in a coun-
try, side that's scant o' borough towns, like
this Northumberland — That's no the case
now, in Scotland — There's the kingdom o'
Fife, frae Borrowstownness to the east
nook, it's just like a great combined city —
Sae mony royal boroughs yoked on end to
end, like ropes of ingans, with their hie-,
streets, and their booths, nae doubt, and
their craemes, and houses of stane and lime
and forestairs — Kirkaldy the sell o't is lan-
ger than ony town in England."

" I dare say it is all very splendid and
very fine — but you were talking of the
London news a little while ago, Andrew."

" Ay," replied Andrew ; " but I didna
think your honour cared to hear about
them — howsoever," (he continued, grinning
a ghastly smile,) Pate Macready does say,
that they are sail mistrysted yonder in their
Parliament-House about this rubbery o' Mr
Morris, or whatever they ca' the chiel."

ROB ROY. 13

" In the House of Parliament, Andrew !
How came they to mention it there ?"

" Ou, that's just what I said to Pate ; if it
like your honour, 111 tell you the very
words ; its no worth making a lie for the
matter — ' Pate,' said I, * what ado had the
lords and lairds and gentles at Lunnun wi'
the carle and his walise I — When we had a
Scots Parliament, Pate,' says I, (and deil
rax their thrapples that reft us o't,) * they
sate dousely down and made laws for a hale
country and kinrick, and never fashed their
beards about things that were competent
to the judge ordinar o* the bounds \ but
I think,' said I, * that if ae kail-wife pou'd
affher neighbour's mutch, they wad hae the
twasome o' them into the Parliament- House
o' Lunnun. It's just,' said I, 'amaist as silly
as our auld daft laird here and his gomerils
o' sons, wi' his huntsman and his hounds,
and his hunting cattle and horns, riding hale
days after a bit beast that winna weigh sax
punds when they hae catched it."

" You argued most admirably, Andrew,'"

14 ROB ROY,

said I, willing to encourage him to get into
the marrow of his intelligence ; " and what
said Pate ?"

" Ou, he said, what better cou'd be ex-
pected of a wheen pock-pudding English
folk ? — But as to the rubbery, it's like that
when they're a' at the thrang o' their Whig
and Tory wark, and ca'ing ane anither, like
unhanged blackguards — up gets ae lang-
tongued chield, and he says, that a' the
north of England were rank Jacobites, (and,
quietly; he was na far wrang maybe) and
that they had levied amaist open war, and
a king's messenger had been stoppit and
rubbit on the highway, and that the best
bluid o' Northumberland had been at the
doing o't — and mickle gowd ta'en aff him,
and mony valuable papers ; and that there
was nae redress to be gotten by remeed of
law, for the first justice o' the peace that the
rubbit man gaed to, he had fund the twa
loons that did the deed billing and drink-
ing wi' him, wha but they ; and the justice
took the word o' the tane for the compear-

ROB ROY. 15

ance o' the tither ; and that they e'en gae
him leg-bail, and the honest man that had
lost his siller, was fain to leave the country
for fear waur had come of it."

" Can this be really true ?" said I.

" Pate swears it's as true as that his el-
wand is a yard lang — (and so it is, just ba-
ting an inch, that it may meet the English
measure) — And when the chield had said
his warst, there was a terrible cry for names,
and out brings he wi' this man Morris's
name, and your uncle's, and Squire Ingle-
wood's, and other folks beside," (looking
sly at me) — " And then another dragon o'
a chield got up on the other side, and said,
wad they accuse the best gentlemen in the
land on the oath of a broken coward, for
its like that Morris had been drummed out
o' the army for rinning awa' in Flanders ;
and he said, it was like the story had been
made up between the minister and him or
ever he had left Lunnun ; and that, if there
was to be a search-warrant granted, he
thought the siller wad be found some gait

16 ROB ROY.

near to St James's Palace. Aweel, they
trailed up Morris to their bar, as they ca't,
to see what he could say to the job, but the
folk that were again him, gae him sic an
awfu' through-gaun about his rinnin awa,
and about a' the ill he had ever dune or
said for a' the forepart o' his life, that Pa-
tie says, he looked mair like ane dead than
living ; and they cou'dna get a word o' sense
out o' him, for downright fright at their
gowling and routing. — He maun be a saft
sap, wi' a head nae better than a fozy frost-
ed turnip — it wad hae ta'en a hantle o'
them to scaur Andrew Fairservice out o'
his tale."

" And how did it all end, Andrew ? did
your friend happen to learn ?"

" Ou, ay ; for as his walk's in this conn-
try, Pate put aff his journey for the space of
a week or thereby, because it wad be ac-
ceptable to his customers to bring doun the
news. It just a' gaed afTlike moonshine iu
water. The fellow that began it drew in
his horns and said, that though he believed

ROB ROY. 17

the man had been rubbit, yet he acknow-
ledged he might hae been mista'en about the
particulars. And then the ither chield got
up, and said, he cared na whether Morris
was rubbit or no, provided it wasna to be-
come a stain on ony gentleman's honour
and reputation, especially in the north of
England ; for, said he before them, I come
frae the north my sell, and I carena a boddle
wha kens it. And this is what they ca'
explaining — the tane gies up a bit, and the
tither gies up a bit, and a' friends again.
Aweel, after the Commons' Parliament had
tuggit, and rived, and ruggit at Morris
and his rubbery till they wrere tired o't,
the Lords' Parliament they behoved to hae
their spell o't. In puir auld Scotland's
Parliament they a' sate thegither, cheek for
choul, and than they did na need to hae
the same blethers twice ower again. But
till't their lordships gaed wi' as muckle teeth
and gude will, as if the matter had been a'
speck and span new. Forbye, there was
something said about ane Campbell, that

18 ROB ROY.

suld hae been concerned in the rubbery,
mair or less, and that he suld hae had a
warrant frae the Duke of Argyle, as a tes-
timonial o' his character. And this put
MacCallummore's beard in a bleize, as gude
reason there was ; and he gat up wi' an
unco bang, and gar'd them a' look about
them, and wad ram it even doun their
throats, there was never ane o' the Camp*
bells but was as wight, wise, warlike, and
worthy trust, as auld Sir John the Grseme.
Now, if your honour's sure ye are na a
drap's blude a-kin to a Campbell, as I am
nane mysell, sae far as I can count my kin,
or hae had it counted to me, I'll gie you
my mind on that matter."

" You may be assured I have no connec-
tion whatever with any gentleman of the
name.'*

" Ou, than we may speak it quietly amang
oursells. — There's baith gude and bad o:
the Campbells, like other names. But this
MacCallummore has an unco sway and say
baith amang the grit folk at Lunnun just

ROB ROY. 19

now ; for he canna precesely be said to be-
lang to ony o' the twa sides o' them, sae
deil ane o' them likes to quarrel wi' him ;
sae they e'en voted Morris's tale a fause
calumnious libel, as they ca't, and if he
hadna gi'en them leg-bail, he was likely to
hae taen the air on the pillory for leasing-
making."

So speaking, honest Andrew collected
his dibbles, spades, and hoes, and threw
them into a wheel-barrow, leisurely, how-
ever, and allowing me full time to put any
farther questions which might occur to me
before he trundled them off to the tool-
house, there to repose during the ensuing
day. I thought it best to speak out at once,
lest this meddling fellow should suppose
there was more weighty reason for my si-
lence than actually existed.

" I should like to see this countryman of
yours, Andrew ; and to hear his news from
himself directly. You have probably heard
that I had some trouble from the imperti-
nent folly of this man Morris," (Andrew

20 ROB ROY.

grinned a most significant grin) ; " and I
should wish to see your cousin the mer-
chant, to ask him the particulars of what
he heard in London, if it could be done
without much trouble."

" Naething mair easy," Andrew obser-
ved ; u he had but to hint to his cousin that
I wanted a pair or twa o' hose, and he wad
be wi' me as last as lie could lay leg to the
grund."

" O yes, assure him I shall be a custom-
er ; and as the night is, as you say, set-
tled and fair, I shall walk in the garden
until he comes ; the moon will soon rise
over the fells. You may bring him to the
little back gate ; and I shall have pleasure,
in the meanwhile, in looking on the bushes
and evergreens by the bright frosty moon-
light."

V Vara right — vara right — that's what I
hae aften said ; a kail-blade, or a colliflouiy
glances sae glegly by moon-light, it's like a
leddy in her diamonds."

So saying, off went Andrew Fairservice

ROB ROY. 21

with great glee. He had to watt: about two
miles, a labour he undertook wif h the great-
est pleasure, in order to secure his kinsman
the sale of some articles of his trade, though
it is probable he would not have given six-
pence to treat him to a quart of ale. The
good-will of an Englishman would have
displayed itself in a manner exactly the re-
verse of Andrew's, thought I, as I paced
along the smooth cut velvet walks, which,
embowered with high hedges of yew and
of holly, intersected the ancient garden of
Osbaldistone-Hall.

As I turned to retrace my steps, it was na-
tural that I should lift up my eyes to the win-
dows of the old library \ which, small in size,
but several in number, stretched along the
second story of that side of the house which
now faced me. Light glanced from their
casements. I was not surprised at this, for
I knew Miss Vernon often sate there of an
evening, though from motives of delicacy
I put a strong restraint upon myself, and
never sought to join her at a time when I
knew, all the rest of the family being en-

22 ROB ROY.

ga^ed for the evening, our interviews must
necessarily have been strictly tetea-tite. In
the mornings we usually read together in
the same room ; but then it often happened
that one or other of our cousins entered to
seek some parchment duodecimo that could
be converted into a fishing-book, despite its
gildings and illumination, or to tell us of
some " sport toward," or from mere want
of knowing where else to dispose of them-
selves. In short, in the mornings the li-
brary was a sort of public-room, w7here man
and woman might meet as on neutral ground.
In the evening it was very different ; and,
bred in a country where much attention
is paid, or was at least then paid, to bien-
seance, I was desirous to think for Miss
Vernon concerning those points of pro-
priety where her experience did not afford
her the means of thinking for herself. I
made her therefore comprehend, as deli-
cately as I could, that when we had evening
lessons, the presence of a third party was
proper.

Miss Vernon first laughed, then blushed,

ROB ROY. 23

and was disposed to be displeased ; and then,
suddenly checking herself, said, " I believe
you are very right ; and when I feel incli-
ned to be a very busy scholar, I will bribe
old Martha with a cup of tea to sit by me
and be my screen."

Martha, the old housekeeper, partook of
the taste of the family at the Hall. A toast
and tankard would have pleased her better
than all the tea in China. However, as the
use of this beverage was then confined to
the higher ranks, Martha felt some vanity in
being asked to partake of it ; and by dint
of a great deal of sugar, many words scarce
less sweet, and abundance of toast and but-
ter, she was sometimes prevailed upon to .
give us her countenance. Upon other oc-
casions, the servants almost unanimously
shunned the library after night-fall, because
it was their foolish pleasure to believe that
it lay on the haunted side of the house.
The more timorous had seen sights and
heard sounds there when all the rest of
the house was quiet ; and even the young

24* ROB ROY.

squires were far from having any wish to
enter these formidable precincts after night-
fall without necessity.

That the library had at one time been a
favourite resource of Rashleigh, — that a
private door out of one side of it commu-
nicated with the sequestered and remote
apartment which he chose for himself, ra-
ther increased than disarmed the terrors
wrich the household had for the dreaded
library of Osbaldistone-Hall. His extensive
information as to what passed in the world,
— his profound knowledge of science of
every kind, — a few physical experiments
which he occasionally shewed off, were, in
a house of so much ignorance and bigotry,
esteemed good reasons for supposing him en-
dowed with powers over the spiritual world.
He understood Greek, Latin, and Hebrew ;
ana, therefore, according to the apprehen-
sion, and in the phrase, of his brother Wil-
fred, needed not to care " for ghaist or bar-
ghaist, devil or dobbie." Yea, the servants
persisted that they had heard him hold con-
10

ROB ROY. 25

versations in the library, when every versal
soul in the family were gone to bed ; and
that he spent the night in watching for
bogles, and the morning in sleeping in his
bed, when he should have been heading the
hounds like a true Osbaidistone.

All these absurd rumours I had heard in
broken hints and imperfect sentences, from
which I was left to draw the inference;
and, as easily may be supposed, I laughed
them to scorn. But the extreme solitude
to which this chamber of evil fame was
committed every night after curfew time,
was an additional reason why I should not
intrude on Miss Vernon when she chose to
sit there in an evening.

To resume what I was saying, I was not
surprised to see a glimmering of light from
the library windows ; but I was a little
struck when I distinctly perceived the sha-
dow of two persons pass along and intercept
the light from the first of the windows,
throwing the casement for a moment into

VOL. II. B

26 ROB ROY.

shade. It must be old Martha, thought 1,
whom Diana has engaged to be her com-
panion for the evening, or I must have been
mistaken, and taken Diana's shadow for a
second person. No, by Heaven ! it appears
on the second window, — two figures dis-
tinctly traced ; and now it is lost again —
it is seen on the third — on the fourth — the
darkened forms of two persons distinctly
seen in each window as they pass along the
room, betwixt the windows and the lights.
Whom can Diana have got for a compa-
nion ? — The passage of the shadows be-
tween the lights and the casements was
twice repeated, as if to satisfy me that my
observation served me truly ; after which
the lights were extinguished, and the shades,
of course, were seen no more.

Trifling as this circumstance was, it oc-
cupied my mind for a considerable time.
I did not allow myself to suppose, that my
friendship for Miss Vernon had any direct-
ly selfish view ; yet it is incredible the dis-
pleasure I felt at the idea of her admitting

KOB ROY. &7

any one to private interviews at a time,
and in a place, where, for her own sake, I
had been at some trouble to shew her, that
it was improper for me to meet with her.

" Silly, romping, incorrigible girl!" said
I to myself, " on whom all good advice and
delicacy are thrown away. I have been
cheated by the simplicity of her manner,
which I suppose she can assume just as she
could a straw-bonnet, were it the fashion,
for the mere sake of celebrity. I suppose,
notwithstanding the excellence of her un-
derstanding, the society of half a dozen of
clowns to play at whisk and swabbers would
give her more pleasure than if Ariosto him-
self were to awake from the dead."

This reflection came the more powerful-
ly across my mind, because, having mus-
tered up courage to shew to Diana my
version of the first books of Ariosto, I had
requested her to invite Martha to a tea-
party in the library that evening, to which
arrangement Miss Vernon had refused her
consent, alleging some apology which 1

28 ROB ROY.

thought frivolous at the time. I had not
long speculated on this disagreeable sub-
ject, when the back garden-door opened,
and the figures of Andrew and his country-
man, bending under his pack, crossed the
moonlight alley, and called my attention
elsewhere.

I found Mr Macready, as I expected, a
tough, sagacious, long-headed Scotchman,
and a collector of news both from choice
and profession. He was able to give me a
distinct account of what had passed both
in the House of Commons and House of
Lords upon the affair of Morris, which, it
appears, had been made by both parties a
touchstone to ascertain the temper of the
Parliament. It appeared also, that, as I
had learned from Andrew by second hand,
the ministry had proved too weak to sup-
port a story, involving the character of men
of rank and importance, and resting upon
the credit of a person of such indifferent
fame as Morris, who was, moreover, con-
fused and contradictory in his mode of

ROB ROY. 29

telling the story. Macready was even able
to supply me with a copy of a printed jour-
nal, or News-Letter, seldom extending be-
yond the capital, in which the substance of
the debate was mentioned ; and with a co-
py of the Duke of Argyle's speech, printed
upon a broadside, of which he had pur-
chased several from the hawkers, because, he
said,itwould be a saleable articleon thenorth
of the Tweed. The first was a meagre state-
ment, full of blanks and asterisks, and which
added little or nothing to the information I
had from the Scotchman ; and the Duke's
speech, though spirited and eloquent, con-
tained chiefly a panegyric on his country,
his family, and his clan, with a few compli-
ments, equally sincere, perhaps, though less
glowing, which he took so favourable an
opportunity of paying to himself. I could
not learn whether my own reputation had
been directly implicated, although I per-
ceived that the honour of my uncle's fami-
ly had been impeached, and that this per-
son Campbell, stated by Morris to have

30 ROB ROY*

been the most active robber of the two by
whom he was assailed, was said by him to
have appeared in the behalf of aMrOsbaldis-
tone, and, by the connivance of the Justice,
procured his liberation. In this particular,
Morris's story jumped with my own sus-
picions, which had attached to Campbell
from the moment I saw him appear at Jus-
tice Inglevvood's. Vexed upon the whole,
as well as perplexed with this extraordinary
story, I dismissed the two Scotchmen, after
making some purchases from Macready,
and a small compliment to Fairservice, and
retired to my own apartment to consider
what I ought to do in defence of my cha-
racter, thus publicly attacked.

ROB ROW SI

CHAPTER II.

Whence, and what art thou ?

Milton.

After exhausting a sleepless night in
meditating on the intelligence I had recei-
ved, I was at first inclined to think that I
ought, as speedily as possible, to return to
London, and by my open appearance to
repel the calumny which had been spread
against me. But I hesitated to take this
course on recollection of my father's dispo-
sition, singularly absolute in his decisions
as to all that concerned his family. He was
most able certainly, from experience, to di-
rect what I ought to do, and from his ac-
quaintance with the most distinguished

32 ROB ROY.

Whigs then in power, had the full capacity
of obtaining a hearing for my cause. So,
upon the whole, I judged it most safe to
state my whole story in the shape of a nar-
rative, addressed to my father ; and as the
ordinary opportunities of intercourse be-
tween the Hall and the post recurred rare-
ly, I determined to ride over myself to the
town, which was about ten miles distance,
and deposit my letter in the post-office
with my own hands.

Indeed I began to think it strange, that
though several weeks had elapsed since my
departure from home, I had received no
letter, either from my father or Owen, al-
though Rashleigh had written to Sir Hil-
debrand of his safe arrival in London, and
of the kind reception he had met with
from his uncle. Admitting that I might
have been to blame, I did not deserve, in
my own opinion at least, to be so totally
forgotten by my father ; and I thought
my present excursion might have the ef-
fect of bringing a letter from him to hand

ROB ROY. 33

more early than it would otherwise have
reached me. But before concluding my
letter concerning the affair of Morris, I
failed not to express my earnest hope and
wish that my father would honour me with
a few lines, were it but to express his ad-
vice and commands in an affair of some
difficulty, and where my knowledge of life
could not be supposed adequate to my own
guidance. I found it impossible to prevail
on myself to urge my actual return to Lon-
don as a place of residence, and I disguised
my unwillingness to do so under apparent
submission to my father's will, which, as I
imposed it on myself as a sufficient reason
for not urging my final departure from Os-
baldistone-Hall, would, I doubted not, be
received as such by my parent. But I
begged permission to come to London, for
a short time at least, to meet and refute
the infamous calumnies, which had been
circulated concerning me in so public a
manner. Having made up my packet, in
wh.ch my earnest desire to vindicate rqy
b 2

34; ROB ROY.

character was strangely blended with reluc-
tance to quit my present place of residence,
I rode over to the post-town, and deposited
my letter in the office. By doing so, I ob-
tained possession, somewhat earlier than I
should otherwise have done, of the follow-
ing letter from my friend Mr Owen.

" Dear Mr Francis,
" Your's received per favour of Mr R,
Osbaldistone, and note the contents. Shall
do Mr R. O. such civilities as are in my
power, and have taken him to see the Bank
and Custom-house. He seems a sober,
steady young gentleman, and takes to busi-
ness ; so will be of service to the firm.
Could have wished another person had
turned his mind that way, but God's will be
done. As cash may be scarce in those
parts, have to trust you will excuse my in-
closing a goldsmith's bill at six day's sight,
on Messrs Hooper and Girder of Newcastle,
for £ 100, which I doubt not will be duly-
honoured* — I remain, as in duty bound,

ROB ROY. 35

dear Mr Frank, your very respectful and
obedient servant,

" Joseph Owen.'*

" Postscriptum. — Hope you will advise
the above coming safe to hand. Am sorry
we have so few of yours. Your father says
he is as usual, but looks poorly.'5

From this epistle, written in old Owen*s
formal style, I was rather surprised to ob-
serve that he made no acknowledgment of
that private letter which I had written to
him, with a view to possess him of Rash-
Ieigt/s real character, although, from the
course of post, it seemed certain that he
ought to have received it. Yet I had sent
it by the usual conveyance from the Hall,
and had no reason to suspect that it could
miscarry upon the road. As it comprised
matters of great importance, both to my
father and to myself, I sat dawn in the
post-office, and again wrote to Owen, re-
capitulating the heads of my former letter*

36 BOB ROY.

and requesting to know, in course of post,
if it had reached him in safety. I also ac-
knowledged the receipt of the bill, and
promised to make use of the contents, if I
should have any occasion for money. I
thought, indeed, it was odd that my father
should leave the care of supplying my ne-
cessities to his clerk ; but I concluded it
was a matter arranged between them. At
any rate, Owen was a bachelor, rich in his
way, and passionately attached to me, so
that I had no hesitation in being obliged to
him for a small sum, which I resolved to
consider as a loan, to be returned with my
earliest ability, in case it was not previous-
ly repaid by my father ; and I expressed
myself to this purpose to Mr Owen. A
shop-keeper in the little town, to whom the
post-master directed me, readily gave me
in gold the amount of my bill on Messrs
Hooper and Girder, so that I returned to
Osbaldistone-Hall a good deal richer than
I had set forth. This recruit to my finances
was not a matter of indifference to me, as

9

ROB ROY. 37

I was necessarily involved in some ex-
penses at Osbaldistone-Hall ; and I bad
seen, with some uneasy impatience, that
the sum which my travelling expenses had
left unexhausted at my arrival there, was
imperceptibly diminishing. This source of
anxiety was for the present removed. On
my arrival at the Hall, I found Sir Hilde-
brand and all his offspring had gone down
to the little hamlet, called Trinlay-Knowes,
" to see," as Andrew Fairservice express-
ed it, " a wheen midden-cocks pike ilk
ithers harns out."

" It is, indeed, a brutal amusement, An-
drew ; I suppose you have none such in
Scotland ?"

" Na, na," answered Andrew boldly j
then shaded away his negative with, " un-
less it be on Fastern's-e'en, or the like o'
that — But indeed it's no muckle matter
what the folk do to the midden pootry,
for they haud siccan a skarting and scra-
ping in the yard, that there's nae getting a
bean or a pea keepit for them. — But I am

38 ItOB ROY.

wondering what it is that leaves that turret-
door open ; now that Mr Rashleigh's away,
it canna be him, I trow."

The turret-door, to which he alluded,
opened to the garden at the bottom of a
winding-stair, leading down from Mr Rash-
leigh's apartment. This, as I have already
mentioned, was situated in a sequestered
part of the house, communicating with the
library by a private entrance, and by an-
other intricate and dark vaulted passage
with the rest of the house. A long narrow
turf- walk led, between two high holly hedges,
from the turret-door to a little postern in
the wall of the garden. By means of these
communications, Rashleigh, whose move-
ments were very independent of those of
the rest of his family, could leave the Hall
or return to it at pleasure, without his ab-
sence or presence attracting any observa-
tion. But during his absence the stair and
the turret-door were entirely disused, and
this made Andrew's observation somewhat
remarkable.

ROB ROY. 39

" Have you often observed that door
open ?" was my question.

" No just that often neither ; but I hae
noticed it ance or twice — I'm thinking it
maun hae been the priest, Father Vaughan,
as they ca' him. Ye'll no catch ane o' the
servants ganging up that stair, puir fright-
ened heathens that they are, for fear o'
bogles, and brownies, and lang nebbit
things frae the neist warld. But Father
Vaughan thinks himself a privileged per-
son — set him up and lay him down ! — Pse
be caution the warst stibbler that ever
stickit a sermon out ower the Tweed yon-
der, wad lay a ghaist twice as fast as him,
wi' his holy water and his idolatrous trin-
kets. I dinna believe he speaks gude La-
tin neither ; at least he disna take me up
when I tell him the learned names of the
plants."

Of Father Vaughan, who divided his
time and his ghostly care between Osbaldis-
tone-Hall, and about half a dozen mansions
of catholic gentlemen in the neighbourhood,

40 £OB ROT.

I have as yet said nothing, for I had seen
but little. He was aged about sixty, of a
good family, as I was given to understand,
in the north ; of a striking and imposing
presence, grave in his exterior, and much
respected among the catholics of Northum-
berland, as a worthy and upright man, Yet
Father Vaughan did not altogether lack
those peculiarities which distinguish his or-
der. There hung about him an air of mys-
tery, which, in protestant eyes, savoured of
priestcraft. The natives (such they might
be well termed) of Osbahiistone-Hall, look-
ed up to him with much more fear, or at least
more awre, than affection. His condemna-
tion of their revels was evident, from their
being discontinued in some measure when
the priest was a resident at the Hall. Even
Sir Hildebrand himself put some restraint
upon his conduct at such times, which, per-
haps, rendered Father Vaughan's presence
rather irksome than otherwise. He had the
well-bred, insinuating, and almost flattering
address, peculiar to the clergy of his persua-

ROB ROY. 41

sion, especially in England, where the lay
catholic, hemmed in by penal laws, and by
the restrictions of his sect and recommen-
dation of his pastor, often exhibits a re-
served, and almost a timid manner, in the
society of protestants ; while the priest, pri-
vileged by his order to mingle with persons
of all creeds, is open, alert, and liberal in
his intercourse with them, desirous of po-
pularity, and usually skilful in the mode o^
obtaining it.

Father Vaughan was a particular ac-
quaintance of Rashleigh's, otherwise, in all
probability, he would scarce have been able
to maintain his footing at Osbaldistone-
Hall. This gave me no desire to cultivate
his intimacy, nor did he seem to make any
advances towards mine ; so our occasional
intercourse was confined to the exchange
of mere civility. 1 considered it as extreme-
ly probable that Mr Vaughan might oc-
cupy llashleigh's apartment during his oc-
casional residence at the Hall ; and his pro-

42 ROB ROY.

fession rendered it likely that he should oc-
casionally be a tenant of the library. No-
thing was more probable than that it might
have been his candle which had excited my
attention on a preceding evening. This
led me involuntarily to recollect that the
intercourse between Miss Vernen and the
priest was marked with something like the
same mystery which characterized her com-
munications with Rashleigh. I had never
heard her mention Vaughan's name, or even
allude to him, excepting on the occasion of
our first meeting, when she mentioned the
old priest and Rashleigh as the only con-
versible beings, besides herself, in Osbal-
distone-Hall. Yet although silent with re-
spect to Father Vaughan, his arrival at the
Hall never failed to impress Miss Vernon
with an anxious and fluttering tremor,
which lasted until they had exchanged one
or two significant glances.

Whatever the mystery might be which
overclouded the destinies of this beautiful

HOB ROY. 43

and interesting female, it was clear that Fa*
ther Vaughan was implicated in it ; unless,
indeed, I could suppose that he was the
agent employed to procure her settlement
in the cloister, in the event of her rejecting
a union with either of my cousins, — an of-
fice which would sufficiently account for
her obvious emotion at his appearance. As
to the rest, they did not seem to converse
much together, or even to seek each others
society. Their league, if any subsisted be-
tween them, was of a tacit and understood
nature, operating on their actions without
any necessity of speech. I recollected,
however, on reflection, that I had once or
twice discovered signs pass betwixt them,
which I had at the time supposed to bear
reference to some hint concerning Miss
Vernon's religious observances, knowing
how artfully the catholic clergy maintain,
at all times and seasons, their influence
over the mind of their followers. But now
I was disposed to assign to these commu-
nications a deeper and more mysterious

44 ROB ROY.

import. Did he hold private meetings with
Miss Vernon in the library ? was a ques*-
tion which occupied my thoughts ; and if
so, for what purpose ? And why should she
have admitted an intimate of the deceitful
Rashleigh to such close confidence ?

These questions and difficulties pressed
on my mind with an interest which w7as
greatly increased by the possibility of re-
solving them. I had already begun to sus-
pect that my friendship for Diana Vernon
was not altogether so disinterested as in
wisdom it ought to have been. I had al-
ready felt myself becoming jealous of the
contemptible lout ThornclifF, and taking
more notice, than in prudence or dignity
of feeling I ought to have done, of his
silly attempts to provoke me. And now I
was scrutinizing the conduct of Miss Ver-
non with the most close and eager observa-
tion, which I in vain endeavoured to palm
on myself as the offspring of idle curiosity.
All these, like Benedick's brushing his hat
of a morning, were signs that the sweet

ROB ROY. 45

youth was in love ; and while my judg-
ment still denied that I had been guilty of
forming an attachment so imprudent, she
resembled those ignorant guides, who, when
they have led the traveller and themselves
into irretrievable error, persist in obstinate-
ly affirming it to be impossible that they
can have missed the way.

46 R(*B ROY

CHAPTER III.

* It happened one day about noon, going to my boat, I was
exceedingly surprised with the print of a man's naked
foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen on the
sand."

Robinson Crusoe.

With the blended feelings of interest
and jealousy which were engendered by
Miss Vernon's singular situation, my obser-
vations of her looks and actions beeame
acutely sharpened, and that to a degree,
which, notwithstanding my efforts to con-
ceal it, could not escape her penetration.
The sense that she was observed, or, more
properly speaking, that she was watched by
my looks, seemed to give Diana a mixture
of embarrassment, pain, and pettishness.
At times it seemed that she sought an op-
3

ROB ROY. 47

portunity of resenting a conduct which she
could not but feel as offensive, considering
the frankness with which she had mention-
ed the difficulties that surrounded her.
At other times she seemed prepared to
expostulate upon the subject. But either
her courage failed, or some other senti-
ment impeded her seeking an eclaircisse-
ment. Her displeasure evaporated in re-
partee, and her expostulations died on her
lips. We stood in a singular relation to
each other, spending, and by mutual choice,
much of our time in close society with
each other, yet disguising our mutual sen-
timents, and jealous of, or offended by,
each others actions. There was betwixt
us intimacy without confidence ; on one
side love without hope or purpose, and
curiosity without any rational or justifiable
motive ; and on the other, embarrassment
and doubt, occasionally mingled with dis-
pleasure. Yet I believe that this agitation
of the passions, such is the nature of the
human bosom, as it continued by a thou-

48 ROB ROY.

sand irritating and interesting, though pet-
ty circumstances, to render Miss Vernon
and me the constant objects of each others
thoughts, tended, upon the whole, to in-
crease the attachment with which we were
naturally disposed to regard each other.
But although my vanity early discovered
that my presence at Osbaldistone-Hall had
given Di ana some additional reason for dis-
liking the chister, I could by no means
confide in an affection which seemed com-
pletely subordinate to the mysteries of her
singular situation. Miss Vernon was of a
character far too formed and determined,
to permit her love for me to overpower
either her sense of duty or of prudence,
and she gave me a proof of this in a conver-
sation which we had together about this
period.

We were sitting together in the library
I have so often mentioned. Miss Vernon,
in turning over a copy of the Orlando Fu-
rioso, which belonged to me, shook a piece
of written paper from between the leaves.
I hastened to lift it, but she prevented me.

ROB ROY. 49

" It is verse," she said, on glancing at
the paper ; and then unfolding it, but as if
to wait my answer before proceeding —
" May I take the liberty — nay, if you
blush and stammer, I must do violence to
your modesty, and suppose that permission

is granted,"

" It is not worthy your perusal — a scrap
of a translation — My dear Miss Vernon, it
would be too severe a trial, that you, who
understand the original so well, should sit
in judgment."

" Mine honest friend," replied Diana,
" do not, if you will be guided by my ad-
vice, bait your hook with too much humi-
lity ; for, ten to one, it will not catch a
single compliment. You know I belong to
the unpopular family of Tell- truths, and
would not flatter Apollo for his lyre."

She proceeded to read the first stanza,
which was nearly to the following pur-
pose : —

" Ladies, and knights, and arms, and love's fair flame,
Deeds of emprize and courtesy, I sing ;
VOL. II. C

50 ROB ROY.

What time the Moors from sultry Africk came,
Led on by Agramant, their youthful king —

He whom revenge and hasty ire did bring

O'er the broad wave, in France to waste and war ;

Such ills from old Trojano's death did spring,
Which to avenge he came from realms afar,

And menaced Christian Charles, the Roman Emperor.

" Of dauntless Roland, too, my strain shall sound,
In import never known in prose or rhyme,

How He, the chief of judgment deem'd profound,
For luckless love was crazed upon a time — "

" There is a great deal of it," said she,
glancing along the paper, and interrupting
the sweetest sounds which mortal ears can
drink in, — those of a youthful poet's verses,
namely, read by the lips which are dearest
to them.

" Much more than ought to engage your
attention, Miss Vernon," said I, something
mortified ; and I took the verses from her
unreluctant hand — " and yet," I continued,
" shut up as I am in this retired situation,
I have felt some times I could not amuse
myself better than by carrying on, merely

rob itoy. 51

for my own amusement you will of course
understand, the version of this fascinating
author, which I began some months since,
when I was on the banks of the Garonne."

" The question would only be," said
Diana, gravely, " whether you could not
spend your time to better purpose ?"

" You mean in original composition,1'
said I, greatly flattered ; " but to say truth,
my genius rather lies in finding words and
rhymes than ideas ; and, therefore, I am
happy to use those which Ariosto has pre-
pared to my hand. Howrever, Miss Ver-
non, with the encouragement you give — "

" Pardon me, Frank ; it is encourage-
ment not of my giving, but of your taking.
I meant neither original composition nor
translation, since I think you might em-
ploy your time to far better purpose than
in either. You are mortified," she conti-
nued, " and I am sorry to be the cause."

" Not mortified, — certainly not modi-
fied," said I, (with the best grace I could
muster, and it was but indifferently assti-

LIBRARY

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS

52 ROB ROY.

med ;) " I am too much obliged by the inte-
rest you take in me."

" Nay, but," resumed the relentless Di-
ana, " there is both mortification and a
little grain of anger in that constrained
tone of voice ; do not be angry if I probe
your feelings to the bottom — perhaps what
I am about to say will affect them still
more."

I felt the childishness of my own con-
duct, and the superior manliness of Miss
Vernon's, arid assured her, that she need
not fear my wincing under criticism which
I knew to be kindly meant.

" That was honestly meant and said,"
she replied ; " I knew full well that the
fund of poetical irritability flew away with
the little preluding cough which ushered
in the declaration. And now I must be
serious. — Have you heard from your father
lately ?"

" Not a word," I replied ; " he has not
honoured me with a single line during the
several months of my residence here."

ROB ROY. 53

"-That is strange;.— you are a singular
race, you bold Osbaldistones. Then you
are not aware that he has gone to Holland
to arrange some pressing affairs which re-
quired his own immediate presence ?"

" I never heard a word of it until this
moment."

" And farther, it must be news to you,
and I presume scarcely the most agreeable^
that he has left Rashleigh in the almost un-
controlled management of his affairs until
his return ?"

I started, and could not suppress my sur-
prise and apprehension.

" You have reason for alarm," said Miss
Vernon, very gravely ; " and were I you, I
would endeavour to meet and obviate the
dangers which arise from so undesirable an
arrangement."

" And how is it possible for me to do so?"

" Every thing is possible for him who
possesses courage and activity," said she,
with a look resembling one of those heroines
of the age of chivalry, whose encourage-

54} rob hoy.

ment was wont to give champions double
courage at the hour of need ; " and to the
timid and hesitating every thing is impos-
sible, because it seems so."

" And what would you advise, Miss Ver-
non ?" I replied, wishing, yet dreading to
hear her answer.

She paused a moment, then answered
firmly, — " That you instantly leave Osbal-
distone-Hall, and return to London. You
have perhaps already," she continued, in a
softer tone, " been here too long ; that
fault was not yours. Every succeeding mo-
ment you waste here will be a crime. Yes,
a crime ; for I tell you plainly, that if
Itashleigh long manages your father's af-
fairs, you may consider his ruin as consum-
mated."

" How is this possible ?"

IC Ask no questions," she said ; " but, be-
lieve me, Rashleigh's views extend far be-
yond the possession or increase of commer-
cial wealth : He will only make the com-
mand of Mr Osbaldistone's revenues and

ROB ROY. 55

property the means of putting in motion
his own ambitious and extensive schemesf
While your father was in Britain this was
impossible ; during his absence, Rashieigh
will possess many opportunities, and he w7ill
not neglect to use them."

" But how can I, in disgrace with my fa-
ther, and divested of all controul over his
affairs, prevent this danger by my mere pre-
sence in London ?"

" That presence alone will do much. —
Your claim to interfere is a part of your
birthright, and is inalienable. You will have
the countenance, doubtless, of your father's
head -clerk, and confidential friends and
partners. Above all, Rashleigh's schemes
are of a nature that" — (she stopped abrupt-
ly, as if fearful of saying too much) — " are,
in short," she resumed, " of the nature of
all selfish and unconscientious plans, which
are speedily abandoned so soon as those
who frame them perceive their arts are dis-
covered and watched. Therefore, in the
language of your favourite poet —

1 To horse ! to horse ! urge doubts to those that fear.* "

56 ROB ROY.

A feeling, irresistible in its impulse, in-
duced me to reply, — «6 Ah ! Diana, can you
give me advice to leave Osbaldistone-Hall?
— -then indeed I have already been a resir
dent here too long."

Miss Vernon coloured, but proceeded
with great firmness ; " Indeed, I do give
you this advice — not only to quit Osbaldis-'
tone Hall, but never to return to it more.
You have only one friend to regret here,"
she continued, forcing a smile, " and she
has been long accustomed to sacrifice her
friendships and her comforts to the welfare
of others. In the world you will meet an
hundred whose friendship will be as disin-
terested— more useful — less encumbered
by untowrard circumstances — less influen-
ced by evil tongues and evil times."

" Never !" 1 exclaimed, " Never ! the
world can afford me nothing to repay what
I must leave behind me." Here I took her
hand, and pressed it to my lips.

" This is fully !" she exclaimed — " This
is madness !" and she struggled to withdraw

ROB ROY. 57

her hand from my grasp, but not so stub-
bornly as actually to succeed, until I had
held it for nearly a minute. " Hear me,
sir !" she said, " and curb this unmanly
burst of passion. I am, by a solemn con-
tract, the bride of Heaven, unless I could
prefer being wedded to villainy in the per-
son of Rashleigh Osbaldistone, or brutality
in that of his brother. I am, therefore, the
bride of Heaven, betrothed to the convent
from my cradle. To me, therefore, these
raptures are misapplied — they only serve
to prove a farther necessity for your depar-
ture, and that without delay." At these
words she broke suddenly off, and said, but
in a suppressed tone of voice, " Leave me
instantly — we will meet here again, but it
must be for the last time."

My eyes followed the direction of hers
as she spoke, and I thought I saw the ta-
pestry shake, which covered the door of the
secret passage from RashleigiVs room to
the library. I conceived we were obser-
c 2

58 ROB ROY.

ved, and turned an enquiring glance on
Miss Vernon.

" It is nothing," said she, faintly ; " a
rat behind the arras."

" Dead for a ducat," would have been
my reply, had I dared to give way to the
feelings, which rose indignant at the idea
of being subjected to an eve's-dropper on
such an occasion. Prudence, and the ne-
cessity of suppressing my passion, and
obeying Diana's reiterated command of
" Leave me ! leave me !" came in time to
prevent any rash action. I left the apart-
ment in a wild whirl and giddiness of mind,
which I in vain attempted to compose when
I returned to my own.

A chaos of thoughts intruded themselves
on me at once, passing hastily through my
mind, intercepting and overshadowing each
other, and resembling those fogs which in
mountainous countries are wont to descend
in obscure volumes, and disfigure or obli-
terate the usual marks by which the travel-

ROB ROY. 59

ler steers his course through the wilds.
The dark and undefined idea of danger
arising to my father from the machinations
of such a man as Rashleigh Osbaldistone, —
the half-declaration of love which I had of-
fered to Miss Vernon's acceptance, — the
acknowledged difficulties of her situation,
bound by a previous contract to sacrifice
herself to a cloister, or to an ill-assorted
marriage, — all pressed themselves at once
upon my recollection, while my judgment
was unable deliberately to consider any of
them in its just light and bearings. But
chiefly, and above all the rest, I was per-
plexed by the manner in which Miss Ver-
non had received my tender of affection,
and by her manner, which, fluctuating be-
twixt sympathy and firmness, seemed to in-
timate that I possessed an interest in her
bosom, but not of force sufficient to coun-
terbalance the obstacles to her avowing a
mutual affection. The glance of fear, ra-
ther than surprise, with which she had

60 ROB ROY.

watched the motion of the tapestry over
the concealed door, implied an apprehen-
sion of danger which I could not but sup-
pose well grounded, for Diana Vernon was
little subject to the nervous emotions of her
sex, and totally unapt to fear without ac-
tual and rational cause. Of what nature
could these mysteries be with which she
was surrounded as with an enchanter's spell,
and which seemed continually to exert an
active influence over her thoughts and ac-
tions, though their agents were never vi-
sible ? On this subject of doubt my mind
finally rested, as if glad to shake itself free
from investigating the propriety or pru-
dence of my own conduct, by transferring
the enquiry to what concerned Miss Ver-
non. I will be resolved, I concluded, ere
I leave Osbaldistone-Hall, concerning the
light in which I must in future regard this
fascinating being, over whose life frankness
and mystery seem to have divided their
reign, the former inspiring her words and

ROB ROY. 61

sentiments, the latter spreading in misty
influence over all her actions.

Joined to the obvious interests which
arose from curiosity and anxious passion,
there mingled in my feelings a strong,
though unavowed and undefined infusion
of jealousy. This sentiment, which springs
up with love as naturally as the tares with
the wheat, was excited by the degree of in-
fluence which Diana appeared to concede
to those unseen beings by whom her ac-
tions were limited. The more I reflected
upon her character, the more I was in-
ternally, though unwillingly, convinced,
that she was formed to set at defiance all
controul, excepting that which arose from
affection ; and I felt a strong, bitter, and
gnawing suspicion, that such was the foun-
dation of that influence by which she was
overawed.

These tormenting doubts strengthened
my desire to penetrate into the secret of
Miss- Vernon's conduct, and in the prose-

62 ROB ROY.

cution of this sage adventure, I formed a
resolution, of which, if you are not weary of
these details, you will find the result in the
next Chapter.

ROE ROY. 63

CHAPTER IV

*•' I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says, I must not stay;

I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away."

Tickell.

I have already told you, Tresham, if
you deign to bear it in remembrance, that
my evening visits to the library had seldom
been made excepting by appointment, and
under the sanction of old Dame Martha's
presence. This, however, was entirely a ta-
cit conventional arrangement of my own in-
stituting. Of late, as the embarrassments
of our relative situation had increased, Miss
Vernon and I had never met in the even-
ing at all. She had therefore no reason to
suppose that I was likely to seek a renewal

64 ROB ROY.

of these interviews, and especially without
some previous notice or appointment be-
twixt us, that Martha might, as usual, be
placed upon duty ; hut, on the other hand,
this cautionary provision was a matter of un-
derstanding, not of express enactment. The
library was open to me, as to the other mem-
bers of the family, at all hours of the day and
night, and 1 could not be accused of intru-
sion, however suddenly and unexpectedly
I might make my appearance in it. My
belief was strong, that in this apartment
Miss Vernon occasionally received Vaugh-
an, or some other person, by whose opi-
nion she was accustomed to regulate her
conduct, and that at the times when she
could do so with least chance of interrup-
tion. The lights which gleamed in the libra.
ry at unusual hours, — the passing shadows
which I had myself remarked, — the footsteps
which might be traced in the morning dew
from the turret-door to the postern-gate in
the garden, — sounds and sights which some
of the servants, and Andrew Fairservice in

ROB ROY, 65

particular, had observed and accounted for
in their own way, all went to shew that the
place was visited by some one different from
the ordinary inmates of the hall. Connected
as this visitant must probably be with the
fates of Diana Vernon, I did not hesitate
ta form a plan of discovering who or what
he was, — how far his influence was likely to
produce good or evil consequences to her
on whom he acted, — above all, though I en-
deavoured to persuade myself that this was
a mere subordinate consideration, — above
all, I desired to know by what means this
person had acquired or maintained his in-
fluence over Diana, and whether he ruled
over her by fear or by affection. The
proof that this jealous curiosity was upper-
most in my mind, arose from my imagina-
tion always ascribing Miss Vernon's con-
due^ to the influence of some one indivi-
dual agent, although, for aught I knew
about the matter, her advisers might be as
numerous as Legion.. I remarked this over
and over to myself, but I found that my

66 ROB ROY.

mind still settled back in my original con-
viction, that one single individual, of the
masculine sex, and, in all probability, young
and handsome, was at the bottom of Miss
Vernon's conduct $ and it was with a burn-
ing desire of discovering, or rather of de-
tecting, such a rival, that I stationed my-
self in the garden to watch the moment
when the lights should appear in the libra-
ry windows.

So eager, however, was my impatience,
that I commenced my watch for a phenome-
non, which could not appear until darkness,
a full hour before the daylight disappear-
ed, upon a July evening. It was Sabbath,
and all the walks were still and solitary. I
walked up and down for some time enjoy-
ing the refreshing coolness of a summer
evening, and meditating on the probable
consequences of my enterprise. The fresh
and balmy air of the garden, impregnated
with fragrance, produced its usual sedative
effects on my over-heated and feverish
blood 5 and as these took place, the tur-

ROB ROY. 67

moil of my mind began proportionally to
abate, and I was led to question the right
I had to interfere with Miss Vernon's se-
crets, or with those of my uncle's family.
What was it to me whom my uncle might
chuse to conceal in his house, where I was
myself a guest only by tolerance ? And
what title had I to pry into the affairs of
Miss Vernon, fraught, as she had avowed
them to be, with mystery, into which she
desired no scrutiny ?

Passion and self-will were ready with
their answers to these questions. In de-
tecting this secret guest, I was in all pro-
bability about to do service to Sir Hilde-
brand, who was probably ignorant of the
intrigues carried on in his family, and a
still more important service to Miss Ver-
non, whose frank simplicity of character
exposed her to so many risks in maintain-
ing a private correspondence, perhaps with
a person of doubtful or dangerous charac-
ter. If I seemed to intrude myself on her
confidence, it was with the generous and

5

68 ROB ROY.

disinterested (yes, I even ventured to call
it the disinterested) intention of guiding,
defending, and protecting her against craft,
— against malice, — above all, against the
secret counsellor whom she had chosen for
her confidant. Such were the arguments
which my will boldly preferred to my con-
science, as coin which ought to be current ;
and which conscience, like a grumbling
shopkeeper, was contented to accept, ra-
ther than come to an open breach with a
customer, though more than doubting that
the tender was spurious.

While I paced the green alleys, debating
these things pro and con, I suddenly light-
ed upon Andrew Fairservice, perched up
like a statue by a range of bee-hives, in an
attitude of devout contemplation, one eye,
however, watching the motions of the little
irritable citizens, who were settling in their
straw-thatched mansion for the evening,
and the other fixed on a book of devotion,
which much attrition had deprived of its

ROB ROY. 69

corners, and worn into an oval shape ; a
circumstance, which, with the close print
and dingy colour of the volume in ques-
tion, gave it an air of most respectable an-
tiquity.

" I was e'en taking a spell o' worthy Mess
John Quackleben's Flower of a Sweet Sa-
vour sawn on the Middenstead of this
World," said Andrew, closing his book at
my appearance, and putting his horn spec-
tacles, by way of mark, at the place where
he had been reading.

" And the bees, I observe, were dividing
your attention, Andrew, with the learned
author?"

" They are a contumacious generation,"
replied the gardener ; " they hae sax days
in the week to hive on, and yet it's a com-
mon observe that they will aye swarm on
the Sabbath-day, and keep folk at hame
frae hearing the word — But there's nae
preaching at Graneagain Chapel the e'en—
that's aye ae mercy."

70 ROB ROY.

" You might have gone to parish church
as I did, Andrew, and heard an excellent
discourse."

" Clauts o' cauld parridge — clauts o'
cauld piarrdge," replied Andrew, with a
most supercilious sneer, — " gude aneugh
for dogs, begging your honour's pardon —
Aye ! I might nae doubt hae heard the cu-
rate linking awa' at it in his white sark
yonder, and the musicians playing on
whistles, mair like a penny wedding than
a sermon — and to the boot of that, I might
hae gaen to even-song, and heard Daddie
Docharty mumbling his mass — muckle the
better I wad hae been o' that."

" Docharty !" said I, (this was the name
of an old priest, an Irishman I think, who
sometimes officiated at Osbaldistone-Hall.)
" I thought Father Vaughan had been at
the Hall. He was there yesterday."

" Ay," replied Andrew ; " but he left it
yestreen, to gang to Greystock, or some o*
thae west country haulds. There's an unco
stir amang them a' e'enow. They are as

ROB KOY. 71

busy as my bees are — God sain them !
that I suld even the puir things to the like
o' papists. Ye see this is the second swarm,
and whiles they will swarm off in the after-
noon. The first swarm set off sune in the
morning. But I am thinking they are set-
tled in their skeps for the night. Sae I
wuss your honour good night, and grace,
and muckle o't."

So saying, Andrew retreated ; but often
cast a parting glance upon the skeps, as he
called the bee-hives.

I had indirectly gained from him an im-
portant piece of information, that Father
Vaughan, namely, was not supposed to be
at the Hall. If, therefore, there appeared
light in the windows of the library this
evening, it either could not be his, or he
was observing a very secret and suspicious
line of conduct. I waited with impatience
the time of sun- set and of twilight. It had
hardly arrived, ere a gleam from the win-
dows of the library was seen, dimly distin-
guishable amidst the still enduring li^ht of

72 ROB ROY.

evening. I marked its first glimpse, how-
ever, as speedily as the benighted sailor
descries the first distant twinkle of the
light-house which marks his course. The
feelings of doubt and propriety, which had
hitherto contended with my curiosity and
jealousy, vanished when an opportunity
of gratifying the former was presented to
me. I re-entered the house, and, avoid-
ing the more frequented apartments with
the consciousness of one who wishes to
keep his purpose secret, I reached the door
of the library, — hesitated for a moment as
my hand was upon the latch, — heard a sup-
pressed step within, — opened the door, —
and found Miss Vernon alone.

Diana appeared surprised, — whether at
my sudden entrance, or for some other
cause, I could not guess ; but there was in
her appearance a degree of flutter, which I
had never before remarked, and which I
knew could only be produced by unusual
emotion. Yet she was calm in a moment ;
and such is the force of conscience, that I,
10

ROB ROY. 7§

who studied to surprise her, seemed myself
the surprised, and was certainly the embar-
rassed person.

" Has any thing happened ?" said Miss
Vernon. * Has any one arrived at the
Hall ?"

M No one that I know of," I answered,
in some confusion ; " I only sought the
Orlando."

" It lies there," said Miss Vernon, point-
ing to the table.

In removing one or two books to get at
that which I pretended to seek, I was, in
truth, meditating to make a handsome re-
treat from an investigation, to which I felt
my assurance inadequate, when I perceived
a man's glove lying upon the table. My
eyes encountered those of Miss Vernon,
who blushed deeply. , •

" It is one of my reliques," she said,
with hesitation, replying not to my words,
but to my looks ; "it is one of the gloves
of my grandfather, the original of the su-
perb Vandyke which you admire."

VOL. II. D

74 ROB ROY,

As if she thought something more than
her bare assertion was necessary, to make
her assertion true, she opened a drawer of
the large oaken-table, and, taking out ano-
ther glove, threw it towards me. When a
temper naturally ingenuous stoops to equi-
vocate or to dissemble, the anxious pain
with which the unwonted task is laboured,
often induces the hearer to doubt the au-
thenticity of the tale. I cast a hasty glance
on both gloves, and then replied gravely —
" The gloves resemble each other, doubt-
less, in the form and embroidery ; but they
cannot form a pair, siuce they both belong
to the right hand."

Sire bit her lip with anger, and again
coloured deeply.

" You do right to expose me," she re-
plied, with bitterness ; " some friends would
have only judged from what I said, that I
chose to give no particular explanation of
a circumstance which calls for none — at
least to a stranger. You have judged bet-
ter, and have made me feel, not only the

ROB ROY. 75

meanness of duplicity, but my own inade-
quacy to sustain the task of a dissembler.
I now tell you distinctly, that that glove is
not the fellow, as you have acutely dis-
cerned, to the one which I just now pro-
duced. It belongs to a friend yet dearer
to me than the original of Vandyke's pic-
ture— a friend by whose counsels I have
been, and will be guided — whom I honour —
whom I" She paused.

I was irritated at her manner, and filled
up the blank in my own way. <c Whom
she loves, Miss Vernon would say."

" And if I do say so," she replied,
haughtily, " by whom shall my affection
be called to account ?"

" Not by me, Miss Vernon, assuredly.
I entreat you to hold me acquitted of such
presumption. But" I continued, with some
emphasis, for I was now piqued in return,
" I hope Miss Vernon will pardon a friend,
from whom she seems disposed to withdraw
the title, for observing" —

" Observe nothing, sir," she interrupted,

76 ROB ROY.

with some vehemence, " excepting that I
will neither be doubted nor questioned.
There does not exist one by whom I will
be either interrogated or judged ; and if
you sought this unusual time of presenting
yourself, in order to spy upon my privacy,
the friendship or interest with which you
pretend to regard me, is a poor excuse for
your uncivil curiosity."

" I relieve you of my presence," said I,
with pride equal to her own ; for my tem-
per has ever been a stranger to stooping,
even in cases where my feelings were most
deeply interested — " I relieve you of my
presence. I awake from a pleasant, but a
most delusive dream ; and — but we under-
stand each other."

I had reached the door of the apartment,
when Miss Vernon, whose movements were
sometimes so rapid as to seem almost in-
stinctive, overtook me, and, catching hold
of my arm, stopped me with that air of
authority which she could so whimsically
assume, and which, from the naivete and

ROB ROY. 77

simplicity of her manner, had an effect so
peculiarly interesting.

" Stop, Mr Frank," she said ; " you are
not to leave me in that way neither ; I am
not so amply provided with friends, that I
can afford to throw away even the ungrate-
ful and the selfish. Mark what I say, Mi-
Francis Osbaldistone y you shall know no-
thing of this mysterious glove," and she
held it up as she spoke — " nothing — no,
not a single iota more than you know al-
ready ; and yet I will not permit it to be a
gauntlet of strife and defiance betwixt us.
My time here," she said, sinking into a tone
somewhat softer, " must necessarily be very
short ; yours must be still shorter : We are
soon to part, never to meet again ; do not
let us quarrel, or make my mysterious mi-
series the pretext for farther embittering
the few hours we shall ever pass together
on this side of eternity."

1 do not know, Tresham, by what witch-
ery this fascinating creature obtained such
complete management over a temper, which
I cannot at all times manage myself. I

78 ROB ROY.

had determined, on entering the library, to
seek a complete explanation with Miss
Vernon. I had found that she refused it
with indignant defiance, and avowed to my
face the preference of a rival ; for what
other construction could I put on her decla-
red preference of her mysterious confidant ?
And yet, while I was on the point of lea-
ving the apartment, and breaking with her
for ever, it cost her but a change of look
and tone from that of real and haughty re-
sentment, to that of kind and playful des-
potism, again shaded off into melancholy
and serious feeling, to lead me back to my
seat, her willing subject, on her own hard
terms.

" What does this avail?" said I, as I
sate down. " What can this avail, Miss
Vernon ? Why should I witness embar-
rassments which I cannot relieve, and
mysteries which I offend you even by at-
tempting to penetrate ? Inexperienced as
you are in the world, you must still be
aware, that a beautiful young woman can
have but one male friend. Even in a male

ROB ROY. 79

friend, I should be jealous of a confidence
shared with a third party unknown and
concealed ; but with you, Miss Vernon" —
* You are, of course, jealous, in all the
tenses and moods of that amicable passion.
But, my good friend, you have all this time
spoke nothing but the paltry gossip which
simpletons repeat from play-books and ro-
mances, till they give mere cant a real and
powerful influence over their minds. Boys
and girls prate themselves into love \ and
when their love is like to fall asleep, they
prate and teaze themselves into jealousy.
But you and I, Frank, are rational beings,
and neither silly nor idle enough to talk
ourselves into any other relation, than that
of plain honest disinterested friendship.
Any other union is as far out of our reach
as if I were man, or you woman. — To speak
truth," she added, after a moment's hesita-
tion, " even though I am so complaisant to
the decorum of my sex as to blush a little
at my own plain dealing, we cannot mar-
ry, if we would ; and we ought not, if we
could."

80 ROB ROY.

And certainly, Tresham, she did blush
most angelically as she made this cruel de-
claration. I was about to attack both her
positions, entirely forgetting those very sus-
picions which had been confirmed in the
course of the evening, but she proceeded
with a cold firmness which, approached to
severity.

" What I say is sober and indisputable
truth, on which I will neither hear question
nor explanation. We are therefore friends3
Mr Osbaldistone ? — are we not ?" She held
out her hand, and taking mine, added, —
" And nothing to each other now, or hence-
forward, excepting friends."

She let go my hand. I sunk it and my
head at once, fairly overcrowed, as Spenser
would have termed it, by the mingled kind-
ness and firmness of her manner. She
hastened to change the subject.

" Here is a letter," she said, " directed
for you, Mr Osbaldistone, very duly and
distinctly ; but which, notwithstanding the
caution of the person who wrote and ad-
dressed it, might perhaps never have reach*

ROB ROY. 81

ed your hands, had it not fallen into the
possession of a certain Pacolet, or enchant-
ed dwarf of mine, whom, like all distressed
damsels of romance, I retain in my secret
service*"

I opened the letter, and glanced over
the contents — the unfolded sheet of paper
dropped from my hands, with the involun-
tary exclamation, " Gracious Heaven ! my
folly and disobedience has ruined my fa-
ther 1"

Miss Vernon rose with looks of real and
affectionate alarm. " You grow pale — you
are ill — shall I bring you a glass of water ?
Be a man, Mr Osbaldistone, and a firm one.
Is your father — is he no more ?"

u He lives," said I, " thank God ! but to
what distress and difficulty"

" If that be all, despair not. May I read
this letter?" she said, taking it up.

I assented, hardly knowing what I said.
She read it with great attention.

" Whais this Mr Tresham, who signs the
letter ?"

j>2

82 KGB ROY.

" My father's partner," (your own good
father, Will,) " but he is little in the habit
of acting personally in the business of the
house."

" He writes here," said Miss Vernon,
" of various letters sent to you previously."

" I have received none of them," I re*
plied.

" And it appears," she continued, * that
Rashleigh, who has taken the full manage-
ment of affairs during your father's absence
in Holland, has some time since left Lon-
don for Scotland, with effects and remit-
tances to take up large bills granted by
your father to persons in that country, and
that he has not since been heard of."

" It is but too true."

" And here has been," she added, look-
ing at the letter, " a head-clerk, or some
such person, — Owenson— Owen— dispatch-
ed to Glasgow7, to find out Rashleigh, if
possible, and you are entreated to repair
to the same place and assist him in his
researches."

ROB ROY. 83

" It is even so, and I must depart in-
stantly."

" Stay but one moment," said Miss Ver-
non. a It seems to me that the worst which
can come of this matter will be the loss of
a certain sum of money ; and can that bring
tears into your eyes ? For shame, Mr Os-
baldistone !"

" You do me injustice, Miss Vernon," I
answered. " I grieve not for the loss, but
for the effect which I know it will produce
on the spirits and health of my father, to
whom mercantile credit is as honour ; and
who, if declared insolvent, would sink into
the grave, oppressed by a sense of grief, re-
morse, and despair, like that of a soldier
convicted of cowardice, or a man of ho-
nour who had lost his rank and character
in society. All this I might have pre-
vented by a trifling sacrifice of the foolish
pride and indolence which recoiled from
sharing the labours of his honourable and
useful profession. Good Heaven ! how shall
I redeem the consequences of my error !"

84 ROB ROY.

<c By instantly repairing to Glasgow, as
you are conjured to do by the friend who
writes this letter."

" But if Rashleigh has really formed this
base and unconscientious scheme of plun-
dering his benefactor, what prospect is
there that I can find means of frustrating
a plan so deeply laid ?"

i( The prospect, indeed, may be uncer-
tain ; but, on the other hand, there is no
possibility of your doing any service to
your father by remaining here. — Remem-
ber, had you been on the post destined for
you, this disaster could not have happened ;
hasten to that which is now pointed out,
and it may possibly be retrieved — Yet stay
—do not leave this room until I return."

She left me in confusion and amaze-
ment, amid which, however, I could find a
lucid interval to admire the firmness, com-
posure, and presence of mind, which Miss
Vernon seemed to possess on every crisis,
however sudden.

In a few minutes she returned with a
10

ROB ROY. 85

sheet of paper in her hand, folded and
sealed like a letter, but without address.
" I trust you," she said, " with this proof
of my friendship, because I have the most
perfect confidence in your honour. If I
understand the nature of your distress
rightly, the funds in Rashleigh's possession
must be recovered by a certain day — the
12th of September, I think, is named, in or-
der that they may be applied to pay the
bills in question ; and, consequently, that,
if adequate funds be provided before that
period, your father's credit is safe from the
apprehended calamity."

<c Certainly — I so understand Mr Tresh-
am" — I looked at your father's letter again,
and added, " There cannot be a doubt of
it."

" Well," said Diana, " in that case my
little Pacolet may be of use to you. — You
have heard of a spell contained in a letter.
Take this packet; do not open it until
other and ordinary means have failed ; if
you succeed by your own exertions, I trust

86 ROB ROY.

to your honour for destroying it without
opening or suffering it to be opened. But
if not, you may break the seal within ten
days of the fated day, and you will find di-
rections which may possibly be of service
to you. — Adieu, Frank ; we never meet
more — but sometimes think on your friend
Die Vernon."

She extended her hand, but I clasped
her to my bosom. She sighed as she extri-
cated herself from the embrace which she
permitted, escaped to the door which led
to her own apartment, and I saw her no
more.

ROB ROY. 87

CHAPTER V.

And hurry, hurry, off they rode,
As fast as fast might be ;

Hurra, hurra, the dead can ride,
Dost fear to ride with me ?

Burgher.

There is one advantage in an accumu-
lation of evils differing in cause and cha-
racter, that the distraction which they af-
ford by their contradictory operation pre-
vents the patient from being overwhelmed
under either. I was deeply grieved at my
separation from Miss Vernon, yet not so
much so as I should have been had not my
father's apprehended distresses forced them-
selves on my attention ; and I was distressed
by the news of Mr Tresham, yet less so than
if they had fully occupied my mind. I was

3

88 ROB ROY.

neither a false lover nor an unfeeling son ;
but man can give but a certain portion of
distressful emotions to the causes which de-
mand them, and if two operate at once, our
sympathy, like the funds of a compounding
bankrupt, can only be divided between
them. Such were my reflections when I
gained my apartment — it seems, from the
illustration, they already begau to have a
twang of commerce in them.

I set myself seriously to consider your
father's letter ; it was not very distinct, and
referred for several particulars to Owen,
whom 1 was entreated to meet with as soon
as possible at a Scotch town, called Glas-
gow; being informed, moreover, that my
old friend was to be heard of at Messrs
Macvittie, Macfln, and Company, mer-
chants in the Gallowgate of the said town.
It likewise alluded to several letters, which,
as it appeared to me, must have miscar-
ried or have been intercepted, and com-
plained of my obdurate silence in terms
which would have been highly unjust, had

hob roy. 89

my letters reached their purposed destina-
tion. I was amazed as I read. That the
spirit of Rashleigh walked around me, and
conjured up these doubts and difficulties
by which I was surrounded, I could not
doubt for one instant ; yet it wras frightful
to conceive the extent of combined vil-
lainy and power which he must have em-
ployed to the perpetration of his designs.
Let me do myself justice in one respect;
the evil of parting from Miss Vernon, how*
ever distressing it might in other respects
and at another time have appeared to me,,
sunk into a subordinate consideration when
I thought of the dangers impending over
my father. I did not myself set a high es-
timation on wealth, and had the affectation
of most young men of lively imagination,
who suppose that they can better dispense
with the possession of money, than resign
their time and faculties to the labour ne-
cessary to acquire it. But in my father's
case, I knew that bankruptcy would be
considered as an utter and irretrievable
disgrace, to which life would afford no com-

90 ROB ROY.

fort, and death the speediest and sole re-
lief.

My mind, therefore, was bent on avert-
ing this catastrophe, with an intensity which
the interest could not have produced had it
referred to my own fortunes ; and the re-
sult of my deliberation was a firm resolu-
tion to depart from Osbaldistone-Hall the
next day, and wend my way without loss
of time to meet Owen at Glasgow. I did
not hold it expedient to intimate my de-
parture to my uncle otherwise than by lea-
ving a letter of thanks for his hospitality,
assuring him that sudden and important bu-
siness prevented my offering them in per-
son. I knew the blunt old knight would
readily excuse ceremony, and I had such
a belief in the extent and 'decided charac-
ter of Rashleigh's machinations, that I had
some apprehension of his having provided
means to intercept a journey which was
undertaken with a view to disconcert them,
if my departure were publicly announced
at Osbaldistone-Hall.

ROB ROY. 91

I therefore determined to set off on my
journey with day-light in the ensuing morn-
ing, and to gain the neighbouring kingdom
of Scotland before any idea of my depar-
ture was entertained at the Hall ; but one
impediment of consequence was likely to
prevent that speed which was the soul of my
expedition. I did not know the shortest,
or indeed any road to Glasgow ; and as, in
the circumstances in which I stood, dis-
patch was of the greatest consequence, I
determined to consult Andrew Fairservice
upon the subject, as the nearest, and most
authentic authority within my reach. Late
as it was, I set off with the intention of as-
certaining this important point, and after a
few minutes walk reached the dwelling of
the gardener.

Andrew's dwelling was situated at no
great distance from the exterior wall of the
garden, a snug, comfortable Northumbrian
cottage, built of stones roughly dressed
with the hammer, and having the windows
and doors decorated with huge heavy archi-

92 ROB ROY.

traves, or lintels, as they are called, of hewn
stone, and its roof covered with broad grey
flags, instead of slates, thatch, or tiles. A
jargonell pear- tree at one end of the cottage,
a rivulet, and flower-plot of a rood in ex-
tent, in front, and a kitchen-garden behind y
a paddock for a cow, and a small field, cul-
tivated with several crops of grain rather for
the benefit of the cottager than tor sale,
announced the warm and cordial comforts
which Old England, even at her most north-
ern extremity, extends to her meanest in-
habitants.

As I approached the mansion of the sa-
pient Andrew, I heard a noise, which, being
of a nature peculiarly solemn, nasai, and
prolonged, led me to think that Andrew,
according to the decent and meritorious
custom of his countrymen, had assembled
some of his neighbours to join in family-
exercise, as he called evening devotion.
Andrew had indeed neither wife, child, nor
female inmate in his family. " The first of
Iiis trade," he said, " had had eneugh o'

ROB ROY. 93

thae cattle." But, notwithstanding, he
sometimes contrived to form an audience
for himself out of the neighbouring Papists
and Church-of-England-men, brands, as he
expressed it, snatched out of the burning,
on whom he used to exercise his spiritual
gifts, in defiance alike of Father Vaughan,
Father Docharty, Rashleigh, and all the
world of Catholics around him, who deem-
ed his interference on such occasions an
act of heretical interloping. I conceived
it likely, therefore, that the well-disposed
neighbours might have assembled to hold
some chapel of ease of this nature. The
noise, however, when I listened to it more
accurately, seemed to proceed entirely from
the lungs of the said Andrew ; and when I
interrupted it by entering the house, I
found Fairservice alone, combatting, as he
best could, with long words and hard names,
and reading aloud, for the purpose of his
own edification, a volume of controversial
divinity. " I was just taking a spell," said
he, laying aside the huge folio volume as

94 ROB ROY.

I entered, " of the worthy Doctor Light-
foot."

Cl Lightfoot !" I replied, looking at the
ponderous volume with some surprise ;
" surely your author was unhappily na-
med."

" Lightfoot was his name, sir ; a divine
he was, and another kind of a divine than
they hae now-a-days. Always, I crave your
pardon for keeping ye standing at the door,
but having been mistrysted (gude preserve
us) with ae bogle the night already, I was
dubious o' opening the yate till I had gaen
through the e'ening worship ; and I had
just finished the fifth chapter of Nehemiah
— if that winna gar them keep their dis-
tance, I wot na what will."

" Trysted with a bogle !" said I -y " what
do you mean by that, Andrew ?"

" That," said Andrew," is as muckle as
to say fley'd wi' a ghaist — gude preserve
us, I say again !"

" Flay'd by a ghost, Andrew ! how am
I to understand that ?"

ROB ROY. 95

" I did not say flay'd," replied Andrew,
" but Jfei/d, that is, I got a fleg, and was
ready to jump out o' my skin, though nae-
body offered to whirl it aff my body as a
man wad bark a tree."

" I beg a truce to your terrors in the
present case, Andrew, and I wish to know
whether you can direct me the nearest way
to a town in your country of Scotland,
called Glasgow ?"

" A town ca'd Glasgow !" echoed An-
drew Fairservice. " Glasgow's a city, man
— And is't the way to Glasgow ye were
speering if I kenn'd ? — What suid ail me to
ken it ? — it's no that dooms far frae my ain
parish of Dreepdaily, that lies a bittock
farther to the west. But what may your
honour be gaun to Glasgow for?"

" Particular business."

" That's as muckie as to say, speer nae
questions, and I'll tell ye nae lies— To
Glasgow ?" he made a short pause — " I
am thinking ye wad be the better o' some
ane to show ye the road."

96 ROB ROY.

u Certainly, if I could meet with any
person going that way."

c< And your honour, doubtless, wad con-
sider the time and trouble ?"

" Unquestionably — my business is press-
ing, and if you can find any lad to accom-
pany me, I'll pay him handsomely."

" This is no a day to speak o' carnal
matters," said Andrew, casting his eyes up-
wards ; " but if it were na Sabbath at e'en
I wad speer what ye wad be content to
gi'e to ane that wad bear ye pleasant com-
pany on the road, and tell ye the names of
the gentlemens' and noblemens' seats and
castles, and count their kin to ye ?"

" I tell you, all I want to know is the
road I must travel ; I will pay the fellow
to his satisfaction — I will give him any
thing in reason."

" Any thing," replied Andrew, rt is nae-
thing > and this lad that I am speaking o'
kens a' the short cuts and queer bye-paths
through the hills, and"

ROB ROY. 97

" I have no time to talk about it, An-
drew ; do you make the bargain for me your
own way."

" Aha ! that's speaking to the purpose,5'
answered Andrew. — " I am thinking since
sae be that sae it is, I'll be the lad that will
guide you mysel."

" You, Andrew ? how will you get away
from your employment ?"

* I tell'd'your honour a while syne that
it was lang that I hae been thinking of flit-
ting, maybe as lang as frae the first year I
came to Osbaldistone-Hall, and now I am
o' the mind to gang in gude earnest — bet-
ter soon as syne — better a finger aff as aye
wagging."

" You leave your service then ? — but
will you not lose your wages ?"

" Nae doubt there will be a certain loss ;
but then I hae siller o' the laird's in my
hands that I took for the apples in the
auld orchyard, and a sair bargain the folk
had that bought them — a wheen green
trash — and yet Sir Hildebrand's as keen to

VOL. II. E

98 ROB ROY.

hae the siller fthat is, the steward is as
pressing about it) as if they had been a'
gowden pippins — and then there's the siller
for the seeds — I'm thinking the wage will
be in a manner decently made up. — But
doubtless your honour will consider my
risk of loss when we won to Glasgow — and
ye'll be for setting out forthwith ?"

ct By day-break in the morning."

" That's something o' the suddenest —
whare am I to find a naig ? — Stay — I ken
just the beast that will answer me."

" At five in the morning then, Andrew,
you will meet me at the head of the
avenue."

" Deil a fear o' me (that I suld say sae)
missing my tryste," replied Andrew very
briskly ; " and, if I might advise, we wad
be aff twa hours earlier. I ken the way,
dark or light, as weel as blind Ralph Ro-
naldson, that's travelled ower every moor
in the country-side, and does na ken the co-
lour of a heather-cowe when a's dune."

I highly approved of Andrew's amend-
ment on my original proposal, and we

ROB ROY. 9f)

agreed to meet at the place appointed at
three in the morning. At once, however,
a reflection came across the mind of my
intended travelling companion.

" The bogle ! the bogle ! what if it
should come out upon us?— I downa for-
gather wi' thae things twice in the four-
and-twenty hours."

" Pooh ! pooh !" I exclaimed, breaking
away from him, " fear nothing from the
next weld — the earth contains living fiends
who can act for themselves without assist-
ance, were the whole host that fell with
Lucifer to return to aid and abet them."

With these words, the import of which
was suggested by my own situation, I left
Andrew's habitation and returned to the
Hail.

I made the few preparations which were
necessary for my proposed journey, exa-
mined and loaded my pistols, and then
threw myself on my bed, to obtain, if pos-
sible, a brief sleep before the fatigue of a
long and anxious journey. Nature, ex-

100 ROB ROY.

hausted by the tumultuous agitations of
the day, was kinder to me than I expect-
ed, and I sunk into a deep and profound
sleep, from which, however, I started as
the old clock struck two from a turret ad-
joining to my bed-chamber. I instantly
arose, struck a light, wrote the letter I pro-
posed to leave for my uncle, and leaving
behind me such articles of dress as were
cumbrous in carriage, I deposited the rest
of my wardrobe in my valise, glided down
stairs, and gained the stable without impe-
diment. Without being quite such a groom
as any of my cousins, I had learned at Os-
baldistone-Hall to dress and saddle my own
horse, and in a few minutes I was mounted
and ready for my sally.

As I paced up the old avenue, on which
the waning moon threw its light with a
pale and whitish tinge, I looked back with
a deep and boding sigh towards the walls
which contained Diana Vernon, under the
despondent impression that we had proba-
bly parted to meet no more. It was im-

ROB ROY. 101

possible among the long and irregular lines
of Gothic casements, which now looked
ghastly white in the moonlight, to distin-
guish that of the apartment which she in-
habited. " She is lost to me already,"
thought I, as my eye wandered over the
dim and undistinguishable intricacies of ar-
chitecture offered by the moonlight view of
Osbaldistone-Hall — " She is lost to me al-
ready, ere I have left the place which she
inhabits ! What hope is there of my main-
taining any correspondence with her when
leagues shall lie between ?"

While I paused in a reverie of no very
pleasing nature, the " iron tongue of time
told three upon the drowsy ear of night,"
and reminded me of the necessity of keep-
ing my appointment with a person of a
less interesting description and appearance
— Andrew Fairservice.

At the gate of the avenue I found a
horseman stationed in the shadow of the
wall, but it was not until I had coughed
twice, and then called " Andrew," that

102 KOB ROY.

the horticulturist replied, " Pse warrant it's
Andrew."

" Lead the way then," said I, " and be
silent if you can till we are past the hamlet
in the valley."

Andrew led the way accordingly, and at
a much brisker pace than I would have re-
commended ; and so well did he obey my
injunctions of keeping silence, that he would
return no answer to my repeated enquiries
into the cause of such unnecessary haste.
Extricating ourselves by short cuts, known
to Andrew, from the numerous stony lanes
and bye-paths which intersected each other
in the vicinity of the Hall, we reached the
open heath ; and riding swiftly across it,
took our course among barren hills which
divide England from Scotland on what are
called the Middle Marches. The way, or
rather the broken track which we occupied,
was a happy interchange of bog and shin-
gles ; nevertheless, Andrew relented no-
thing of his speed, but trotted manfully
forward at the rate of eight or ten miles an

ROB ROY. 103

hour. I was surprised and provoked at the
fellow's obstinate persistance, for we made
abrupt ascents and descents over ground of a
very break-neck character, and traversed the
edge of precipices, where a slip of the horse's
feet would have consigned the rider to cer-
tain death. The moon, at best, afforded a
dubious and imperfect light ; but in some
places we were so much under the shade of
the mountain as to be in total darkness, and
then I could only trace Andrew by the clat-
ter of his horse's feet, and the fire which
they struck from the flints. At first, this ra-
pid motion, and the attention which, for the
sake of personal safety, I was compelled to
give to the conduct of my horse, was of ser-
vice, by forcibly diverting my thoughts from
the various painful reflections which must
otherwise have pressed on my mind. But
at length, after hallooing repeatedly to An-
drew to ride slower, I became seriously in-
censed at his impudent perseverance in re-
fusing either to obey or to reply to me. My
anger was, however, quite impotent. I at-
1

104 ROB ROY.

tempted once or twice to get up along- side
of my self-willed guide, with the purpose of
knocking him off his horse with the butt-
end of my whip ; but Andrew was better
mounted than J, and either the spirit of the
animal which he bestrode, or more probably
some presentiment of my kind intentions
towards him, induced him to quicken his
pace whenever I attempted to make up to
him. On the other hand, I was compelled
to exert my spurs to keep him in sight, for
without his guidance I was too well aware
that I should never find my way through
the howling wilderness which we now tra-
versed at such an unwanted pace. I was
so angry at length, that I threatened to
have recourse to my pistols, and send a bul-
let after the Hotspur Andrew, which should
stop his fiery-footed career, if he did not
abate it of his own accord. Apparently this
threat made some impression on the tym-
panum of his ear, however deaf to all my
milder entreaties ; for he relaxed his pace
upon hearing it, and suffering me to close

ROB ROY. 105

up to him, observed, " There wasna m tic-
kle sense in riding at sic a daft-like gate."

" And what did you mean by doing it at
all, you scoundrel ?" replied I, for I was in
a towering passion, to which, by the way,
nothing contributes more than the having
recently undergone a spice of personal fear,
which, like a few drops of water flung on a
glowing fire, is sure to inflame the ardour
which it is insufficient to quench.

" What's your honour's wull ?" replied
Andrew, with impenetrable gravity.

" My will, you rascal ? — I have been
roaring to you this hour to ride slower, and
you have never so much as answered me —
Are you drunk or mad to behave so ?"

" An it like your honour, I am some-
thing dull o' hearing ; and I'll no deny but
I might have maybe ta'en a stirrup cup at
parting frae the auld bigging whare I hae
dwalt sae lang ; and having naebody to
pledge me, nae doubt I was obliged to do
myself reason, or else leave the end o' the
e 2

106 ROB ROY.

brandy stoup to thae papists, and that wad
be a waste, as your honour kens."

This might be all very true, and my cir-
cumstances required that I should be on
good terms with my guide ; I therefore sa-
tisfied myself with requiring of him to take
his directions from me in future concerning
the rate of travelling.

Andrew, emboldened by the mildness
of my tone, elevated his own into the pe-
dantic, conceited octave, which was fami-
liar to him on most occasions.

" Your honour winna persuade me, and
naebody shall persuade me, that its either
halesome or prudent to tak the night air
on thae moors without a cordial o5 clow-
gilliflower water, or a tass of brandy or
aquavita?, or sic like creature-comfort. I
hae taen the bent ower the Otterscape-rigg
a hundred times, day and night, and never
could find the way unless I had taen my
morning; mair by token that I had whiles
twa bits o' ankers o' brandy on ilk side o'
jne."—

ROB ROY. 107

** In other words, Andrew, you were a
smuggler — how does a man of your strict
principles reconcile yourself to cheat the
revenue ?"

" Its a mere spoiling o* the Egyptians,"
replied Andrew; " puir auld Scotland suf-
fered aneugh by thae blackguard loons o'
excisemen and gaugers, that hae come down
on her like locusts since the sad and sor-
row fu' Union ; its the part of a kind son to
bring her a soup o' something that will keep
up her auld heart, and that will they nill they,,
the ill-fa'ard thieves."

Upon more particular enquiry, 1 found
Andrew had frequently travelled these
mountain paths as a smuggler, both before
and after his establishment at Osbaldistone-
Hall, a circumstance which was so far of
importance to me, as it proved his capacity
as a guide, notwithstanding the escapade
of which he had been guilty at his outset.
Even now, though travelling at a more
moderate pace, the stirrup-cup, or what-
ever else had such an effect in stimu-

108 ROB ROY.

lating Andrew's motions, seemed not to
tally to have lost its influence. He often
cast a nervous and startled look behind
him ; and whenever the road seemed at
all practicable, shewed symptoms of a de-
sire to accelerate his pace, as if he fear-
ed some pursuit from behind. These ap-
pearances of alarm gradually diminished
as we reached the top of a high bleak
ridge, which ran nearly east and west for
about a mile, with a very steep descent on
either side. The pale beams of the morn-
ing were now enlightening the horizon,
when Andrew cast a look behind him, and
not seeing the appearance of a living being
on the moors which he had travelled, his
hard features gradually unbent, as he first
whistled, then sung, with much glee and
little melody, the end of one of his na-
tive songs :

« Jenny lass ! I think I ha? her
Ower the moor amang the heather ;
All heir elan shall never &et her.'*

ROB ROV* 109

He patted at the same time the neck of
the horse which had carried him so gal-
lantly ; and my attention being directed
by that action to the animal, 1 instantly re-
cognized a favourite mare of Thorncliff
Osbaldistone. " How is this, sir?" said
I sternly; " that is Master ThornclhT's
mare !"

" I'll no say but she may aiblins hae
been his Honour's, Squire ThornclhT's, in
her day, but she's mine now."

" You have stolen her, you rascal."
" Na, na, sir, nae man can wyte me wi'
theft — The thing stands this gate, ye see —
Squire Thorncliff borrowed ten punds o'
me to gang to York Races — deil a boddle
wad he pay me back again, and spake o'
raddling my banes, as he ca'd it, when I
asked him but for my ain back again — now
I think it will riddle him or he gets his
horse ower the Border again — unless he
pays me plack and bawbee, he sail never see
a hair o' her tail. I ken a canny chield at
Loughmaben, a bit writer lad that put me in

110 ROB ROY.

the way to sort him — Steal the mear ! na»
na, far be the sin o' theft frae Andrew Fair-
service — I have just arrested her jurisdic-
tiones fandandy causey. Thae are bonnie
writer words — amaist like the language o'
huz gardners and other learned men — its a
pity they're sae dear — thae three words
were a' that Andrew got for a lang law-
plea, and four ankers o* as gude brandy as
was e'er coupit ower craig — Hech sirs ! but
law's a dear thing."

" You are likely to find it much dearer
than you suppose, Andrew, if you proceed
in this mode of paying yourself, without
legal authority."

c< Hout tout, we're in Scotland now (be
praised for't), and I can find baith friends
and lawyers, and judges too, as weel as ony
Osbaldistone o' them a'. My mither's mi-
ther's third cousin was cousin to the Pro-
vost o' Dumfries, and he winna see a drap
o' her blude wranged. Hout awa, the law*
are indifferently administered here to a' men
alike \ it's no like on yon side, when a chield

ROB ROY. Ill

may be whuppit awa' wi' ane o' Cle-k Job-
son's warrants, afore he kens where he is.
But they will hae little eneugh law amang
them by and bye, and that is ae grand rea-
son that I hae gi'en them gude day."

I was highly provoked at this achieve-
ment of Andrew, and considered it as a
hard fate, which a second time threw me
into collision with a person of such irregu-
lar practices. I determined, however, to
buy the mare of him, when we should reach
the end of our journey, and send her back
to my cousin at Osbaldistone-Hall ; and,
with this purpose of reparation, I resolved
to make my uncle acquainted from the
next post-town. It was needless, I thought,
to quarrel with Andrew in the meantime,
who had, after all, acted not very unnatu-
rally for a person in his circumstances. I
therefore smothered my resentment, and
asked him, what he meant by his last ex-
pressions, that there would be little law in
Northumberland by and bye ?

" Law !" said Andrew, " hout, ay — there

112 ROB ROY.

will he club-law eneugh. The priests and
the Irish officers, and thae papist cattle that
hae been sodgering abroad, because they
durst na bide at hame, are a' fleeing thick
in Northumberland e'enovv, and thae cor-
bies dinna gather without they smell car-
rion. As sure as ye live, his honour Sir
Hildebrand is gaun to stick his horn in the
bog — there's naething but gun and pistol,
sword and dagger, amang them — and they'll
be laying on, 1'se warrant ; for they're fear-
less fules the young Osbaldistone squires,
aye craving your honour's pardon."

This speech recalled to my memory some
suspicions that I myself had entertained,
that the Jacobites were on the eve of some
desperate enterprize. But, conscious it did
not become me to be a spy on my uncle's
words and actions, I had rather avoided
than availed myself of any opportunity
which occurred of remarking upon the
signs of the times. Andrew Fairservice
felt no such restraint, and doubtless spoke
very truly in stating his conviction, that

6

ROB ROY. 113

some desperate plots were in agitation, as a
reason which determined his resolution to
leave the Hall.

" The servants," he stated, " with the
tenantry and others, had been all regularly
enrolled and mustered, and they wanted
me to take arms also. But I'll ride in nae
siccan troop — they little kenn'd Andrew
that asked him. I'll fight when I like my-
sell, but it sail neither be for the hoor of
Babylon, nor ony hoor in England,"

114 ROB ROY.

CHAPTER VI.

Where longs to fall yon rifted spire,

As weary of the insulting air;
The poet's thought, the warrior's fire,

The lover's sighs are sleeping there.

Langhorne.

At the first Scotch town which we reach-
ed, my guide sought out his friend and
counsellor, to consult upon the proper and
legal means of converting into his own law-
ful property the " bonnie creature," which
was at present his own only by one of
those slight-of-hand arrangements, which
still -sometimes took place in that once law-
less district. I was somewhat diverted with
the dejection of his looks on his return.
He had, it seems, been rather too commu-
nicative to his conridential friend, the at-

ROB ROY. 115

torney ; and learned with great dismay, in
return for his unsuspecting frankness, that
Mr Touthope had, during his absence, been
appointed clerk to the peace of the county,
and was bound to communicate to justice all
such achievements as that of his friend, Mr
Andrew Fairservice. There was a neces-
sity, this alert member of police stated, for
arresting the horse, and placing him in
Baillie Trumbull's stable, therein to remain
at livery, at the rate of twelve shillings
(Scotch) per diem, until the question of
property was duly tried and debated. He
even talked, as if, in strict and rigorous
execution of his duty, he ought to detain
honest Andrew himself; but on my guide's
most piteously entreating his forbearance,
he not only desisted from this proposal, but
made a present to Andrew of a broken-wind
ed and spavined poney, in order to enable
him to pursue his journey. It is true, he
qualified this act of generosity by exacting
from poor Andrew an absolute cession of his

116 ROB ROY.

right and interest in the gallant palfrey
of Thorncliff Osbaldistone ; a transference
which Mr Touthope represented as of very
little consequence, since his unfortunate
friend, as he facetiously observed, was like-
ly to get nothing of the mare excepting
the halter.

Andrew seemed woeful and disconcert-
ed, as I screwed out of him these particu-
lars ; for his northern pride was cruelly
pinched by being compelled to admit that
attorneys were attorneys on both sides of
the Tweed ; and that Mr Clerk Touthope
was not a farthing more sterling coin than
Mr Clerk Jobson.

" It wadna hae vexed him half sae
muckle to hae been cheated out o' what
might amaist be said to be won with the
peril o' his craig, had it happened amang
the Inglishers ; but it was an unco thing
to see hawks pike out hawks e'en, or ae
kindly Scot cheat anither. But nae doubt
things were strangely changed in his coun-
try sin' the sad and sorrowfu' Union ;" an

ROB ROY. 117

event to which Andrew referred every
symptom of depravity or degeneracy which
he remarked among his countrymen, more
especially the inflammation of reckonings,
the diminished size of pint-stoups, and
other grievances, which he pointed out to
me during our journey.

For my own part, I held myself, as things
had turned out, acquitted of all charge of
the mare, and wrote to my uncle the cir-
cumstances under which she was carried
into Scotland, concluding with informing
him that she was in the hands of Justice,
and her worthy representatives, Baillie
Trumbull and Mr Clerk Touthope, to
whom I referred him for farther particu-
lars. Whether the property returned to
the Northumbrian fox-hunter, or continued
to bear the person of the Scottish attor-
ney, it is unnecessary for me at present to
say.

We now pursued our journey to the
northwestward, at a rate much slower than

118 ROB IiOY.

that at which we had achieved our noctur*
nal retreat from England. One chain of
barren and uninteresting hills succeeded
another, until the more fertile vaie of Clyde
opened upon us, and with such dispatch as
we might we gained the town, or, as my
guide pertinaciously termed it, the city of
Glasgow. Of late years, I understand, it
has fully deserved the name, which, by
a sort of political second sight, my guide
distinguished it. An extensive and in-
creasing trade with the West Indies and
American colonies, has, if I am rightly
informed, laid the foundation of wealth and
prosperity, which, carefully strengthened
and built upon, may one day support an
immense fabric of commercial prosperity;
but, in the earlier time of which I speak,
the dawn of this splendour had not arisen.
The Union had, indeed, opened to Scotland
the trade to the English colonies j but, be-
twixt want of capital, and the national jea-
lousy of the English, the merchants of Scot-
land were as yet excluded, in a great mea-

ROB ROY. 119

sure, from the exercise of the privileges
which that memorable treaty conferred on
them. Glasgow lay upon the wrong side
of the island for participating in the east
country or continental trade, by which the
trifling commerce as yet produced in Scot-
land chiefly supported itself. Yet, though
she then gave small promise of the com-
mercial eminence to which, I am inform-
ed, she seems now likely one day to attain,
Glasgow, as the principal central town of
the western district of Scotland, was a place
of considerable rank and importance. The
broad and brimming Clyde, which flows so
near its walls, gave the means of an inland
navigation of some importance. Not only
the fertile plains in its immediate neigh-
bourhood, but the districts of Ayr and
Dumfries regarded Glasgow as their capi-
tal, to which they transmitted their pro-
duce, and received in return such necessa-
ries and luxuries as their consumption re-
quired.

120 ROB ROY.

The dusky mountains of the Western
Highlands often sent forth wilder tribes to
frequent the marts of St Mungo's favour-
ite city. Hordes of wild, shaggy, dwarfish
cattle and ponies, conducted by Highland-
er?, as wild, as shaggy, and sometimes as
dwarfish as the animals they had in charge,
often traversed the streets of Glasgow.
Strangers gazed with surprize on the an-
tique and fantastic dress, and listened to
the unknown and dissonant sounds of their
language, while the mountaineers, armed
even while engaged in this peaceful occu-
pation with musket and pistol, sword, dag-
ger, and target, stared with astonishment on
the articles of luxury of which they knew
not the use, and with avidity which seem-
ed somewhat alarming upon the articles
which they knew and valued. It is always
with unwillingness that the Highlander quits
his deserts, and at this early period it was
like tearing a pine from its rock to plant
him elsewhere. Yet even then the mountain

ROB ROY. 121

glens were over-peopled, until thinned oc-
casionally by famine or by the sword, and
many of their inhabitants strayed down to
Glasgow — there formed settlements — there
sought and found employment, though dif-
ferent, indeed, from those of their native
hills. This supply of a hardy and useful
population was of consequence to the pros-
perity of the place, furnished the means of
carrying on the few manufactures which the
town already boasted, and laid the founda-
tion of its future prosperity.

The exterior of the city corresponded
with these promising circumstances. The
principal street was broad and important,
decorated with public buildings, of an ar-
chitecture rather striking than correct in
point of taste, and running between rows
of tall houses, built with stone, the fronts
of which were occasionally richly ornament-
ed with mason-work, a circumstance which
gave the street an imposing air of dignity
and grandeur, of which most English towns

VOL. II. F

\22 ROB ROY.

are in some measure deprived, by the slight,
unsubstantial, and perishable quality and
appearance of the bricks with which they
are constructed.

In the western metropolis of Scotland,
my guide and I arrived upon a Thursday
morning. The bells pealed from the steeple,
and the number of people who thronged
the streets, and poured to the churches,
announced that this was a day of worship.
We alighted at the door of a jolly hostler-
wife, as Andrew called her, the Ostelere of
old father Chaucer, by whom we were ci-
villy received. My first impulse, of course,
was to seek out Owen, but upon enquiry
I found that my attempt would be in vain,
" until kirk time was ower." Not only did
my landlady and guide jointly assure me
that there wadna be a living soul in the
counting-house of Messrs MacVittie, Mac-
fin, and Company, to which Owen's letter
referred me, but, moreover, " far less
would I find any of the partners there.
They were serious men, and wad be where

ROB ROY. 123

a' gude Christians ought to be at sic a time,
and that was in the Barony Laigh Kirk."

Andrew Fairservice, whose disgust at
the law of his country had fortunately not
extended itself to the other learned pro-
fessions of his native land, now sung forth
the praises of the preacher who was to per-
form the duty, to which my hostess replied
with many loud amens. The result was, that
I determined to go to this popular place of
worship, as much with the purpose of learn-
ing, if possible, whether Owen had arrived
in Glasgow, as with any great expectation
of edification. My hopes were exalted by
the assurance that if Mr Ephraim Mac Vit-
tie (worthy man) were in the land of life, he
would surely honour the Barony Kirk that
day with his presence ; and if he chanced
to have a stranger within his gates, doubt-
less he would bring him to the duty along
with him. This probability determined
my motions, and, under the escort of the
faithful Andrew, I set forth for the Barony
Kirk.

124 ROB ROY.

Upon this occasion, however, I bad little
occasion for his guidance ; for the croud
which forced its way up a steep and rough
paved street to hear the most popular preach-
er in the west of Scotland, would of itself
have swept me along with it. Upon at-
taining the summit of the hill, we turned
to the left, and a large pair of folding doors
admitted me, amongst others, into the open
and extensive burying place which sur-
rounds the Minster or Cathedral Church of
Glasgow. The pile is of a gloomy and
massive, rather than of an elegant, style of
Gothic architecture ; but its peculiar cha-
racter is so strongly preserved, and so well
suited with the accompaniments that sur-
round it, that the impression of the first
view was awful and solemn in the extreme.
I was indeed so much struck, that I resist-
ed for a few minutes all Andrew's efforts to
drag me into the interior of the building,
so deeply was J engaged in surveying its
outward character.

ROB ROY. 125

Situated in a populous and considerable
town, this solemn and massive pile has the
appearance of the most sequestered soli-
tude. High walls divide it from the build-
ings of the city on one side ; on the other,
it is bounded by a ravine, through the depth
of which, and invisible to the eye, murmurs
a wandering rivulet, adding, by its rush-
ing noise, to the imposing solemnity of
the scene. On the opposite side of the ra-
vine rises a steep bank, covered with fir-
trees closely planted, whose dusky shade ex-
tends itself over the cemetery with an ap-
propriate and gloomy effect. The church-
yard itself had a peculiar character ; for
though in reality extensive, it is small in pro-
portion to the number of respectable inha-
bitants who are interred within it, and whose
graves are almost all covered with tomb-
stones. There is therefore no room for the
long rank grass, which, in the ordinary
case, partially clothes the surface in these
retreats, where the wicked cease from trou-
bling, and the weary are at rest. The

126 ROB ROY,

broad flat monumental stones are placed so
close to each other, that the precincts ap-
pear to be flagged with them, and, though
roofed only by the heavens, resemble the
floor of one of our old English churches,
where the pavement is covered with sepul-
chral inscriptions. The contents of these
sad records of mortality, the vain sorrows
which they record, the stern lesson which
they teach of the nothingness of humanity,
the extent of ground which they so closely
cover, and their uniform and melancholy
tenoiv reminded me of the roll of the pro-
phet, which was " written within and with-
out, and there were written therein lamen-
tations and mourning and woe."

The Cathedral itself corresponds in im-
pressive majesty with these accompani-
ments. We feel that its appearance is
heavy, yet that the effect produced would
be destroyed wTere it lighter or more orna-
mental. It is the only metropolitan church
in Scotland, excepting, as I am informed,
the cathedral of Kirkwall in the Orkneys,

ROB ROYr 127

which remained uninjured at the Reform-
ation ; and Andrew Fairservice, who saw
with great pride the effect which it pro-
duced upon my mind, thus accounted for
its preservation. " Ah ! it's a brave kirk —
nane o' yere whig-maleeries and curliewur-
lies and open-steek hems about it — a' solid,
weel-jointed mason-wark, that will stand
as long as the warld, keep hands and gun-
powther aff it. It had amaist a doun-come
lang syne at the Reformation, when they
pu'd doun the kirks of St Andrews and
Perth, and thereawa, to cleanse them o'
Papery, and idolatry, and image worship,
and surplices, and sic like rags b' the muckle
hoor that sitteth on seven hills, as if ane was
na braid aneugh for her auld hinder end. Sae
the commons o' Renfrew, and o' the Baro-
ny, and the Gorbals, and a' about, they be-
hoved to come into Glasgow ae fair morning
to try their hand on purging the High Kirk
o' Popish nick-nackets. But the townsmen
o' Glasgow, they were feared their auld edi-
fice might slip the girths in gaun through

128 ROB ROY.

siccan rough physic, sae they rang the com-
mon bell, and assembled the train bands
wi' took o' drum — by good luck, the worthy
James Rabat was Dean o' Guild that year —
(and a gude mason he was himsell, made
him the keener to keep up the auld tag-
ging,) and the trades assembled, and offer-
ed downright battle to the commons, ra-
ther than their kirk should coup the crans,
as they had done elsewhere. It was na for
luve o' Paperie — na, na ! — nane could ever
say that o' the trades o' Glasgow— Sae they
sune cam to an agreement to take a' the
idolatrous statues of sants (sorrow be on
them) out o* their neuks — And sae the bits
o' stane idols were broken in pieces by
Scripture warrant, and flung into the Mo-
lendinar Burn, and the auld kirk stood as
crouse as a cat when the fleas are caimed
affher, and a'body was alike pleased. And
I hae heard wise folk say, that if the
same had been done in ilka kirk in Scot-
land, the Reform wad just hae been as pure
as it is e'en now, and we wrad had mair

ROB ROY. 129

Christian-like kirks ; for I hae been sae
lang in England, that naething will d rived
out o' my head, that the dog-kennell at
Osbaldistone-Hall is better than mony a
house o' God in Scotland."

Thus saying, Andrew led the way into
the place of worship.

F 2

130 ROB ROY.

CHAPTER VII.

-It strikes an awe

And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chillness to the trembling heart.

Mourning Bride.

Notwithstanding the impatience of my
conductor, I could not forbear to pause
and gaze for some minutes on the exterior
of the building, rendered more impressive-
ly dignified by the solitude which ensued
when its hitherto open gates were closed,
after having, as it were, devoured the
multitudes which had lately crowded the
church-yard, but now enclosed within the
building, were engaged, as the choral swell
of voices from within announced to us,
in the solemn exercises of devotion. The

9

ROB HOY. 131

sound of so many voices, united by the
distance into one harmony, and freed
from those harsh discordances which jar
the ear when heard more near, uniting
with the murmuring brook, and the wrind
which sung amongst the old firs, affected
me with a sense of sublimity. All na-
ture, as invoked by the Psalmist whose
verses thev chaunted, seemed united in of-
fering that solemn praise in which trem-
bling is mixed with joy as she addresses
her Maker. I had heard the service of
high mass in France, celebrated with all
the eclat which the choicest music, the
richest dresses, the most imposing ceremo-
nies, could confer on it ; yet it fell short in
effect of the simplicity of the presbyterian
worship. The devotion, in which every
one took a share, seemed so superior in ef-
fect to that which was recited by musi-
cians, as a lesson which they had learned
by rote, that it gave the Scottish worship
all the advantage of reality over acting.

132 ROB ROY.

As I lingered to catch more of the so-
lemn sound, Andrew, whose impatience
became ungovernable, pulled me by the
sleeve — " Come awa', sir — Come awa', we
mauna be late o' gaun in to disturb the
worship ; if we bide here, the searchers
will be on us, and carry us to the guard-
house for being idlers in kirk-time."

Thus admonished, I followed my guide,
but not, as I had supposed, into the body
of the cathedral. " This gate — this gate,
sir !" he exclaimed, dragging me off as I
made towards the main entrance of the
buildings, — " There's but cauldrife law-
wark gaun on yonder — carnal morality, as
dow'd and as fusionless as rue leaves at
Yule — Here's the real savour of doctrine."

So saying, he entered a small low-arched
door, secured by a wicket, which a grave-
looking person seemed on the point of clo-
sing, and descended several steps as if into
the funeral vaults beneath the church. It
was even so j for in these subterranean pre-

ROB ROY. 133

eincts, why chosen for such a purpose I
knew not, was established a very singular
place of worship.

Conceive, Tresham, an extensive range of
low-browed, dark, and twilight vaults, such
as are used for sepulchres in other countries,
and had long been dedicated to the same pur-
pose in this, a portion of which was seated
with pews, and used as a church. The part
of the vaults thus occupied, though capable
of containing a congregation of many hun-
dreds, bore a small propo: tion to the darker
and more extensive caverns which yawned
around what may be termed the inhabited
space. In those waste regions of oblivion,
dusky banners and tattered escutcheons in-
dicated the graves of those who wTere once,
doubtless, " princes in Israel." Inscrip-
tions, which could only be read by the pain-
ful antiquary, in language as obsolete as the
act of devotional charity which they implo-
red, invited the passengers to pray for the
souls of those whose bodies rested beneath.
Surrounded by these receptacles of the last
8

134 ROB ROY.

remains of mortality, I found a numerous
congregation engaged in the act of prayer.
The Scotch perform this duty in a standing,
instead of a kneeling posture, more, per-
haps, to take as broad a distinction as pos-
sible from the ritual of Rome than for any
better reason, since I have observed that
in their family worship, as doubtless in
their private devotions, they adopt in their
immediate address to the Deity that posture
which other Christians use as the humblest
and most reverential. Standing, therefore,
the men being uncovered, a crowd of seve-
ral hundreds of both sexes, and all ages,
listened with great reverence and attention
to the extempore, at least the unwritten
prayer of an aged clergyman,* who was

* I have in vain laboured to discover this gentle-
man's name and the period of his incumbency. I do
not, however, despair to see these points, with some
others which may elude my sagacity, satisfactorily
elucidated by one or other of the periodical publica*

ItOB ROY. 135

very popular in the city. Educated in the
same religious persuasion, I seriously bent
my mind to join in the devotion of the
day, and it was not till the congregation
resumed their seats that my attention was
diverted to the consideration of the appear-
ance of all around me.

At the conclusion of the prayer, most
of the men put on their hats or bonnets,
and all who had the happiness to have
seats sate down. Andrew and I were not
of this number, having been too late in en-
tering the church to secure such accom-
modation. We stood among a number of
other persons in the same situation, form-
ing a sort of ring around the seated part of
of the congregation. Behind and around

tions which have devoted their pages to explanatory
commentaries on my former volumes ; and whose re-
search and ingenuity claim my peculiar gratitude, for
having discovered many persons and circumstances
connected with my narratives, of which I myself ne-
ver so much as dreamed.

136 ROB ROY.

us were the vaults I have already descri-
bed ; before us the devout audience, dim-
ly shewn by the light which streamed on
their faces, through one or two low Gothic
windows, such as give air and light to
charnel houses. By this were seen the
usual variety of countenances, which are
generally turned towards a Scotch pastor on
such occasions, almost all composed to at-
tention, unless where a father or mother
here and there recalls the wandering eyes
of a lively child, or disturbs the slumbers of
a dull one. The high-boned and harsh
countenance of the nation, with the ex-<
pression of intelligence and shrewdness
which it frequently exhibits, is seen to
more advantage in the act of devotion, or
in the ranks of war, than upon lighter and
more cheerful occasions of assemblage.
The discourse of the preacher was well
qualified to call forth the various feelings
and faculties of his audience.

Age and infirmities had impaired the
powers of a voice originally strong and so-

ROB ROY. 137

norous. He read his text with a pronoun-
ciation somewhat inarticulate ; but when he
closed the Bible, and commenced his ser-
mon, his tones gradually strengthened, as
he entered with vehemence into the argu-
ments which he maintained. They related
chiefly to the abstract points of the chris-
tian faith, subjects grave, deep, and fa-
thomless by mere human reason, but for
which, with equal ingenuity and proprie-
ty, he sought a key in liberal quotations
from the inspired writings. My mind was
unprepared to coincide in all his reasoning,
nor was I sure that in some instances I
rightly comprehended his positions. But
nothing could be more impressive than
the eager enthusiastic manner of the good
old man, and nothing more ingenious than
his mode of reasoning. The Scotch, it
is well known, are more remarkable for
the exercise of their intellectual powers,
than for the keenness of their feelings 5
they are, therefore, more moved by logic
than by rhetoric, and more attracted by
acute and argumentative reasoning on doc-

138 ROB ROY.

trinal points, than influenced by the en-
thusiastic appeals- to the heart and to the
passions, by which popular preachers in
other countries win the favour of their
hearers.

Among the attentive groupe which I
now saw, might be distinguished various
expressions similar to those of the audience
in the famous cartoon of Paul preaching
at Athens. Here sat a zealous and intel-
ligent Calvinist, with brows bent just as
much as to indicate profound attention ;
lips slightly compressed ; eyes fixed on the
minister, with an expression of decent pride,
as if sharing the triumph of his argument ;
the forefinger of the right hand touching
successively those of the left, as the preach-
er, from argument to argument, ascended to-
wards his conclusion. Another, with fiercer
and sterner look, intimated at once his
contempt of all who doubted the creed of
his pastor, and his joy at the appropriate
punishment denounced against them. A
third, perhaps belonging to a different con-
gregation, and present only by accident or

ROB ROY. 139

curiosity, had the appearance of internally
impeaching some link of the reasoning ;
and you might plainly read, in the slight
motion of his head, his doubts as to the
soundness of the preacher's argument*
The greater part listened with a calm sa-
tisfied countenance, expressive of a consci-
ous merit in being present, and in listening
to such an ingenious discourse, although,
perhaps, unable entirely to comprehend it.
The women in general belonged to this
last division of the audience ; the old,
however, seeming more grimly intent upon
the abstract doctrines laid before them ;
while the younger females permitted their
eyes occasionally to make a modest circuit
around the congregation ; and some of
them, Tresham, (if my vanity did not great-
ly deceive me,) contrived to distinguish
your friend and servant, as a handsome
young stranger, and an Englishman. As
to the rest of the congregation, the stu-
pid gaped, yawned, or slept, till awa-
kened by the application of their more

140 ROB ROY,

zealous neighbours' heels to their shins ;
and the idle indicated their inattention by
the wandering of their eyes, but dared
give no more decided token of weariness.
Amid the lowland costume of coat and
cloak, I could here and there discern a
Highland plaid, the wearer of which, rest-
ing on his basket-hilt, sent his eyes among
the audience with the unrestrained curi-
osity of savage wonder ; and who, in all
probability, was inattentive to the sermon,
for a very pardonable reason — because he
did not understand the language in which
it was delivered. The martial and wild
look, however, of these stragglers, added
a kind of character which the congregation
could not have exhibited without them.
They were more numerous, Andrew after-
wards observed, owing to some cattle fair
in the neighbourhood.

Such was the groupe of countenances,
rising tire on tire, discovered to my cri-
tical inspection by such sunbeams as for-
ced their way through the narrow Gothic

ROB ROY. 141

lattices of the Laigh Kirk of Glasgow ;
and having illuminated the attentive con-
gregation, lost themselves in the vacuity of
the vaults behind, giving to the nearer
part of their labyrinth a sort of imperfect
twilight, and leaving their recesses in an ut-
ter darkness, which gave them the appear-
ance of being interminable.

I have already said, that I stood with
others in the exterior circle, with my face
to the preacher, and my back to those vaults
which I have so often mentioned. My po-
sition rendered me particularly obnoxious
to any interruption which arose from any
slight noise occurring amongst these re-
tiring arches, where the least sound was
multiplied by a thousand echoes. The oc-
casional sound of rain-drops, which, admit*
ted through some cranny in the ruined roof,
fell successively, and plashed upon the
pavement beneath, caused me turn my
head more than once to the place from
whence it seemed to proceed ; and when
my eyes took that direction, I found it dif-

142 ROB EOY.

ficuit to withdraw them ; such is the plea-
sure our imagination receives from the at-
tempt to penetrate as far as possible in-
to an intricate labyrinth, imperfectly light-
ed, and exhibiting objects which irritate
our curiosity, only because they acquire a
mysterious interest from being undefined
and dubious. My eyes became habituated
to the gloomy atmosphere to which I di-
rected them, and insensibly my mind be-
came more interested in their discoveries
than in the metaphysical subtleties which
the preacher was enforcing.

My father had often checked me for this
wandering mood of mind, arising perhaps
from an excitability of imagination to which
he was a stranger ; and the finding myself at
present solicited by these temptations to in-
attention, recalled the time when I used to
walk, led by his hand, to Mr Shower's cha-
pel, and the earnest injunctions which he
then laid on me to redeem the time, be-
cause the days were evil. At present, the
picture which my thoughts suggested, far

ROB ROY* 143

from fixing my attention, destroyed the por-
tion I had yet left, by conjuring up to my
recollection the peril in which his affairs
now stood. I endeavoured, in the lowest
whisper I could frame, to request Andrew
to obtain information, whether any of the
gentlemen of the firm of Macvittie, &c.
were at present in the congregation. But
Andrew, wrapped in profound attention to
the sermon, only replied to my suggestion
by hard punches with his elbow, as signals
to me to remain silent. I next strained
my eyes with equally bad success, to see, if
among the sea of up-turned faces, which
bent their eyes on the pulpit as a common
centre, I could discover the sober and bu-
siness-like physiognomy of Owen. But
not among the broad beavers of the Glas-
gow citizens, or the yet broader brimmed
lowland bonnets of the peasants of Lanark-
shire, could I see any thing resembling the
decent periwig, starched ruffles, or the uni-
form suit of light brown garments appertain-

144 rob rot.

ing to the head-clerk of the establishment
of Osbaldistone and Tresham. My anxiety
now returned on me with such violence, as
to overpowTer not only the novelty of the
scene around me, by which it had hitherto
been diverted, but moreover my sense of
decorum. I pulled Andrew hard by the
sleeve, and intimated my wish to leave the
church, and pursue my investigation as I
could. Andrew, obdurate in the Laigh
Kirk of Glasgow, as on the mountains of
Cheviot, for some time deigned me no an-
swer -9 and it was only when he found I
could not otherwise be kept quiet that he
condescended to inform me, that being once
in the church, we could not leave it till ser-
vice was over, because the doors were lock-
ed so soon as the prayers began. Having
thus spoken in a brief and peevish whisper,
Andrew again assumed the air of intelligent
and critical importance, and attention to
the preacher's discourse.

While I endeavoured to make a virtue

ROB ROY. 145

of necessity, and recal my attention to the
sermon, I was again disturbed by a singu-
lar interruption. A voice from behind
whispered distinctly in my ear, " You are
in danger in this city.'' — I turned round
as if mechanically.

One or two starched and ordinary-look-
ing mechanics stood beside and behind me,
stragglers, who, like ourselves, had been
too late in obtaining entrance. But a
glance at their faces satisfied me, though
I could hardly say why, that none of these
was the person who had spoken to me.
Their countenances seemed all compo-
sed to attention to the sermon, and not
one of them returned any glance of in-
telligence to the inquisitive and startled
look with which I surveyed them. A mas-
sive round pillar, which was close behind
us, might have concealed the speaker the
- instant he had uttered his mysterious cau-
tion ; but wherefore it wTas given in such a
place, or to what species of danger it di-
rected my attention, or by whom the warn-

VOL. II. g

146 ROB ROY.

ing was uttered, were points on which my
imagination lost itself in conjecture. It
would, however, I concluded, be repeated,
and I resolved to keep my countenance
turned towards the clergyman, that the
whisperer might be tempted to renew his
communication under the idea that the
rirst had passed unobserved.

My plan succeeded. I had not resumed
the appearance of attention to the preacher
for five minutes, when the same voice whis-
pered, " Listen — but do not look back." I
kept my face in the same direction. " You
are in danger in this place," the voice pro-
ceeded ; " so am I — Meet me to-night on
the Brigg, at twelve preceesely — keep at
home till the gloaming, and avoid observa-
tion."

Here the voice ceased, and I instantly
turned my head. But the speaker had,
with still greater promptitude, glided be-
hind the pillar, and escaped my observa-
tion. I was determined to catch a sight of
him, if possible, and, extricating myself
from the outer circle of hearers, I also

ROB ROY. 147

stepped behind the column. All there was
empty ; and I could only see a figure wrap-
ped in a mantle, whether a Lowland cloak,
or Highland plaid, I could not distinguish,
which traversed, like a phantom, the dreary
vacuity of vaults which I have described.

I made a mechanical attempt to pursue
the mysterious form, which glided away,
and vanished in the vaulted cemetery, like
the spectre of one of the numerous dead
who rested within its precincts. I had
little chance of arresting the course of one
obviously determined not to be spoken
with ; but that little chance was lost by
my stumbling and falling before I had
made three steps from the column. The
obscurity which occasioned my misfortune
covered my disgrace ; which I accounted
rather lucky, for the preacher, with that
stern authority which the Scottish ministers
assume for the purpose of keeping order
in their congregations, interrupted his dis-
course, to desire the " proper officer" to
take into custody the causer of this disturb-
ance in the place of worship. As the noise,

148 ROB ROY.

however, was not repeated, the beadle, or
whatever else he was called, did not think
it necessary to be rigorous in searching out
the offender, so that I was enabled, without
attracting farther observation, to place my-
self by Andrew's side in my original posi-
tion. The service proceeded, and closed
without the occurrence of any thing else
worthy of notice.

As the congregation departed and dis-
persed, my friend Andrew exclaimed —
C( See, yonder is worthy Mr MacVittie and
Mrs MacVittie, and Miss Alison MacVittie,
and Mr Thamas MacFin, that they say is to
marry Miss Alison, if a' bowls row right —
she'll hae a hantle siller, if she's no that
bonnie."

My eyes took the direction he pointed
out. Mr MacVittie was a tall thin elderly
man, with hard features, thick grey eye-
brows, light eyes, and, as I imagined, a
sinister expression of countenance, from
which my heart recoiled. I remembered
the warning I had received in the church,
and hesitated at addressing this person,

ROB ROY. 149

though I could not allege to myself any
rational ground of dislike or suspicion.

I was yet in suspense, when Andrew,
who mistook my hesitation for bashfulness,
proceeded to exhort me to lay it aside.
*c Speak till him— speak till him, Mr Fran-
cis— he's no provost yet, though they say
he'll be my lord neist year. Speak till him,
then — he'll gie ye a decent answer for as
rich as he is, unless ye were wanting siller
frae him — they say he's dour to draw his
purse."

It immediately occurred to me, that if
this merchant were really of the churlish
and avaricious disposition which Andrew
intimated, there might be some caution
necessary in making myself known, as I
could not tell how accounts might stand
between my father and him. This consi-
deration came in aid of the mysterious hint
which I had received, and the dislike which
I had conceived at the man's countenance.
Instead of addressing myself directly to him,
as I had designed to have done, I content-
ed myself with desiring Andrew to enquire

150 ROB ROY.

at Mr MacVittie's house the address of Mr
Owen, an English gentleman, and I charged
him not to mention the person from whom
he received the commission, but to bring
me the result to the small inn where we
lodged. This Andrew promised to do. He
said something of the duty of my attend-
ing the evening service ; but added, with a
causticity natural to him, that " in troth,
if folk could na keep their legs still, but wad
needs be couping the creels ower through-
stanes, as if they wad raise the very dead
folk wi* the clatter, a kirk wi' a chimley
in't was fittest for them."

ROB ROY. 151

CHAPTER VIII.

On the Rialto, every night at twelve,
I take my evening's walk of meditation:

There we two will meet

Venice Preserved,

Full of sinister augury, for which, how-
ever, I could assign no satisfactory cause, 1
shut myself up in my apartment at the inn,
and having dismissed Andrew, after resist-
ing his importunity to accompany him to St
Enoch's Kirk, where, he said, " a soul-
searching divine was to haud forth," I set
myself seriously to consider what were best
to be done. I never was, what is properly
called, superstitious \ but I suppose all men,
in situations of peculiar doubt and difficul-
ty, when they have exercised their reason
to little purpose, are apt, in a sort of des-

152 ROB ROY.

pair, to abandon the reins to their imagina-
tion, and be guided either altogether by
chance, or by those whimsical impressions
which take possession of the mind, and to
which we give way as if to involuntary im-
pulses. There was something so singularly
repulsive in the hard features of the Scotch
trader, that I could not resolve to put my-
self into his hands without transgressing eve-
ry caution which could be derived from the
rules of physiognomy. On the other hand,
the warning voice behind me, the form which
flitted away like a vanishing shadow through
those vaults, which might be termed " the
valley of the shadow of death," had some-
thing captivating for the imagination of a
young man, who, you will farther please to
remember, was a young poet.

If danger was around me, as the mysteri-
ous communication intimated, how could I
learn its nature, or the means of averting
it, but by meeting my unknown counsellor,
to whom I could see no reason for impu-
ting any other than kind intentions. Rash-
leigh and his machinations occurred more

ROB HOY. 153

than once to my remembrance ; but so
rapid had my journey been, that I could
not suppose him apprised of my arrival in
Glasgow, much less prepared to play off
any stratagem against my person. In my
temper also I was bold and confident,
strong and active in person, and in some
measure accustomed to the use of arms,
in which the French youth of all kinds were
then initiated. I did not fear any single
opponent ; assassination was neither the
vice of the age nor of the country ; the
place selected for our meeting was too pub-
lic to admit any suspicion of meditated vio
lence. In a word, I resolved to meet my
mysterious counsellor on the bridge, as he
had requested, and to be afterwards guided
by circumstances. Let me not conceal
from you, Tresham, what at the time I en-
deavoured to conceal from myseif — the sub-
dued, yet secretly-cherished hope, that Di-
ana Vernon might, — by what chance I knew
not, — through what means I could not
guess, — have some connection with this
g 2

154 ROB KOY.

strange and dubious intimation, conveyed
at a time and place, and in a manner so
surprising. She alone, whispered this insidi-
ous hope — she alone knew of my journey —
from her own account, she possessed friends
and influence in Scotland ; — she had fur-
nished me with a talisman, whose power I
was to invoke when all other aid failed me
—who, then, but Diana Vernon possessed
either means, knowledge, or inclination for
averting the dangers, by which, as it seem-
ed, my steps were surrounded. This flat-
tering view of my very doubtful case press-
ed itself upon me again and again. It insi-
nuated itself into my thoughts, though very
bashfully, before the hour of dinner ; it dis-
played its attractions more boldly during
the course of my frugal meal, and became
so courageously intrusive during the suc-
ceeding half hour, (aided perhaps by the
flavour of a few glasses of most excellent
claret) that, with a sort of desperate at-
tempt to escape from a delusive seduction,
to which I felt the danger of yielding, I
pushed my glass from me, threw aside my

ROB ROY. 135

dinner, seized my hat, and rushed into the
open air with the feeling of one who would
fly from his own thoughts. Yet perhaps I
yielded to the very feelings from which I
seemed to fly, since my steps insensibly led
me to the bridge over the Clyde, the place
assigned for the rendezvous by my myste-
rious monitor.

Although I had not partaken of my re-
past until the hours of evening church ser-
vice were over, — in which, by the way, I
complied with the religious scruples of my
landlady, who hesitated to dress a hot din-
ner between sermons, and also with the ad-
monition of my unknown friend, to keep my
apartment till twilight, — several hours had
still to pass away betwixt the time of my
appointment and that at which I reached
the assigned place of meeting. The inter-
val, as you will readily credit, was weari-
some enough ; and I can hardly explain to
you how it passed away. Various groups
of persons, all of whom, young and old,
seemed impressed with a reverential feel-
ing of the sanctity of the day, passed along

156 ROB ROY.

the large open meadow which lies on the
eastern bank of the Clyde, and serves as a
bleaching-rield and pleasure walk for the in-
habitants, or passed with slow steps the
long bridge which communicates with the
western district of the county. All that I
remember of them was the general, yet not
unpleasing intimation of a devotional cha-
racter impressed on each little party, formal-
ly assumed perhaps by some, but sincerely
characterizing the greater number, which
hushed the petulant gaiety of the young
into a tone of more quiet, yet more in-
teresting, interchange of sentiments, and
suppressed the vehement argument and
protracted disputes of those of more advan-
ced age. Notwithstanding the numbers who
passed me, no general sound of the human
voice was heard ; few turned again to take a
few minutes voluntary exercise, to which
the leisure of the evening, and the beauty
of the sarrounding scenery, seemed to in-
vite them : All hurried to their homes and
ng-places. To one accustomed to the
mode of spending Sunday evenings abroad,

ROB ROY. 157

even among the French Calvinists, there
seemed something Judaical, yet at the same
time striking and affecting, in this mode of
keeping the Sabbath holy. Insensibly I felt,
my mode of sauntering by the side of the ri-
ver, and crossing successively the various per-
sons who were passing homeward, and with-
out tarrying or delay, must expose me to ob-
servation at least, if not to censure, and I
slunk out of the frequented path, and found
a trivial occupation for my mind in mar-
shalling my revolving walk in such a man-
ner as should least render me obnoxious to
observation. The different alleys lined out
through this extensive meadow, and which
are planted with trees, like the Park of St
James's, in London, gave me facilities for
carrying into effect these childish manoeu-
vres*

As I walked down one of these avenues,
I heard, to my surprise, the sharp and con-
ceited voice of Andrew Fairservice, raised
by a sense of self-consequence to a pitch
somewhat higher than others seemed to

158 ROB ROY.

think consistent with the solemnity of the
day. To slip behind the row of trees un-
der which I walked was perhaps no very
dignified proceeding, but it was the easiest
mode of escaping his observation, and
perhaps his impertinent assiduity, and still
more intrusive curiosity. As he passed, I
heard him communicate to a grave-looking
man, in a black coat, a slouched hat, and
Geneva cloak, the following sketch of a
character, which my self-love, while revol-
ting against it as a caricature, could not
help recognizing as a likeness.

" Ay, av, Mr Hammorgaw, it's e'en as I
tell ye — He's no a' together sae void o' sense
neither ; he has a gloaming sight o' what's
reasonable — that is anes and awa' — a glisk
and nae mair — but he's crack-brained and
cockle-headed about his nipperty-tipperty
poetry nonsense — He'll glowr at an auld
warld barkit aik-snag as if it were a queez-
maddam in full bearing ; and a naked
craig wi' a burn jawing ower't is unto him
as a garden garnisht with flowering knots

ROB ROY. 159

and choice pot-herbs ; then, he wad rather
claver wi' a daft quean they ca' Diana Ver-
non (weel I wot they might ca' her Diana
of the Ephesians, for she's little better than
a heathen — better ? she's waur — a Roman
n — a mere Roman) — He'll claver wi' her, or
ony ither idle slut, rather than hear what
might do him gude a' the days o' his life,
frae you or me, Mr Hammorgaw, or ony
ither sober and sponsible person. Reason,
sir, is what he canna endure — he's a' for
your vanities and volubilities ; and he
ance tell'd me, (puir blinded creature)
that the Psalms of David were excellent
poetry ! as if the holy Psalmist thought o'
rattling rhymes in a bladder, like his ain
silly clinkum-clankum things that he ea's
verse. Gude help him ! twa lines o' Davie
Lindsay wad ding a' he ever clerkit."

While listening to this perverted account
of my temper and studies, you will not be sur-
prised if I meditated for Mr Fairservice the
unpleasant surprise of a broken pate on the
first decent opportunity. His friend only in-

160 ROB ROY.

timated his attention by " Ay, ay," and " Is't
e'en sae ?" and such like expressions of in-
terest at the proper breaks in Mr Fairser-
vice's harangue, until at length, in answer
to some observation of greater length, the
import of which I only collected from my
trusty guide's reply, honest Andrew an-
swered, " Tell him a bit o' my mind, quoth
ye ? — Wha wad be fule then but Andrew ?
— He's a red-wud devil, man ! — He's like
Giles Heathertap's auld boar ; ye need but
shake a clout at him to make him turn and
gore. Bide wi' him, say ye ? — Troth, I
kenna wThat for I bide wi' him mysell — But
the lad's no a bad lad after a' •> and he
needs some carefu' body to look after him.
He hasna the right grip o' his hand — the
gowd slips through't like water, man ; and
it's no that ill a thii to be near him when
his purse is in his hand, and it's seldom out
o't. And then he's come o' gude kith and
kin — My heart warms to the puir thought-
less callant, Mr Hammorgaw — and then the
penny fee"- —

ROB ROY. 161

In the latter part of this instructive com-
munication, Mr Fairservice lowered his
voice to a tone better beseeming the con-
versation in a place of public resort on a
Sabbath evening, and his companion and
he were soon beyond my hearing. My
feelings of hasty resentment soon subsided
under the conviction, that, as Andrew him-
self might have said, " A hearkener always
hears a bad tale of himself," and that who-
ever should happen to overhear their charac-
ter discussed in their own servants'- hall, must
prepare to undergo the scalpel of such an
anatomist as Mr Fairservice. The incident
was so far useful, as, including the feelings
to which it gave rise, it sped away a part
of the time which hung so heavily on my
hand.

Evening had now closed, and the grow-
ing darkness gave to the broad, still, and
deep expanse of the brimful river, first a
hue sombre and uniform, then a dismal
and turbid appearance, partially lighted by
a waning and pallid moon. The massive
and ancient bridge which stretches across

162 ROB ROY.

the river, was now but dimly visible, and
resembled that which Mirza, in his unequal-
led vision, has described as traversing the
valley of Bagdad. The low-browed arches,
seen as imperfectly as the dusky current
which they bestrode, seemed rather caverns
which swallowed up the gloomy waters of
the river, than apertures contrived for their
passage. With the advancing night the
stillness of the scene increased. There was
yet a twinkling light occasionally seen to
glide along by the river, which conducted
home one or two of the small parties, who,
after the abstinence and religious duties of
the day, had partaken of a social supper,
the only meal at which the rigid presby-
terians made some advance to sociality
on the Sabbath. Occasionally, also, the
hoofs of a horse were heard, whose rider,
after spending the Sunday in Glasgow, was
directing his steps towards his residence in
the country. These sounds and sights be-
came gradually of more rare occurrence.
At length they altogether ceased, and I
was left to enjoy my solitary walk on the

ROB ROY. 163

shores of the Clyde in solemn silence, bro-
ken only by the tolling of the successive
hours from the steeples of the churches.

But as the night advanced, my impa-
tience at the uncertainty of the situation
in which I was placed increased every mo-
ment, and became nearly ungovernable.
I began to question whether I had been
imposed upon by the trick of a fool, the
raving of a madman, or the studied ma-
chination of a villain, and paced the lit-
tle sort of quay or pier adjoining to the
entrance to the bridge in a state of in*
credible anxiety and vexation. At length
the hour of twelve o'clock swung its sum-
mons over the city from the belfrey of the
metropolitan church of St Mungo, and was
answered and vouched by all the others like
dutiful diocesans. The echoes had scarcely
ceased to repeat the last sound, when a hu-
man form — the first I had seen for two
hours — appeared passing along the bridge
from the western shore of the river. I ad-
vanced to meet him with a feeling as if my

16-1 ROB ROY.

fate depended on the result of the inter-
view, so much had my anxiety been wound
up by protracted expectation. All that I
could remark of the passenger as we ad van-
ced towards each other was, that his frame
was rather beneath than above the middle
size, but apparently strong, thick-set, and
muscular ; his dress a horseman's wrapping-
coat. I slackened my pace, and almost pau-
sed as I advanced, in expectation that he
would address me. But to my inexpressible
disappointment, he passed without speaking,
and I had no pretence for being the first to
address one, who, notwithstanding his ap-
pearance at the very hour of appointment,
might, nevertheless, be an absolute stran-
ger. I stopped after he had passed me, and
looked after him, uncertain whether I ought
not to follow him. The stranger walked on
till near the eastern end of the bridge, then
paused, looked back, and turning round,
again advanced towards me. I resolved
that this time he should not have the apo-
logy for silence proper to apparitions, who,

ROB ROY. 165

it is vulgarly supposed, cannot speak until
they are spoken to. " You walk late, sir,"
said I, as we met a second time.

" I bide tryste," was the reply, " and so
I think do you, Mr Osbaldistone."

<c You are then the person who request-
ed me to meet you here at this unusual
hour ?"

u I am," he replied. " Follow me, and
you shall know my reason."

" Before following you, I must know
your name and purpose," 1 answered.

"lama man," was the reply ; " and my
purpose is friendly to you."

" A man ?" I repeated. " That is a very
brief description."

" It will serve for one who has no other
to give," said the stranger. " He that is
without name, without friends, without
coin, without country, is still at least a man j
and he that has a' these is no more."

" Yet this is still too general an account
of yourself, to say the least of it, to establish
your credit with a stranger."

166 ROB ROY.

" It is all I mean to give, howsoe'er ; you
may chuse to follow me, or to remain with-
out the information I desire to afford you."

" Can you not give me that information
here ?" I answered.

" You must receive it from your eyes,
not from my tongue — you must follow me,
or remain in ignorance of the information
which I have to give you."

There was something short, determined,
and even stern in the man's manner, not
certainly well calculated to conciliate un-
doubting confidence.

" What is it you fear ?" he said impa-
tiently. " To whom, think ye, your life is
of such consequence, that they should seek
to bereave ye of it ?"

" I fear nothing," I replied firmly, though
somewhat hastily. " Walk on — I attend
you."

We proceeded, contrary to my expecta-
tion, to re-enter the town, and glided like
mute spectres, side by side, up its empty
and silent streets. The high and gloomy

ROB ROY. 167

stone-fronts, with the variegated ornaments
and pediments of the windows, looked yet
taller and more sable by the imperfect
moon-shine. Our walk was for some mi-
nutes in perfect silence. At length my
conductor spoke.

" Are you afraid ?"

* I retort your own words," I replied ;
" wherefore should I fear ?"

" Because you are with a stranger — per-
haps an enemy, in a place where you have
no friends and many enemies."

" I neither fear you nor them ; I am
young, active, and armed,"

" I am not armed," replied my conduc-
tor ; " but no matter, a willing hand never
lacked weapon. You say you fear nothing j
but if you knew who was by your side, per-
haps you might underlie a tremor."

" And why should I ?" replied I. « I
again repeat, I fear nought that you can
do."

" Nought that I can do ? — Be it so. But
do you not fear the consequences of being

8

168 HOB ROY.

found with one whose very name whispered
in this lonely street would make the stones
themselves rise up to apprehend him — on
whose head half the men in Glasgow would
build their fortune as on a found treasure,
had they the luck to grip him by the col-
lar— the sound of whose apprehension were
as welcome at the Cross of Edinburgh as
ever the news of a field stricken and won
in Flanders."

" And who then are you, whose name
should create so deep a feeling of terror ?"
I replied.

" No enemy of yours, since I am con-
veying you to a place, where, were I my-
self recognised and identified, irons to the
heels, and hemp to the craig, would be my
brief dooming."

I paused and stood still on the pavement,
drawing back so as to have the most per-
fect view of my companion which the light
afforded, and which was sufficient to guard
me against any sudden motion of assault.
" You have said," I answered, " either

ROB ROY. 169

too much or too little — too much to induce
me to confide in you as a mere stranger,
since you avow yourself a person amenable
to the laws of the country in which we
are — and too little, unless you could shew
that you are unjustly subjected to their
rigour."

As I ceased to speak, he made a step to-
wards me. I drew back instinctively, and
laid my hand on the hilt of my sword.

u What," said he, " on an unarmed man,
and your friend ?"

" I am yet ignorant if you are either the
one or the other," replied I > " and, to say
the truth, your language and manner might
well entitle me to doubt both."

" It is manfully spoken," replied my
conductor ; " and 1 respect him whose
hand can keep his head. — 1 will be frank
and free with you — 1 am conveying you to
prison."

" To prison !" I exclaimed ; " by what
warrant, or for what offence ; — You shall
have my lite sooner than my liberty — I defy

vol. 11. H

170 ROB HOY.

you, and I will not follow you a step far-
ther."

" I do not," he said, " carry you there as
a prisoner. I am," he added, drawing him-
self haughtily up, " neither a messenger
nor sheriff's officer ; I carry you to see a
prisoner from whose lips you will learn the
risk in which you presently stand. Your
liberty is little risked by the visit ; mine is
in some peril ; but that I readily encounter
on your account, for I care not for risk,
and 1 love a free young blood, that kens no
protector but the cross o' the swTord."

While he spoke thus we had reached the
principal street, and were pausing before a
large building of hewn stone, garnished, as
I thought 1 could perceive, with gratings
of iron before the windows.

" Muckle," said the stranger, whose lan-
guage became more broadly national as he
assumed a tone of colloquial freedom —
<c Muckle wad the provost and baillies o'
Glasgow gie to hae him sitting with iron
garters to his hose within their tolbooth,

6

ItOB ROY. 171

that now stands wi' his legs as free as the
red deer's on the outside on't And little
wad it avail them ; for an' if they had me
there wi' a stane's weight o* iron at every
ancle, I would shew them a toom room and
a lost lodger before to-morrow— But come
on, what stint ye for ?"

As he spoke thus, he -tapped a low wick-
et, and was answered by a sharp voice, as
of one awakened from a dream or reverie,
— " Fa's tat ?— Wha's that, I wad say ?—
and fat a de'il want ye at this hour at een ?
— clean again rules — clean again rules, as
they ca' them."

The protracted tone in which the last
words were uttered, betokened that the
speaker was again composing himself to
slumber. But my guide spoke in a loud
whisper, " Dougal, man ! hae ye forgotten
Ha nun Gregarach ?"

" Deil a bit, deil a bit," was the ready
and lively response, and I heard the inter-
nal guardian of the prison-gate bustle up
with great alacrity, A few words were ex-

172 ROB ROY.

changed between my conductor and the
turnkey, in a language to which I was an
absolute stranger. The bolts revolved, but
with a caution which marked the apprehen-
sion that the noise might be overheard, and
we stood within the vestibule of the prison
of Glasgow, a small, but strong guard-room,
from which a narrow stair-case led upwards,
and one or two low entrances conducted to
apartments on the same level with the
outward gate, all secured with the jealous
strength of wickets, bolts, and bars. The
walls, otherwise naked, were not unsuitably
garnished with iron fetters, and other un-
couth implements, which might be design-
ed for purposes still more inhuman, inter-
spersed with partizans, guns, pistols of an-
tique manufacture, and other weapons of
defence and offence.

At finding myself so unexpectedly fortui-
tously, and, as it were, by stealth, introduced
within one of the legal fortresses of Scot-
land, I could not help recollecting my ad-
venture in Northumberland, and fretting at

ROB ROY. 173

the strange incidents which again, without
any demerits of my own, threatened to
place me in a dangerous and disagreeable
collision with the laws of the country, which
I visited only in the capacity of a stranger.

174 ROB ROY.

CHAPTER IX.

" Look round thee, young Astolpho : Here's the place
Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in, —
Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease.
Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench,
Doth Hope's fair torch expire ; and at the snuff,
Ere yet 'tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and wayward,
The desperate revelries of wild despair,
Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds
That the poor captive would have died ere practised,
Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition."

The Prison, Scene III. Act L

At my first entrance I turned an eager
glance towards my conductor ; but the lamp
in the vestibule was too low in flame to
give my curiosity any satisfaction by afford-
ing a distinct perusal of his features. As
the turnkey held the light in his hands, the
beams fell more full on his own less interest-
ing figure. He was a wrild shock. headed
looking animal, whose profusion of red hair

ROB ROY. 175

covered and obscured his features, which
were otherwise only characterized by the
extravagant joy that affected him at the
sight of my guide. In my experience I
have met nothing so absolutely resembling
my idea of a very uncouth, wild, and ugly
savage adoring the idol of his tribe. He
grinned, he shivered, he laughed, he was
near crying, if he did not actually cry. He
had a M Where shall I go ? — What can I
do for you ?" expression of face ; the com-
plete, surrendered, and anxious subservi-
ence and devotion of which it is difficult
to describe, otherwise than by the awk-
ward combination which I have attempted.
The fellow's voice seemed choking in his
ecstacy, and only could express itself in
such interjections as w Oigh, oigh, — Aye,
aye — it's lang since she's seen ye !" and
other exclamations equally brief, expressed
in the same unknown tongue in which he
had communicated with my conductor while
we were on the outside of the jail door.
My guide received all this excess of joyful

176 ROB ROY.

gratulation much like a prince too early
accustomed to the homage of those around
him to be much moved by it, yet willing to
requite it by the usual form of royal cour-
tesy. He extended his hand graciously to-
wards the turnkey, with a civil enquiry of
rt How's a' wi' you, Dougal ?"

" Oigh, oigh !" exclaimed Dougal, soft-
ening the sharp exclamations of his surprise
as he looked around with an eye of watch-
ful alarm — " oigh, to see you here — to see
you here — Oigh, what will come o' ye gin
the baillies sud come to get witting — ta
filthy, gutty hallions, tat they are."

My guide placed his finger on his lip,
and said, " Fear nothing, Dougal ; your
hands shall never draw a bolt on me,"

" Tat sail they no," said Dougal ; " she
suld — she wad — that is, she wishes them
hacked aff by the elbows first — But when
are ye gaun yonder again ? and ye'll no
forget to let her ken — she's your puir cou-
sin, God kens, only seven times removed,"

ROB ROY. 177

" I will let you ken, Dougal, so soon as
my plans are settled."

(C And, by her sooth, when you do, an
it were twal o' the Saturday at e'en, she'll
fling her keys at the provost's head or she
gie them anither turn, and that or ever Sab-
bath morning begins— see if she winna."

My mysterious stranger cut his acquaint-
ance's ecstasies short by again addressing
him, in what I afterwards understood to be
the Irish, Earse, or Gaelic, explaining, pro-
bably, the services which he required at his
hand. The answer, " Wi' a' her heart —
wi' a' her soul," with a good deal of indis-
tinct muttering in a similar tone, intimated
the turnkey's acquiescence in what he pro-
posed. The fellow trimmed his dying lamp,
and made a sign to me to follow him.

" Do you not go with us ?" said I, look-
ing to my conductor.

u It is unnecessary," he replied ; " my
company may be inconvenient for you, and
I had better remain to secure our retreat."
i-i 2

178 ROB ROY.

" I do not suppose you mean to betray
me to danger," said I.

" To nane but what I partake in dou-
bly," answered the stranger, with a voice
of assurance which it was impossible to mis-
trust.

I followed the turnkey, who, leaving the
inner wicket unlocked behind him, led me
up a turnpike, (so the Scotch call a wind-
ing stair,) then along a narrow gallery, —
then opening one of several doors which
led into the passage, he ushered me into
a small apartment, and casting his eye on
the pallet-bed which occupied one corner,
said, with an under voice, as he placed
the lamp on a little deal table, " She's
sleeping."

" She ! — who ? — can it be Diana Vernon
in this abode of misery ?"

I turned my eye to the bed, and it was
with a mixture of disappointment oddly
mingled with pleasure, that I sawr my first
suspicion had disappointed me. I saw a
head neither young nor beautiful, garnished

ROB ROY. 179

with a grey beard of two days' growth, and
accommodated with a red night cap. The
first glance put me at ease on the score of
Diana Vernon ; the second, as the slum-
berer awoke from a heavy sleep, yawned,
and rubbed his eyes, presented me with
features very different indeed — even those
of my poor friend Owen. I drew back out
of view an instant, that he might have time
to recover himself; fortunately recollecting
that I was but an intruder on these cells of
sorrow, and that any alarm might be at-
tended with unhappy consequences.

Meantime, the unfortunate formalist, rai-
sing himself from the pallet-bed with the
assistance of one hand, and scratching his
cap with the other, exclaimed, in a voice in
which as much peevishness as he wTas capa-
ble of feeling, contended with drowsiness,
" I'll tell you what, Mr Dugwell, or what-
ever your name may be, the sum total of
the matter is, that if my natural rest is to
be broken in this manner, I must complain
to the lord mayor."

180 ROB ROY.

" Shentleman's to speak wi' her," replied
Dougal, resuming the true dogged sullen
tone of a turnkey, in exchange for the
shrill clang of Highland congratulation with
which he had welcomed my mysterious
guide ; and turning on his heel, he left the
apartment.

It was some time before I could prevail
upon the unfortunate sleeper awakening to
recognize me \ and when he did so, the dis-
tress of the worthy creature was extreme,
at supposing, which he naturally did, that
I had been sent thither as a partner of his
captivity.

" O, Mr Frank, what have you brought
yourself and the house to ? — I think no-
thing of myself, that am a mere cypher, so
to speak ; but you that was your father's sum
total — his omnium — that might have been
the first man in the first house in the first
city, to be shut up in a nasty Scotch jail,
where one cannot even get the dirt brushed
off their clothes*"

ROB ROY. 181

He rubbed, with an air of peevish irrita-
tion, the x>yicq stainless brown coat which
had now shared some of the impurities of
the floor of his prison-house, — his habits of
extreme punctilious neatness acting me-
chanically to increase his distress.

* O Heaven be gracious to us !" he con-
tinued. " What news this will be in the
'Change ! There has not the like come
there since the battle of Almanza, where
the total of the British loss was summed
up to five thousand men killed and wound-
ed, besides a floating balance of missing —
but what will that be to the news that Os-
baldistone and Tresham have stopped ?"

I broke in on his lamentations to acquaint
him, that I was no prisoner, though scarce
able to account for my being in that place
at such an hour. I could only silence his
enquiries by persisting in those which his
own situation suggested ; and at length ob-
tained from him such information as he was
able to give me. It was none of the most
distinct j for, howrever clear-headed in his

182 ROB ROY.

own routine of commercial business, Owen,
you are well aware, was not very acute in
comprehending what lay beyond that sphere.
The sum of his information was, that of
two correspondents of my father's firm at
Glasgow, where, owing to engagements in
Scotland, formerly alluded to, he transact-
ed a great deal of business, both my fa-
ther and Owen had found the house of
MacVittie, MacFin, and Company, the
most obliging and accommodating. They
had deferred to the great English house on
every possible occasion ; and in their bar-
gains and transactions acted, without re-
pining, the part of the jackall, who only
claims what the lion is pleased to leave
him. However small the share of profit
allotted to them, it was always, as they ex-
pressed, " enough for the like of them ;"
however large the portion of trouble,
" they were sensible they could not do too
much to deserve the continued patronage
and good opinion of their honoured friends
in Crane Alley."

ROB ROY. 183

The dictates of my father were to Mac-
Vittie and MacFin the laws of the Medes
and Persians, not to be altered, innovated,
or even discussed ; and the punctilios ex-
acted by Owen in their business transac-
tions, for he was a great lover of form, more
especially when he could dictate it ex ca-
thedra, seemed scarce less sanctimonious in
their eyes. This tone of deep and respect-
ful observance went all currently down
with Owen ; but my father looked a little
closer into men's bosoms, and whether sus-
picious of this excess of deference, or, as a
lover of brevity and simplicity in business,
tired with these gentlemen's long-winded
professions of regard, he had uniformly re-
sisted their desire to become his sole agents
in Scotland. On the contrary, he transact-
ed many affairs through a correspondent
of a character perfectly different, — a man
whose good opinion of himself amount-
ed to self-conceit, and who, disliking the
English in general as much as my father
did the Scotch, would hold no communica-

184 ROB ROY.

tion but on a footing of absolute equality ;
jealous, moreover \ captious occasionally ;
as tenacious of his own opinions in point of
form as Owen could be of his ; and totally
indifferent, though the authority of all
Lombard-Street stood against his own pri-
vate opinion.

As these peculiarities of temper rendered
it difficult to do business with Mr Nicol
Jarvie, — as they occasioned at times dis-
putes and coldness between the English
house and their correspondent, which were
only got over by a sense of mutual interest,
as, moreover, Owen's personal vanity some-
times suffered a little in the discussions to
which they gave rise, you cannot be sur*
prised, Tresham, that our old friend threw
at all times the weight of his influence in
favour of the civil, discreet, accommoda-
ting concern of MacVittie and MacFin,
and spoke of Jarvie as a petulant, conceit-
ed Scotch pedlar, with whom there was no
doing business.

It was also not surprising, that in these
4

HOB ROY. 185

circumstances, which I only learned in de-
tail some time afterwards, Owen, in the dif-
ficulties to which the house were reduced
by the absence of my father, and the disap-
pearance of Rashleigh, should, on his arri-
val in Scotland, which took place two days
before mine, have recourse to the friend-
ship of those correspondents, who had al-
ways professed themselves obliged, grati-
fied, and devoted to the service of his prin-
cipal. He was received at Messrs Mac-
Vittie and MacFin's counting-house, in the
Gallowgate, with something like the devo-
tion a Catholic would pay to his tutelar
saint ! But alas ! this sunshine was soon
overclouded, when, encouraged by the fair
hopes which it inspired, he opened the
difficulties of the house to his friendly cor-
respondents, and requested their counsel
and assistance. MacVittie was almost
stunned by the communication ; and Mac-
Fin, ere it was completed, was already at
the ledger of their firm, and in the very
bowels of the multitudinous accounts be-

186 ROB ROY.

tvveen their house and that of Osbaldistone
and Tresham, for the purpose of discover-
ing on which side the balance lay. Alas !
the scale depressed considerably against the
English firm ; and the faces of MacVittie
and MacFin, hitherto only blank and doubt-
ful, became now ominous, grim, and lower-
ing. They met Mr Owen's request of coun-
tenance and assistance with a counter-de-
mand of instant security against imminent
hazard of eventual loss ; and at length,
speaking more plainly, required that a de-
posit of assetts, destined for other purposes,
should be placed in their hands for that
purpose. Owen repelled this demand with
great indignation, as dishonourable to his
constituents, unjust to the other creditors
of Osbaldistone and Tresham, and very
ungrateful on the part of those by whom
it was made.

The Scotch partners gained, in the course
of this controversy, what is very convenient
to persons who are in the wrong, an oppor-
tunity and pretext for putting themselves

ROB ROY. 187

into a violent passion, and for taking, un-
der the pretext of the provocation they had
received, measures to which some sense of
decency, if not of conscience, might other-
wise have deterred them from resorting.

Owen had a small share, as I believe is
usual, in the house to which he acted as
head clerk, and was therefore personally
liable for all its obligations. This was
known to Messrs MacVittie and MacFin,
and, with a view of making him feel their
power, or rather in order to force him, at
this emergency, into those measures in their
favour, to which he had expressed himself
so repugnant, they had recourse to a sum-
mary process of arrest and imprisonment,
which it seems the law of Scotland (therein
surely liable to much abuse) allows to a
creditor who finds his conscience at liberty
to make oath that the debtor meditates de-
parting from the realm. Under such a
warrant had poor Owen been confined to
durance upon the day preceding that when
I was so strangely guided to his prison-
house.

188 ROB ROY.

Thus possessed of the alarming outline
of facts, the question remained, what was
to be done ? and it was not of easy deter-
mination. I plainly perceived the perils
with which we were surrounded, but it was
more difficult to suggest any remedy. The
warning which I had already received seem-
ed to intimate, that my own personal liber-
ty might be endangered by an open appear-
ance in Owen's behalf. Owen entertained
the same apprehension, and in the exagge-
ration of his terror, assured me that a Scotch-
man, rather than run the risk of losing a far-
thing by an Englishman, would find law for
arresting his wife, children, man-servant,
maid-servant, and stranger within his house-
hold. The laws concerning debt, in most
countries, are so unmercifully severe, that
I could not altogether misbelieve his state-
ment ; and my arrest, in the present cir-
cumstances, would have been a conp-de-
grace to my father's affairs. In this dilem-
ma, I asked Owen if he had not thought of

hob roy, 189

having recourse to my father's other corres-
pondent in Glasgow, Mr Nicol Jarvie ?

" He had sent him a letter," he replied,
" that morning; but if the smooth-tongued
and civil house in the Gallowgate had used
him thus, what was to be expected from the
cross-grained crab-stock in the Salt-Mar-
ket ? You might as well ask a broker to
give up his per centage, as expect a favour
from him without the per contra. He had
not even," Owen said, " answered his let-
ter, though it was put into his hand that
morning as he went to church." And here
the despairing man-of-figures threw himself
down on his pallet, exclaiming, — M My poor
dear master ! — My poor dear master ! O,
Mr Frank, Mr Frank, this is all your obsti-
nacy ! — But God forgive me for saying so
to you in your distress ! It's God's dispo-
sing, and man must submit."

My philosophy, Tresham, could not pre-
vent my sharing in the honest creature's
distress, and we mingled our tears, the more
bitter on my part, as the perverse opposi-

190 ROB ROY.

tion to my father's will, with which the kind-
hearted Owen forbore to upbraid me, rose
up to my conscience as the cause of all this
affliction.

In the midst of our mingled sorrow, we
were disturbed and surprised by a loud
knocking at the outward door of the pri-
son. I ran to the top of the stair- case to
listen, but could only hear the voice of the
turnkey, alternately in a high tone, answer-
ing to some person without, and in a whis-
per, addressed to the person who had gui-
ded me hither : " She's coming — she's co-
ming," aloud ; then in a low key, " O hon-a-
ri ! O hon-a-ri ! what'll she do now ? — Gang
up ta stair, and hide yoursell ahint ta Sas-
senach shentleman's ped. — She's coming as
fast as she can — Ahellanay ! its my lord
provosts, and ta paillies, and ta guard — and
the captain's coming toon stairs too — Got
pless her ! gang up or he meets her. — She's
coming — she's coming — ta lock's sair roost-
ed."

While Dougal unwillingly, and with as

ROB ROY. 191

much delay as possible, undid the various
fastenings to give admittance to those with-
out, whose impatience became clamorous,
my guide ascended the winding stair, and
sprang into Owen's apartment into which I
followed him. He cast his eyes hastily
round as if for a place of concealment, then
said to me, tc Lend me your pistols — yet
it's no matter, I can do without them —
Whatever you see take no heed, and dinna
mix your hand in another man's feud — This
gear's mine, and I maun manage it as I
dow ; but I have been as hard bested, and
worse than I am even now."

As the stranger spoke these words, he
stripped from his person the cumbrous up-
per coat in which he was wrapt, confront-
ed the door of the apartment, on which he
fixed a keen and determined glance, draw-
ing his person a little back to concentrate
his force, like a fine horse brought up to
the leaping-bar. I had not a moment's doubt
that he meant to extricate himself from his
embarrassment, whatever might be the

192! ROB ROY.

cause of it, by springing full upon those
who should appear when the doors opened,
and forcing his way through all opposition
into the street ; and such was the appear-
ance of strength and agility displayed in
his frame, and of determination in his look
and manner, that I did not doubt a mo-
ment but that he would get clear through
his opponents, unless they employed fatal
means to stop his purpose.

It was a moment of awful suspense be-
twixt the opening of the outward gate and
that of the door of the apartment, when
there appeared — no guard with bayonets
fixed, or watch with clubs, bills, or parti-
zans, but a good-looking young woman,
with grogram petticoats, tucked up for
trudging through the streets, and a lantern
in her hand. This female ushered in a more
important personage, in form stout, short,
and somewhat corpulent ; and by dignity, as
it soon appeared, a magistrate, bob-wigged,
bustling, and breathless with peevish impa-
tience. My conductor, at his appearance,

ROB ROY. 19$

drew back as if to escape observation ; but
he could not elude the penetrating twinkle
with which this dignitary reconnoitred the
whole apartment.

" A bonnie thing it is, and a beseeming,
that I should be kept at the door half an
hour, Captain Stanchells," said he, address-
ing the principal jailor, who now showed
himself at the door as if in attendance on
the great man, " knocking as hard to get
into the tolbooth as ony body else wad to
get out of it, could that avail them, poor
fallen creatures ! — And how's this?— how's
this ? — strangers in the jail after lock-up
hours! — I shall look after this, Stanchells,
ye may depend on't— Keep the door lock-
it, and I'll speak to these gentlemen in a
ghffing — But first I maun hae a crack wi*
an auld acquaintance here. — Mr Owtn, Mr
Owen, how's a' wi' ye, man ?"

" Pretty well in body, 1 thank you, Mr
Jarvie," drawled out poor Owen, " but sure
afflicted in spirit."

,, Nae doubt, nae doubt — ay, ay — it's an

VOL. II. I

1$4 ROB ROY*

awfu' whummle — and for ane that held his
head sae high too — human nature, human
nature — Ay, ay, we're a' subject to a down-
come. Mr Osbaldistone is a good honest
gentleman ; but I aye said he was ane o'
them wad m^ke a spune or spoil a horn, as
my father, the worthy deacon, used to say.
The deacon used to say to me, < Nick —
young Nick,' (his name was Nicol as weel
as mine ; sae folk ca'd us in their daffin*
young Nick and auld Nick)—* Nick,' said
he, ' never put out your arm farther than
you can draw it easily back again.' I hae
said sae to Mr Osbaldistone, and he didna
seem to take it a'together sae kind as I
meant— but it was weel meant— weel meant."
This discourse, delivered with prodigious
volubility, and a great appearance of self-
complacency, as he recollected his own ad-
vice and predictions, gave little promise of
assistance at the hands of Mr Jarvie. Yet
it soon appeared rather to proceed from a
total want of delicacy than any deficiency of

real kindness j for when Owen expressed
11

ROB ROY. 193

himself somewhat hurt that these things
should be recalled to memory in his present
situation, the Glaswegian took him by the
hand, and bade him " Cheer up a gliff! D'ye
think I wad hae corned out at twal o'clock
at night, and amaist broken the Lord's- day,
just to tell a fa'en man o' his backslidings ?
Na, na, that's no Baillie Jarvie's gait, nor
was't his worthy fathers, the deacon, afore
him. Why, man ! it's my rule never to
think on warldly business on the Sabbath,
and though I did a' I could to keep your
note that I gat this morning out o' my
head, yet I thought mair on it a' day
than on the preaching — And it's my rule
to gang to my bed wi' the yellow curtains
preceesely at ten o'clock — unless I were
eating a haddock wi' a neighbour, or a
neighbour wi' me — ask the lass-quean there,
if it isna a fundamental rule in my house-
hold ; and here hae I sitten up reading gude
books, and gaping as if I wad swallow St
Enox Kirk, till it chappit twal, whilk was
a lawfu' hour to gie a look at my ledger

196 ROB ROY.

just to see how things stood between us ;
and then, as time and tide wait for nae man,
I made the lass get the lanthorn, and came
slipping my ways here to see what can be
dune anent your affairs. Bail lie Jarvie can
command entrance into the tclbooth at ony
hour, day or night ; sae could my father,
the deacon, in his time, honest man, praise
to his memory."

Although Owen groaned at the mention
of the ledger, leading me grievously to fear
that here also the balance stood in the
wrong column ; and although the worthy
magistrate's speech expressed much self-
complacency, and some ominous triumph
in his own superior judgment, yet it was
blended with a sort of frank and blunt
good-nature, from which I could not help
deriving some hopes. He requested to see
some papers he mentioned, snatched them
hastily from Owen's hand, and sitting on
the bed, to ,c rest his shanks," as he was
pleased to express the accommodation which
that posture afforded him, his servant girl

ROB ROY. 197

held up the lanthorn to him, while pshaw-
ing, muttering, and sputtering, now at the
imperfect light, now at the contents of the
packet, he ran over the writings it con-
tained.

Seeing him fairly engaged in this course
of study, the guide who had brought me
hither seemed disposed to take an uncere-
monious leave. He made a sign to me to
say nothing, and intimated, by his change
of posture, an intention to glide towards
the door in such a manner as to attract the
least possible observation. But the alert
magistrate (very different from my old ac-
quaintance Mr Justice Inglewood,) instant-
ly detected and interrupted his purposes.
41 I say, look to the door, Stanchells — shut
and lock it, and keep wTatch on the out-
side."

The stranger's brow darkened, and he
seemed for an instant again to meditate the
effecting his retreat by violence ; but ere he
had determined, the door closed and the
ponderous bolt revolved. He muttered an
exclamation in Gaelic, strode across the

198 ROB ROY.

floor, and then, with an air of dogged reso-
lution, as if prepared to see the scene to an
end, sate himself down on the oak table and
whistled a strathspey.

Mr Jarvie, who seemed very alert and
expeditious in going through business, soon
shewed himself master of that which he had
been considering, and addressed himself to
Mr Owen in the following strain : " Weel,
Mr Owen, weel — your house are awn cer-
tain sums to Messrs MacVittie and Mac-
Fin (shame fa* their souple snouts, they
made that and mair out o' a bargain about
Ihe aik- woods at Glen-Cailziechat, that they
took out atween my teeth — wi' help o' your
good word I maun needs say, Mr Owen —
but that makes nae odds now). — Weel, sir,
your house awes them this siller; and for
this, and relief of other engagements they
stand in for you, they hae putten a double
turn o' StanchelPs muckle key on ye. —
Weel, sir, ye awe this siller — and maybe ye
awe some mair to some other body too —
maybe ye awe some to mysell, Baillie Ni-
col Jarvie."

ItOB ROY. 199

" I cannot deny, sir, but the balance
may of this date be brought out against us,
Mr Jarvie," said Owen ; " but you'll please
to consider"

" I hae nae time to consider e'enow, Mr
Owen — Sae near Sabbath at e'en, and out
o' ane's warm bed at this time o' night, and
a sort o' drow in the air besides — there's
nae time for considering — But, sir, as I was
saying, ye awe me money ^— it winna deny
— ye awe me money, less or mair, I'll stand
by it — But then, Mr Owen, I canna see how
you, an active man that understands busi-
ness, can redd out the business ye're come
down about, and clear us a' aff — as I have
gritt hope ye will — if ye're keepit lying here
in the toibooth of Glasgow — Now, sir, if
ye can find caution jiidicio sisti, that is,
that ye winna flee the country, but appear
and relieve your caution when ca'd for in
our legal courts, ye may be set at liberty
this very morning."

" Mr Jarvie," said Owen, " if any friend
would become surety for me to that effect,

200 ROB ROY.

my liberty might be usefully employed,
doubtless, both for the house and all con-
nected with it."

" Aweel, sir," continued Jarvie, " and
doubtless such a friend wad expect ye to
appear when ca'd on, and relieve him o' his
engagement."

r " And I should do so as certainly, bating
sickness or death, as that two and two make
four."

" Aweel, Mr Owen," resumed the citizen
of Glasgow, " I dinna misdoubt ye, and I'll
prove it, sir — I'll prove it. I am a carefu'
man, as is weel kenn'd, and industrious, as
the hale town can testily ; and I can win my
crowns, and keep my crowns, and count
my crowns, wi' ony body in the Saut-Mar-
kct, or it may be in the Gallovvgate. And
I'm a prudent man, as my father the dea-
con was before me ; but rather than an ho-
nest civil gentleman, that understands bu-
siness, and is willing to do justice to all
men; should lie by the heels this gate, un-
able to help himsell or any body eise — why,

ROB ROY. 201

conscience, man ! I'll be your bail mysell —
But ye'U mind it's a bail judicio sisti, as our
town -clerk says, not judicatum solvit ye'U
mind that, for there's muckle difference."

Mr Owen assured him, that as matters
then stood, he could not expect any one to
become security for the actual payment of
the debt, but that there was not the most
distant cause for apprehending loss from
his failing to present himself when lawfully
called upon.

* I believe ye — I believe ye. Eneugh
said — eneugh said. We'se ha'e your legs
loose by the morn at breakfast-time. And
now let's hear what thir chamber ch;els o*
yours hae to say for themselves, or how, in
the name of unrule, they got here at this
time o* night."

202 ROB ROY.

CHAPTER X.

Hame came our gudeman at eren,

And hame came he,
And there he saw a man

Where a man guldna be.
" How's this now, kimmer ?

How's this ? quo he, —

How came this carle here

Without the leave o' me t"

Old Son

The magistrate took the light out of his ser-
vant-maid's hand, and advanced to his scru-
tiny, like Diogenes in the street of Athens,
lantern-in-hand, and probably with as lit-
tle expectation as that of the cynic, that
he was likely to encounter any especial
treasure in the course of his researches.
The first whom he approached was my mys-
terious guide, who, seated on a table, as I
have already described him, with his eyes
firmly fixed on the wall, his features arran-
ged into the utmost inflexibility of expres-
sion, his hands folded on his breast with an

ROB ROY. 203

air betwixt carelessness and defiance, his
heel patting against the foot of the table, to
keep time with the tune which he conti-
nued to whistle, submitted to Mr Jarvie's
investigation with an air of absolute confi-
dence and assurance, which, for a moment,
placed at fault the memory and sagacity of
the acute and anxious investigator.

« Ah !— Eh !— Oh !" exclaimed the Bail-
lie. " Conscience ! it's impossible — and
yet — no ! — Conscience, it canna be ! — And
yet again — Deil hae me ! that I suld say
sae — Ye robber — ye cataran — ye born dee-
vil that ye are, to a* bad ends and nae glide
ane — can this be you?'*

" E'en as ye see, Baillie," was the laconic
answer.

" Conscience ! if I am na clean bumbai-
zed — you, ye cheat- the-wuddy rogue, you
here on your venture in the tolbootli o*
Glasgow ? — What d'ye think's the value o'
your head ?"

" Umph — why, fairly weighed, and
Dutch weight, it might weigh down one

204 ROB ROY.

provost's, four baillics', a town-clerk's, six
deacons', besides stent-masters"

" Ah, ye reiving villain !" said Mr Jarvie.
" But tell ower your sins, and prepare ye,
for if I say the word"

" True, Baillie," said he who was thus
addressed, folding his hands behind him
with the utmost non-chalance> " but ye will
never say that wrord."

" And why suld I not, sir ?" exclaimed
the magistrate — " Why suld I not ? Answer
me that — why suld I not ?"

" For three sufficient reasons, Baillie Jar-
vie — first, for auld langsyne ; — second, for
the sake of the auld wife ayont the fire at
Stuckavrallachan, that made some mixture
of our bluids, to my own proper shame be it
spoken, that has a cousin wi' accounts, and
yarn winnles, and looms, and shuttles, like a
mere mechanical person ; — and lastly, Bail-
lie, because if I saw a sign o' your betray-
ing me, I would plaister that wa' with your
harns ere the hand of man could rescue
you !"

ROB ROY. 205

u Ye're a bauld desperate villain, sir,5*
retorted the undaunted Baillie ; " and ye
ken that I ken ye to be sae, and that I wad-
na stand a moment for my ain risk."

" I ken weel," said the other, " ye hae
gentle bluid in your veins, and I wad be
laith to hurt my ain kinsman. But I'll
gang out here as free as I came in, or the
very v.a's o' Glasgow tolbooth shall tell o't
these ten years to come."

" Weel, weel," said Mr Jarvie, M bluid's
thicker than water; and it lies na in kith,
kin, and ally, to see mots in ilk other's een
if other een see them no. It wad be sair
news to the auld wife below the Ben of
Stuckavrallachan, that you, ye Hieland
limmer, had knockit out my harns, or that
I had kilted you up in a tow. But ye'll
own, ye dour deevil, that were it no your
very sell, I wad hae grip^it the best man in
the Hielands."

" Ye wad hae tried, cousin," answered
my guide, " that 1 wot weel ; but 1 doubt
ye wad hae come aff wi' the short measure,
for we gang- there-out Hieland bodies are

206 ROB ROY.

an unchancy generation when you speak to
us o' bondage. We down a bide the coer-
cion of gude braid-claith about our hinder-
lans ; let a be breeks o' freestone, and gar-
ters o' iron."

" Ye'll find the stane breeks and the aim
garters, ay, and the hemp cravat, for a' that,
neighbour," replied the Baillie. " Nae man
in a civilised country ever played the plis-
kies ye hae done — but e'en pickle in your
ain pock-neuck — I hae gi'en ye warning."

" Well, cousin," said the other, " ye'll
wear black at my burial ?"

" Deil a black cloak will be there, Ro-
bin, but the corbies and the hoodie craws,
I'se gi'e ye my hand on that. But whar's
the gude thousand pund Scots that I lent
ye, man, and when am I to see it again ?"

" Where it is," replied my guide, after
the affectation of considering for a mo-
ment,— " I cannot justly tell — probably
where last year's snaw is."

" And that's on the top of Schehallion,
ye dog," said Mr Jarvie ; " and I look for
payment frae you where ye stand."

ROB ROY. 207

" Ay," replied the Highlander, " but I
keep nather snaw nor dollars in my spor-
ran. And as to when you'll see it — why,
just when the king enjoys his ain again, as
the auld sang says."

" Warst of a', Robin," retorted the Glas-
wegian,— " I mean, ye disloyal traitor —
Warst of a' I — Wad ye bring Popery in on
us, and arbitrary power, and a foist and a
warming-pan, and the set forms, and the
curates, and the auld enormities o' surpli-
ces and cearments ? Ye had better stick to
your auld trade o' theft-boot, black-mail,
spreaghs, and gill-ravaging — better steal-
ing nowte than ruining nations.'

" Hout man, whisht wi' your whiggery,"
answered the Celt, " we hae kenn'd ane
anither mony a lang day. I'se take care
your counting-room is no cleaned out when
the Gillon-a-naillie come to redd up the
Glasgow buiths, and clear them o' their
auld shop-wares. And, unless it just fa'
in the preceese way o' your duty, ye man-
na see me oftener, Nicol, than I am dispo-
sed to be seen."

208 ROB ROY.

" You are a daring villain, Rob," answer-
ed the Baillie ; " and ye will be hanged,
that will be seen and heard tell o' ; but
I'se near be the ill bird, and foul my nest,
set apart strong necessity and the skreigh
of duty, which no man should hear and be
inobedient. — And wha the deevil's this ?" he
continued, turning to me — " Some gill-ra-
vager that ye hae listed, I dare say. He
looks as if he had a bauld heart to the high-
way, and a lang craig for the gibbet."

" This, good Mr Jarvie," said Mr Owen,
who, like myself, had been struck dumb
during this strange recognition, and no less
strange dialogue, which took place betwixt
these extraordina y kinsmen — " This, good
Mr Jarvie, is young Mr Frank Osbaldistone,
only ciiiid ot the head of our house, who
should have been taken into our firm at the
time Mr Rashleigh Osoaldistone, his cou-
sin, had the luck to be taken into it" —
(Here Owen could nor suppress a groan) —
" but, howsoever"

" O 1 have heard of that smaik," said
the Scotch merchant, interrupting him j

ROB ROY. 209

" it is he whom your principal, like an ob-
stinate auld fule, wad make a merchant o',
wad he or wad he no, and the lad turned a
strolling stage-player, in pure dislike to the
labour an honest man should live by. Weel,
sir, what say you to your handy wark ? —
Will Hamlet the Dane, or Hamlet's ghost,
be good security for Mr Owen, sir ?"

" I don't deserve your taunt," I replied,
" though I respect your motive, and am too
grateful for the assistance you have afforded
Mr Owen to resent it. My only business
here was to do what I could ( t is perhaps
very little) to aid Mr Owen in the manage-
ment of my father's aifjirs. My dislike of
the commercial profession is a feeling of
which I am the best and sole judge."

" I protest," said the Highlander, " I had
some respect for this callant before I kenn'd
what was in him ; but I honour hint for his
contempt of weavers and skinners, ami sic
like mechanical persons and their pursuits."
" Ye're mad, Rob," said tiie Bailiie — " mad
as a March hare, — though wherefore a hare

210 ROB ItOY.

suld be mad at March mair than at Martiu-
mas, is mair than I can weel say. Weavers !
Deil shake ye out o' the web the weaver craft
made. Spinners ! — ye'll spin and wind your-
sell a bonnie pirn. And this young birkie
here, that ye're hoying and hounding on the
shortest road to the gallows and the deevil,
will his stage-plays and his poetries help
him here, dy'e think, ony mair than your
deep oaths and drawn dirks, ye reprobate
that ye are ? — Will Tltyre tu patule, as
they ca* it, tell him where Rashleigh
Osbaldistone is? or Macbeth, and all his
kernes and galla-glasses, and your awn to
boot, Rob, procure him five thousand
pounds to answ7er the bills which fall due
ten days hence, were they a* rouped at the
Cross, basket-hilts, Andra-Ferraras, leather
targets, brogues, brochan, and sporrans ?"

" Ten days ?" I answered, and instinctive-
ly drew out Diana Vernon's packet ; and the
time being elapsed during which I was to
keep the seal sacred, I hastily broke it
open. A sealed lettei fell from a blank

ROB ROY. 211

enclosure, owing to the trepidation with
which I opened the parcel. A slight cur-
rent of wind, which found its way through
a broken pane of the window, wafted the
letter to Mr Jarvie's feet, who lifted it, ex-
amined the address with unceremonious cu-
riosity, and, to my astonishment, handed it
to his Highland kinsman, saying, " Here's
a wind has blown a letter to its right own-
er, though there were ten thousand chan-
ces against its coming to hand."

The Highlander, having examined the
address, broke the letter open without the
least ceremony. I endeavoured to inter-
rupt his proceeding.

" You must satisfy me, sir, that the let-
ter is intended for you before I can permit
you to peruse it."

" Make yourself easy, Mr Osbaldistone,"
replied the mountaineer, with great com-
posure ; — " remember Justice Inglewood,
Clerk Jobson, Mr Morris — above all, re-
member your vera humble servant, Robert

212 ROB ROY.

Cawmil, and the beautiful Diana Vernon.
Remember all this, and doubt no longer
that the letter is for me."

I remained astonished at my own stupi-
dity. Through the whole night, the voice,
and even the features of this man, though
imperfectly seen, haunted me with recol-
lections to which I could assign no exact
local or personal associations. But now
the light dawned on me at once — this
man was Campbell himself. His whole pe-
culiarities flashed on me at once, — the
deep strong voice, — the inflexible, stern,
yet considerate cast of features, — the Scot-
tish brogue, with its corresponding dialect
and imagery, which, although he possessed
the power at times of laying them a*ide,
recurred at every moment of emotion, and
gave pith to his sarcasm, or vehemence to
his expostulation. Rather beneath the
middle size than above it, his limbs were
formed upon the very strongest model that
is consistent with agility, while, from the

ROB ROY. 213

remarkable ease and freedom of his move-
ments, you could not doubt his possessing
the latter quality in a high degree of per-
fection. Two points in his person interfe-
red with the rules of symmetry — his shoul-
ders were so broad in proportion to his
height, as, notwithstanding the lean and
lathy appearance of his frame, gave him
something the air of being too square in
respect to his stature ; and his arms, though
round, sinewy, and strong, were so very
long as to be rather a deformity. I after-
wards heard that this length of arm was a
circumstance in which he prided himself;
that when he wore his native Highland
garb he could tie the garters of his hose
without stooping ; and that it gave him
great advantage in the use of the broad-
sword, at which he was very dexterous.
But certainly this want of symmetry de-
stroyed the claim he might otherwise have
set up to be accounted a very handsome
man ; it gave something wild, irregular,
and, as it were, unearthly to his appear-

10

214 ROB ROY,

ance, and reminded me involuntarily of the
tales which Mabel used to tell of the old
Picts who ravaged Northumberland in an-
cient times, who, according to her tradi-
tions, were a sort of half goblin half hu-
man beings, distinguished, like this man,
for courage, cunning, ferocity, the length
of their arms, and the squareness of their
shoulders.

When, however, I recollected the cir-
cumstances in which we formerly met, I
could not doubt that the billet was most
probably designed for him. He had made
a marked figure among those mysterious
personages over whom Diana seemed to
exercise an influence, and from whom she
experienced an influence in her turn. It
was painful to think that the fate of a be-
ing so amiable was involved in that of des-
peradoes of this man's description ; yet it
seemed impossible to doubt it. Of what
use, however, could this person be to my
father's affairs ? — I could think only of one.
Rashleigh Osbaldistone had, at the instiga-

ROB ROY. 215

tion of Miss Vernon, certainly found means
to produce Mr Campbell when his presence
was necessary to exculpate me from Morris's
accusation — Was it not possible that her
influence, in like manner, might prevail on
Campbell to produce Rashleigh ? Speak-
ing on this supposition, I requested to know
where my dangerous kinsman was, and
when Mr Campbell had seen him. The an
swer was indirect.

N It's a kittle cast she has gien me to play ;
but yet it's fair play, and I vvinna baulk her.
Mr Osbaldistone, I dwell not very far from
hence — my kinsman can show you the way
— leave Mr Owen to do the best he can in
Glasgow — do you come and see me in the
glens, and it's like I may pleasure you, and
stead your father in his extremity. I am
but a poor man ; but wit's better than
wealth — and, cousin," (turning from me to
address Mr Jarvie) " if ye daur venture sae
muckle as to eat a dish of Scotch collops,
and a leg o' red deer venison wi' me, come
ye wr this young Sassenach gentleman as

216 ROB ROY.

far as Drymen or Bucklivie, or the Cla-
chan of Aberfbil will be better than ony
o' them, and I'll hae somebody waiting to
weise ye the gate to the place where I
may be for the time — What say ye, man ?
— There's my thumb, I'll ne'er beguile ye."

" Na, na, Robin," said the cautious
burgher, *« 1 seldom like to leave the Gor-
bals ; I have nae freedom to gang amang
your wild hills, Robin, and your kilted red
shanks — it doesna become my place, man."

<c The devil damn your place and you
baith !" reiterated Campbell. " The only
drap o' gentle bluid that's in your body was
our great-grand uncle's that was justified at
Dunbarton, and you set yoursell up to say
ye wad derogate frae your place to visit
me ! — Heaik thee, man, I owe thee a day in
burst — I'll pay up your thousan pund Scots,
plack and bawbee, gin ye'll be an honest
fallow for anes, and just daiker up the gate
wi' this Sassenach."

" Huut awa' wi' your gentility," replied
the baillie j " carry your gentle bluid to

ROB ROY. 217

the Cross, and see what ye'll buy wi't. — But,
if I were to come, wad ye really and sooth-
fastly pay me the siller ?"

" I swear to ye," said the Highlander,
" upon the halidome of him that sleeps be-
neath the gray stane at Inch-Cailleach."

" Say nae mair, Robin— say nae mair
— We'll see what may be dune. — But ye
raaunna expect me to gang ower the High-
land line — I'll gae beyond the line at no
rate. Ye maun meet me about Bucklivie
or the Clachan of Aberfoil, and dinna for-
get the needful."

" Nae fear — nae fear," said Campbell,
" I'll be as true as the steel blade that never
failed its master, — But I must be budging,
cousin, for the air o' Glasgow tolbooth is no
that ower salutary to a Highlander's consti-
tution."

" Troth," replied the merchant, " and
if my duty were to be dune, ye couldna
change your atmosphere, as the minister
ca's it, this ae wee while. — Ochon, that I
suld ever be concerned in aiding and abet-

vol. rr. k

21S

KOB ROY,

ting an escape frae justice ! it will be a
shame and disgrace to me and mine, and
my very father's memory, for ever."

" Hout tout, man, let that flee stick in
the \va'," answered his kinsman ; " when the
dirt's dry it will rub out — Your father, ho-
nest man, could look ower a friend's faults
as weel as anither."

" Ye may be right, Robin," replied the
Baillie, after a moment's reflection ; K he
was a considerate man the deacon ; he
kenn'd we had a' our frailties, and he lo'ed
his friends — Ye'll no hae forgotten him,
Robin ?" This question he put in a soften-
ed tone, conveying as much at least of the
ludicrous as the pathetic.

" Forgotten him !" — replied his kinsman,
" what suld ail me to forget him ? — a wap-
ping weaver he was, and wrought my first
pair o' hose. — But come a\va'} kinsman,

" Come fill up my cap, come fill up my cann,
Come saddle my horses, and call up my man ;
Come open jour gates, and let me gae free,
I daurna stay langer in bonny Dundee."

" Whisht, sir 1** said the magistrate, in

ROB ROY. 21§

an authoritative tone — " lilting and singing
sae near the latter end o' the Sabbath ? This
house may hear ye sing anither tune yet
— Avveel, we hae a' backslidings to answer
for — Stanchells, open the door."

The jailor obeyed, and we all sallied
forth. Stanchells looked with some sur-
prise at the two strangers, wondering,
doubtless, how they came into these pre-
mises without his knowledge ; but Mr
Jarvie's " Friends of mine, Stanchells —
friends of mine," silenced all disposition to
enquiries. We now descended into the
lower vestibule, and hollowed more than
once for Dougal,. to which summons no
answer was returned, when Campbell ob-
served, with a Sardonic smile, " That if
Dougal was the lad he kent him, he would
scarce wait to get thanks for his ain share
of the night's wark, but was in all probabi-
lity on the full trot to the pass of Balla-
maha."

" And left us — and, abune a', me my-
sell, locked up in the tolbooth a5 night !"
exclaimed the deacon in ire and perturba-

220 ROB ROY.

tion. " Ca' for fore-hammers, sledge-ham-
mers, pinches, and coulters ; send for Dea-
con Yettlin, the smith, and let him ken
that Baillie Jarvie's shut up in the tolbooth
by a Hieland blackguard, whom he'll hang
as high as Haman"

" When ye catch him," said Campbell
gravely ; " but stay, the door is surely not
locked."

Indeed, on examination, we found that
the door was not only left open, but that
Dougal in his retreat had, by carrying off
the keys along with him, taken care that
no one should exercise his office of porter
in a hurry.

" He has glimmerings o' common sense
now, that creature Dougal," said Camp-
bell ; " he kenn'd an open door might hae
served me at a pinch."

We were by this time in the street.

" I tell you, Robin," said the magistrate,
" in my puir mind, if ye live the life ye do,
ye shuld hae ane o' your gillies door-keep-
er in every jail in Scotland, in case o' the
warst."

ROB ROY. 221

" Ane o' my kinsmen a baillie in ilka
burgh will just do as weel, cousin Nicol —
so, gude- night or gude-morning to ye ; and
forget not the Clachan of Aberfoil."

And without waiting for an answer, he
sprung to the other side of the street, and
was lost in darkness. Immediately on his
disappearance, we heard him give a low
whistle of peculiar modulation j which was
instantly replied to.

" Hear to the Hieland deevils,7' said
Mr Jarvie ; " they think themsels on the
skirts of Benlomond already, where they
may gang whewing and whistling about
without minding Sunday or Saturday." Here
he was interrupted by something which fell
with a heavy clash on the street before us —
" Gude guide us ! what's this mair o't ? —
Mat tie, baud up the lantern — Conscience !
if it isna the keys — Weel, that's just as weel
— they cost the burgh siller, and there
might hae been some clavers about the loss
o* them — O, an Baillie Grahame were to
get word o' this night's job, it wad be a
sair hair in my neck !"

222 ROB ROY.

As we were still but a few steps from
the tolbooth door, we carried back these
implements of office, and consigned them
to the head jailor, who, in lien of the usual
mode of making good his post by turning
the keys, was keeping sentry in the vesti-
bule till the arrival of some assistant, whom
he had summoned to replace the Celtic
fugitive Don gal.

Having discharged this piece of duty to
the burgh, and my road lying the same
way with the honest magistrate, I pro-
fitted by the light of his lantern, and he
by my arm, to find our way through the
streets, which, whatever they may now
be, were then dark, uneven, and ill-pa-
ved. Age is easily propitiated by attentions
from the young. The Baillie expressed
himself interested in me, and added, " That
since I was nane o* that play-acting and
play-ganging generation, whom his saul
hated, he wad be glad if I wad eat a reist-
ed haddock, or a fresh herring, at break-
fast wi' him the morn, and meet my friend,

ROB ROY. 223

Mr Owen, whom, by that time, he would
place at liberty."

" My dear sir," said I, when I had ac-
cepted of the invitation with thanks, u how
could you possibly connect me with the
stage r

" I wat na,v replied Mr Jar vie ; " it was
a blethering phrasing chield they ca' Fair-
service, that came at e'en to get an order
to send the crier through the toun for ye at
skreigh o' day the morn. He tell't me whae
ye were, and how ye were sent frae your
father's house, because ye wadna be a deal-
er, and that \e mightna disgrace your fii-
mily wi' ganging on the stage. Ane Ham-
morgaw, our precentor, brought him here,
and said he was an auld acquaintance ;
but I sent them baith awa' wi' a flea in
their lug for bringing me sic an errand on
sic a night. But I see he's a fule-cieature
a' thegither, and clean mista'en about ye.
I like ye, man," he continued ; " 1 like a
lad that will staud by his friends in trouble
— I aye did it mysel, and sae did the dea-
con, my father, rest and bless him. But

224} ROB ROY.

ye suldna keep ower muckle company wi'
Hielandmen and thae wild cattle. Can a
man touch pitch and no be defiled ? — aye
mind that. Nae doubt, the best and wisest
may err — Once, twice, and thrice, have I
backslidden, man, and dune three things
this night — my father wadna hae believed
his e'en if he could hae looked up and seen
me do them."

He was by this time arrived at the door
of his own dwelling. He paused, however,
on the threshold, and went on in a solemn
tone of deep contrition, — " Firstly, I hae
thought my ain thoughts on the Sabbath
— Secondly, I hae gi'en security for an
Englishman — and, in the third and last
place, well-a-day ! I hae let an ill-doer es-
cape from the place of imprisonment — But
there's balm in Gilead, Mr Osbaldistone
=— Mattie, I can let mysel in — see Mr Os-
baldistone to Luckie Flyter's, at the cor-
ner o' the wynd. — Mr Osbaldistone" — in a
whisper — " ye'll offer nae incivility to Mat-
tie — she's an honest man's daughter, and a
near cousin o' the Laird o' Limmerfield's."

ROB ROY. 225

CHAPTER XL

" Will it please your worship to accept of my poor service ?
I beseech that I may feed upon your bread, though it be
the brownest, and drink of your drink, though it be of the
smallest ; for I will do your worship as much service for
forty shillings as another man shall for three pounds."

Greene's Tu Quoquc*

I remembered the honest Baillie's part-
ing charge, but did not conceive there was
any incivility in adding a kiss to the half-
crown with which 1 remunerated Mattie's
attendance ; nor did her " Fie for shame,
sir," express any very deadly resentment of
the affront. Repeated knocking at Mrs Fly-
ter's gate awakened in due order, first, one
or two stray dogs, who began to bark with
all their might ; next, two or three night-
capped heads, which were thrust out of the
neighbouring windows to reprehend me
for disturbing the solemnity of the Sunday
k %

226 ROB ROY.

night by that untimely noise. While 1
trembled lest the thunders of their wrath
might dissolve in showers, like that of Xan-
tippe, MrsFlyter herself awoke, and began,
in a tone of objurgation not unbecoming
the philosophical spouse of Socrates, to scold
one or two loiterers in her kitchen, for not
hastening to the door to prevent a repeti-
tion of my noisy summons.

These worthies were, indeed, nearly con-
cerned in the fracas which their laziness oc-
casioned, being no other than the faithful
Mr Fairservice, with his friend Mr Ham-
morgaw, and another person, whom I after-
wards found to be the town-crier, who were
sitting over a cog of ale, as they called it,
(at my expence, as my bill afterwards in-
formed me,) in order to devise the terms
and style of a proclamation to be made
through the streets the next day, in order
that " the unfortunate young gentleman,"
as they had the impudence to qualify me,
might be restored to his friends without
farther delay. It may be supposed that I

ROB ROY. 227

did not suppress my displeasure at this im-
pertinent interference with my affairs ; but
Andrew set up such ejaculations of transport
at my arrival, as fairly drowned my expres-
sions of resentment. His raptures, per-
chance, were partly political ; and the
tears of joy which he shed had certainly
their source in that noble fountain of emo-
tion, the tankard. However, the tumultu-
ous glee which he felt, or pretended to feel
at my return, saved Andrew the broken
head which I had twice destined him ;
first, on account of the colloquy he had
held with the precentor on my affairs ;
and, secondly, for the impertinent history
he had thought proper to give of me to Mr
Jarvie. I however contented myself with
slapping the door of my bed-room in his
face as he followed me, praising Heaven
for my safe return, and mixing his joy with
admonitions to me to take care how I walk-
ed by myself in future. I then went to bed,
resolving my first business in the morning

228 ROB UOY.

should be to discharge this troublesome, pe-
dantic, self-conceited coxcomb, who seem-
ed so much disposed to constitute himself
rather a preceptor than a domestic.

Accordingly in the morning I resumed
my purpose, and calling Andrew into my
apartment, requested to know his charge
for guiding and attending me as far as
Glasgow. Mr Fairservice looked very
blank at this demand, justly considering it
as a presage to approaching dismission.

" Your honour," he said, after some he-
sitation, " winna think — winna think"

" Speak out, you rascal, or I'll break
your head," said I, as Andrew, between
the double risk of losing all by asking too
much, or a part, by stating his demand
lower than what I might be willing to pay,
stood gasping in the agony of doubt and
calculation.

Out it came with a bolt, however, at my
threat, as the kind violence of a blow on
the back sometimes delivers the windpipe
from an intrusive morsel. " Aughteen

ROB ROY. 229

pennies per diem— that is by the day —
your honour wadna think unconscionable.1'

" It is double what is usual, and treble
what you merit, Andrew ; but there's a
guinea for you, and get about your busi-
ness."

" The Lord forgi'e us ! Ts your honour
mad ?" exclaimed Andrew.

" No ; but I think you mean to make
me so — I give you a third above your de-
mand, and you stand staring and expostu-
lating there as if I were cheating you. —
Take your money, and go about your busi-
ness."

" Gude safe us !" continued Andrew,
" in what can I hae offended your ho-
nour ? — Certainly a' flesh is but as flowers
of the field ; but if a bed of camomile hath
value in medicine, of a surety the use of
Andrew Fairservice to your honour is no-
thing less evident — it's as muckle as your
life's worth to part wi' me."

" Upon my honour," replied I, " it is
difficult to say whether you are more knave

\

230 HOB ROY.

or fool. — So you intend then to remain with
me whether I iike it or no ?"

" Troth, I was e'en thinking sae," repli-
ed Andrew, dogmatically ; " for if your
honour doesna ken when ye hae a gude
servant, I ken when I hae a gude muster,
and doit be in my feet gin I leave ye — and
there's the brief and the lang o't,— besides
I hae received nae regular warning to quit
my place."

" Your place, sir !" said I ; " why, you
are no hired servant of mine ; you are
merely a guide, whose knowledge of the
country I availed myself of on my road."

" I am no just a common servant, I ad-
mit, sir," remonstrated Mr Fairservice ;
" but your honour kens I quitted a gude
place at an hours notice, to comply wi'
your honour's solicitations. A man might
make honestly, and wi' a clear conscience,
twenty sterling pounds per annum, weel
counted siller, o* the garden at Osbaldis-
tone-Hail, and I wasna likely to gi'c up a'
that for a guinea, I trow — I reckoned on

ROB ROY. 231

staying \vi' your honour to the term's end
at the least o't ; and I account upon my
wage, board- wage, fee, and bountith, aye
to that length o't at the least."

u Come, come, sir," replied I, " these
impudent pretensions won't serve your
turn ; and if I hear any more of them, I
shall convince you, that Squire Thorncliffe
is not the only one of my name that can
use his fingers."

While I spoke thus, the whole matter
struck me as so ridiculous, that, though
really angry, I had some difficulty to for-
bear laughing at the gravity with which
7 Andrew supported a plea so utterly extra-
vagant. The rascal, aware of the impres-
sion he had made on my muscles, was en-
couraged to perseverance. He judged it
safer, however, to take his pretensions a
peg lower, in case of overstraining at the
same time both his plea and my patience.

" Admitting that my honour could part
with a faithful servant, that had served me

ROB ROT.

and mine by day and night for twenty
years, in a strange place, and at a moment's
warning, he was weel assured," he said, " it
wasna in my heart, nor in no true gentle-
man's, to pit a puir lad like himsell, that
had come forty or fifty, or say a hundred
miles out o' his road purely to bear my
honour company, and that had nae haud-
ing but his penny-fee, to sic a hardship as
this comes to."

I think it was you, Will, who once told me,
that, to be an obstinate man, I am in cer-
tain things the most gullable and malleable
of mortals. The fact is, that it is only contra-
diction which makes me peremptory, and
when I do not feel myself called on to give
battle to any proposition, I am always willing
to grant it, rather than give myself much
trouble. I knew this fellow to be a greedy,
tiresome coxcomb ; still, however, I must
have some one about me in the quality of
guide and domestic, and I was so much used
to Andrew's humour, that on some occasions

ROB ROY. 233

it was rather amusing. In the state of in-
decision to which these reflections led me,
I asked Fairservice if he knew the roads,
towns, &c. in the north of Scotland, to
which my father's concerns with the pro-
prietors of Highland forests were likely to
lead me. I believe if I had asked him the
road to the terrestrial paradise, he would
have at that moment undertaken to guide
me to it, so that I had reason afterwards to
think myself fortunate in rinding that his
actual knowledge did not fall very much
short of that which he asserted himself to
possess. I fixed the amount of his wages,
and reserved to myself the privilege of dis-
missing him when I chose, upon paying
him a week in advance. I gave him finally
a severe lecture upon his conduct of the
preceding day, and then dismissed him, re-
joicing at heart, though somewhat crest-
fallen in countenance, to rehearse to his
friend the precentor, who was taking his
morning draught in the kitchen, the mode

234 ROB ROY.

in which he had " cuitled up the daft young
English squire."

Agreeable to appointment, I went next
to BaiHie Nicol Jarvie*s, where a comfort-
able morning's repast was arranged in the
parlour, which served as an apartment of all
hours, and almost all works, to that honest
gentleman. The bustling and benevolent
magistrate had been as good as his word.
I found my friend Owen at liberty, and,
conscious of the refreshments, and puri-
fication of brush and bason, was of course
a very different person from Owen a pri-
soner, squalid, heart-broken, and hope-
less. Yet the sense of pecuniary difficiil*
ties arising behind, before, and around
him, had depressed his spirit, and the al-
most paternal embrace which the good
man gave me, was embittered by a sigh of
the deepest anxiety. And when he sate
down, the heaviness in his eye and manner,
so different from the quiet composed satis-
faction which they usuaily exhibited, indi-
cated, that he was employing his arith-

ROB ROY. 235

metic in mentally numbering up the clays,
the hours, the minutes which yet remain-
ed as an interval between the dishonour
of bilis and the downfal of the great com-
mercial establishment of Osbaldistone and
Tresham. It was left to me, therefore,
to do honour to our landlord's hospitable
cheer, — to his tea, right from China, which
lie got in a present from some eminent
ship's-husband at Wapping, — to his coffee,
from a snug plantation of his own, as he
informed us with a wink, called Salt-market
Grove, in the island of Jamaica, — to his
English toa*t and ale, his Scotch dried sal-
mon, his Lochfine Herriifgs, and even to the
double damask tablecloth, " wrought by
no hand, as you may guess," save that of
his deceased father, the worthy Deacon
Jarvie. Having conciliated our good-hu-
moured host by those little attentions which
are great to most men, I endeavoured in
my turn to gain from him some informa-
tion which might be useful for my guidance,
as well as for the satisfaction of my curio-

236 HOB ROY.

sity. We had not hitherto made the least
allusion to the transactions of the prece-
ding night, a circumstance which made my
question sound somewhat abrupt, when,
without any previous introduction of the
subject, I took advantage of a pause when
the history of the tablecloth ended, and
that of the napkins was about to com-
mence, to enquire, " Pray, by the bye, Mr
Jarvie, who may this Mr Robert Campbell
be whom we met with last night ?"

The interrogatory seemed to strike the
honest magistrate, to use the vulgar phrase,
" all of a heap," and instead of answering,
he repeated the question, — <c Whae's Mr
Robert Campbell ? — ahem — ahay ! — Whae's
Mr Robert Campbell, quo' he ?"

" Yes," said I, " I mean who, and what
is he ?"

" Why, he's — ahay ! — he's — ahem !—
Where did ye meet with Mr Robert Camp-
bell, as ye ca' him ?"

" I met him by chance," I replied, " some
months ago, in the north of England."

ROB ROY. 237

" Ou then, Mr Osbaldistone," said the
Baillie doggedly, " ye'll ken as muckle
about him as I do."

" I should suppose not, Mr Jarvie," I
replied ; " you are his relation it seems,
and his friend."

" There is some cousin-red between us,
doubtless," said the Baillie reluctantly, c« but
we hae seen little o' ilk other since Rob
gae up the cattle-line o' dealing, poor fal-
low ; he was hardly guided by them might
hae used him better — and they haena made
their plack a bawbee o't neither. There's
inony ane this day wad rather they had
never chased puir Robin frae the Cross o'
Glasgow — there's mony ane wad rather see
him again at the tail o' three hundred ky-
loes, than at the head o' thirty waur cattle."

" All this explains nothing to me, Mr
Jarvie, of Mr Campbell's rank, habits of
life, and means of subsistence," I replied.

" Rank ?" said Mr Jarvie ; " he's a Hie-
land gentleman, nae doubt — better rank
,need nane to be; — and for habit, I judge

9

238 ROB ROY.

be wears the Hieland habit amang the
hills, though he has breeks on when he
comes to Glasgow ; — and as for his subsist-
ence, what needs we care about his subsist-
ence, sae lang as he asks naething frae huz,
ye ken. But I hae nae time for clavering
about him e'en now, because we maun
look into your fathers concerns wi' a'
speed."

So saying, he put on his spectacles, and
sate down to examine Mr Owen's states,
which the other thought it most prudent
to communicate to him without reserve.
I knew enough of business to be aware
that nothing could be more acute and sa-
gacious than the views which Jarvie enter-
tained of the matters submitted to his exa-
mination ; and, to do him justice, it was
marked by much fairness and even libera-
lity. He scratched his ear indeed repeat-
edly, on observing the balance which stood
at the debit of Osbaldistone and Tresham
in account with himself personally.

" It may be a dead loss," he observed ;

ROB ROY. 239

" and conscience ! whate'er ane o' your
Lombard-street goldsmiths may say to it,
it's a snell ane in the Sautmarket o' Glasgow.
It will be a heavy deficit — a staff out o' my
bicker, I trow. But what then ? — I trust
the house winna coup the crans for a' that's
com'd and gape yet ; and if it does, I'll
never bear sae base a mind as thae corbies
in the Gallowgate — an' I am to lose by
ye, I'se ne'er deny I hae won by ye mony
a fair pund sterling — Sae, an' it come to
the warst, I'se e'en lav the head o' the sow
to the tail o' the grice."

I did not altogether understand the pro-
verbial arrangement with which Mr Jarvie
consoled himself, but I could easily see
that he took a kind and friendly interest
in the arrangement of my father's affairs,
suggested several expedients, approved se-
veral arrangements proposed by Owen, and,
by his countenance and counsel, greatly
abated the gloom upon the brow of that
afflicted delegate of mv father's establish-
ment.

240 ROB ROY.

As I was an idle spectator on this occa-
sion, and, perhaps, as I showed some incli-
nation more than once to return to the pro-
hibited, and, apparently, the puzzling sub-
ject of Mr Campbell, Mr Jarvie dismissed
me with little formality, with an advice to
" gang up the gate to the College, where
I wad find some chields should speak
Greek and Latin weel, at least they got
plenty o' siller for doing de'il hae't else, if
they didna do that, and where I might
read a speli o' the wordy Mr Zachary
Boyd's translation o' the Scriptures — bet-
ter poetry need nane to be, as he had been
tell'd by them that kenn'd, or suld hae
kenn'd, about sic things." But he season-
ed this dismission with a kind and hospita-
ble invitation, w to come back and take
part o' his family-chack, at ane preceesely
— there wad be a leg o' mutton, and, it
might be, a tup's head, for they were in
season ;" but, above all, I was to return at
" ane o'clock preceesely — it was the hour

ROB ROY, 241

he and the deacon his father aye dined at
— they pat it aff for naething nor for nae-
body."

vol. ir.

24)2 ROB ROY.

CHAPTER XII.

So stands the Thracian herdsman with his spear
Full in the gap, and hopes the hunted bear ;
And hears him in the rustling wood, and sees
His course at distance by the bending trees,
And thinks — Here comes my mortal enemy,
And either he must fall in fight or I.

Palamon and Arcite.

I took the route towards the College,
as recommended by Mr Jarvie, less with
the intention of seeking for any object of
interest or amusement, than to arrange my
own ideas and meditate on my future con-
duct. I wandered from one quadrangle of
old-fashioned buildings to another, and
from thence to the College-yards, or walk-
ing-ground, where, pleased with the soli-
tude of the place, most of the students be-
ing engaged in their classes, I took several
turns, pondering on the waywardness of
my own destiny.

1 could not doubt, from the circum-

ROB ROY. 243

stances attending my first meeting with
this person Campbell, that he was engaged
in some strangely desperate courses, and
the reluctance with which Mr Jarvie al-
luded to his person or pursuits, as well as
all the scene of the preceding night, tend-
ed to confirm these suspicions. Yet to this
man Diana Vernon had not, it would seem,
hesitated to address herself in my behalf;
and the conduct of the magistrate himself
towards him shewed an odd mixture of
kindness and even respect with pity and
censure. Something there must be un-
common in Campbell's situation and cha-
racter ; and what was still more extraor-
dinary, it seemed that his fate was doomed
to have influence over, and connection
with, my own. I resolved to bring Mr
Jarvie to close quarters on the first proper
opportunity, and learn as much as was pos-
sible on the subject of this mysterious per-
son, in order that I might judge whether
it was possible for me, without prejudice to
my reputation, to hold that degree of far^

244 ROB ROY.

ther correspondence with him to which lie
seemed to invite.

While I was musing on these subjects,
my attention was attracted by three per-
sons who appeared at the upper end of the
walk through which I was sauntering, seem-
ingly engaged in very earnest conversation.
That intuitive impression which announces
to us the approach of whomsoever we love
or hate with intense vehemence, long be-
fore a more indifferent eye can recognise
their persons, flashed upon my mind the
sure conviction that the midmost of these
three men was llashleigh Osbaldistone. To
address him was my first impulse ; my se-
cond was, to watch him until he was alone,
or at least to reconnoitre his companions
before confronting him. The party was still
at such distance, and engaged in such deep
discourse, that I had time to step unobser-
ved to the other side of a small hedge,
which imperfectly screened the alley in
which I was walking.
.It was at this period the fashion of the

ROB ROY. 245

young and gay to wear, in their morning
walks, a scarlet cloak, often laced and em-
broidered, above their other dress, and it
was the trick of the time for gallants occa-
sionally to dispose it so as to muffle a part
of the face. The imitating this fashion,
with the degree of shelter which I received
from the hedge, enabled me to meet my
cousin, unobserved by him or the others,
except perhaps as a passing stranger. I
was not a little startled at recognising in
his companions that very Morris on whose
account I had been summoned before Jus-
tice Ingle wood, and Mr MacVittie the mer-
chant, at whose starched and severe aspect
I had recoiled on the preceding day.

A more ominous conjunction to my own
affairs, and those of my father, could scarce
have been formed. I remembered Mor-
ris's false accusation against me, which he
might be as easily induced to renew as he
had been intimidated to withdraw it ; I re-
collected the inauspicious influence of Mac-
Vittie over my fathers affairs, testified by

246 ROB ROY.

the imprisonment of Owen ; and I now
saw both these men combined with one,
whose talents for mischief I deemed little
inferior to those of the great author of all
ill, and my abhorrence of whom almost
amounted to dread.

When they had passed me for some
paces, I turned and followed them unob-
served. At the end of the walk they sepa-
rated, Morris and MacVittie leaving the
gardens, and Rashleigh returning alone
through the walks. I was now determi-
ned to confront him, and demand repara-
tion for the injuries he had done my father,
though in what form redress was likely to
be rendered remained to be known. This,
however, I trusted to chance ; and, fling-
ing back the cloak in which I was muffled,
I passed through a gap of the low hedge,
and presented myself before Rashleigh,
as, in a deep reverie, he paced down the
avenue.

Rashleigh was no man to be surprised
or thrown off his guard by sudden occur-

rob ROY. 24)7

rences. Yet he did not find me thus close
to him, wearing undoubtedly in my face
the marks of that indignation which was
glowing in my bosom, without visibly start-
ing at an apparition so sudden and so me-
nacing.

" You are well met, sir," was my com-
mencement ; " I was about to take a long
and doubtful journey in quest of you."

" You know little of him you sought,
then," replied Rashleigh, with his wonted
undaunted composure. " I am easily found
by my friends — still more easily by my
foes ; — your manner compels me to ask in
which class I must rank Mr Francis Os-
baldistone ?"

" In that of your foes, sir," I answered ;
" in that of your mortal foes, unless you in-
stantly do justice to your benefactor, my
father, by accounting for his property."

" And to whom, Mr Osbaldistone," an-
swered Rashleigh, " am J, a member of
your father's commercial establishment, to
be compelled to give any account of my

248 ROB ROY.

proceedings in those concerns, which are
in every respect identified with my own ?
— Surely not to a young gentleman whose
exquisite taste for literature would render
such discussions disgusting and unintelligi-
ble."

" Your sneer, sir, is no answer ; I will
not part with you until I have full satisfac-
tion concerning the fraud you meditate—
you shall go with me before a magistrate."

" Be it so," said Rashleigh, and made a
step or two as if to accompany me ; then
pausing, proceeded : — " Were I inclined to
do as you would have me, you should soon
feel which of us had most reason to dread
the presence of a magistrate. But I have
no wish to accelerate your fate. Go, young
man ! amuse yourself in your world of po-
etical imaginations, and leave the business
of life to those who understand and can
conduct it."

His intention, I believe, was to provoke
me, and he succeeded. " Mr Osbaldis-
tone," I said, M this tone of calm insolence

3

ROB ROY. 249

shall not avail you. You ought to be aware
that the name we both bear never submit-
ted to insult, and shall not in my person
be exposed to it."

" You remind me," said Rashleigb, with
one of his blackest looks, " that it was dis-
honoured in my person ! — and you remind
me also by whom ! Do you think I have for-
gotten the evening at Osbaldistone Hall,
when you cheaply and with impunity play-
ed the bully at my expence ? For that insult
— never to be washed out but by blood —
for the various times you have crossed my
path, and always to my prejudice — for the
persevering folly with which you seek to
traverse schemes, the importance of which
you neither know nor are capable of esti-
mating,— for all these, sir, you owe me a
long account, for which there shall come
an early day of reckoning."

" Let it come when it will," I replied, u I
shall be willing and ready to meet it. Yet
you seem to have forgotten the heaviest ar-
ticle— that I had the pleasure to aid Miss

L 2

250 ROB ROY.

Vernon's good sense and virtuous feeling in
extricating her from your infamous toils."

I think his dark eyes flashed actual fire
at this home- taunt, and yet his voice re-
tained the same calm expressive tone with
which he had hitherto conducted the con-
versation.

" I had other views with respect to you,
young man," was his answer ; " less ha-
zardous for you, and more suitable to my
present character and former education.
But I see you will draw on yourself the
personal chastisement your boyish insolence
so well merits. Follow me to a more re-
mote spot, where we are less likely to be
interrupted "

I followed him accordingly, keeping a
strict eye on his motions, for I believed
him capable of the very worst actions. We
reached an open spot in a sort of wilder-
ness, laid out in the Dutch taste, with
clipped hedges, and one or two statues. I
was on my guard, and it was well with me
that I was soj for Kashleigh's sword was
4

KOB ROY. 251

out and at my breast ere I could throw
down my cloak, or get my weapon un-
sheathed, so that I only saved my life by
springing a pace or two backwards. He
had some advantage in the difference of
our weapons ; for his sword, as I recollect,
was longer than mine, and had one of those
bayonet or three-cornered blades which are
now generally worn ; whereas, mine was
what we then called a Saxon blade — nar-
row, flat, and two-edged, and scarcely so
manageable as that of my enemy. In other
respects we were pretty equally matched ;
for what advantage I might possess in su-
perior address and agility, was fully coun-
ter-balanced by Raslileigh's great strength
and coolness. He fought, indeed, more
like a fiend than a man — with concentrated
spite and desire of blood, only allayed by
that cool consideration which made his
want actions appear yet worse from the
air of deliberate premeditation which seem-
ed to accompany them. His obvious ma-
lignity of purpose never for a moment

252 ROB ROY.

threw him off his guard, and he exhausted
every feint and stratagem proper to the sci-
ence of defence ; while, at the same time,
he meditated the most desperate catas-
trophe to our rencounter.

On my part, the combat was at first sus-
tained with more moderation. My pas-
sions, though hasty, were not malevolent ;
and the walk of two or three minutes space
gave me time to reflect that Rashleigh was
my father's nephew, the son of an uncle,
who after his fashion had been kind to me,
and that his falling by my hand could not
but occasion much family distress. My
first resolution, therefore, was to attempt
to disarm my antagonist, a manoeuvre in
which, confiding in my supposed superi-
ority of skill and practice, I anticipated
little difficulty. I found, however, I had
met my match ; and one or two foils which
I received, and from the consequences of
which I narrowly escaped, obliged me to
observe more caution in my mode of fight-
ing. By degrees I became exasperated at

ROB ROY. 253

the rancour with which Rashleigh sought
my life, and returned his passes with an
inveteracy resembling in some degree his
own ; so that the combat had all the appear-
ance of being destined to have a tragic
issue. That issue had nearly taken place
at my expence. My foot slipped in a full
lounge which I made at my adversary,
and I could not so far recover myself as
completely to parry the thrust with w7hich
my pass was repaid. Yet it took but par-
tial effect, running through my waistcoat,
grazing my ribs, and passing through my
coat behind. The hilt of Rashleigh's sword,
so great was the vigour of his thrust, struck
against my breast with such force as to
give me great pain, and confirm me in
the momentary belief that I was mortally
wounded. Eager for revenge, I grappled
with my enemy, seizing with my left hand
the hilt of his sword, and shortening my
own with the purpose of running him
through the body. Our death-grapple was

254 ROB ROY.

interrupted by a man who forcibly threw
himself between us, and pushing us sepa-
rate from each other, exclaimed, in a loud
and commanding voice, " What ! the sons
of those who sucked the same breast shed-
ding each others bluid as it were stran-
gers' ! — By the hand of my father, 1 will
cleave to the brisket the first man that
mints another stroke,"

I looked up in astonishment. The speak-
er was no other than Campbell. He had a
basket hiked broadsword drawn in his hand,
which he made to whistle around his head
as he spoke, as if for the purpose of en-
forcing his mediation. Rashleigh and I
stared in silence at this unexpected intru-
der, who proceeded to exhort us alternate-
ly : " Do you, Maister Francis, opine that
ye will re-establish your father's credit by
cutting your kinsman's thrapple, or getting
your ain sneckit instead thereof in the Col-
lege-} ards of Glasgow ? — Or do ye, Maister
Rashkigh, think men will trust their lives
and fortunes wi' ane, that, when in point of

ROB ROY. 255

trust and in point of confidence wi' a great
political interest, gangs about brawling like
a drunken gillie ? — Nay, never look gash or
grim at me, man — if ye're angry, ye ken
how to turn the buckle o' your belt behind
you."

" You presume on my present situation,'*
replied Rashleigh, " or you would hardly
have dared to interfere where my honour
is concerned."

" Hout, tout, tout ! — Presume ? — And
what for should it be presuming ? — Ye may
be the richer man, Mr Osbaldistone, as is
maist likely, and ye may be the mair learn-
ed man, whilk I dispute not ; but I reckon
ye are neither a prettier man nor a better
gentleman than mysell, and it will be news
to me when I hear ye are as gude. And
dare too ? — Muckle daring there's about it
— 1 trow here I stand, that hae slashed as het
a haggles as ony o' the twa o' ye, and thought
nae muckle o' my morning's wark when it
was dune. If my foot were on the heather, as
it's on the causeway, or this pickle gravel.

256 ROB ROY.

that's little better, I hae been waur mis-
trysted than if I were set to gie ye baith
your ser'ing o't."

Rashleigh had by this time recovered his
temper completely. " My kinsman," he
said, " will acknowledge he forced this
quarrel on me. It was none of my seek-
ing. I am glad we are interrupted be-
fore I chastised his forwardness more se-
verely.

" Are ye hurt, lad ?" enquired Campbell
at me with some appearance of interest.

" A very slight scratch," I answered,
<c which my kind cousin would not long
have boasted of had not you come be-
tween us."

" In troth, and that's true, Maister Rash-
leigh," said Campbell ; " for the cauld iron
and your best bluid were like to hae be-
come acquaint when I mastered Mr Frank's
right hand. But never look like a sow
playing on a trump for the luve o' that,
man — come and walk wi' me. I hae news
to tell ye, and ye'll cool and come to your-

ROB ROY. 257

sell, like MacGibbon's crowdy, when he set
it out at the window-bole."

" Pardon me, sir," said I, " your inten-
tions have seemed friendly to me on more
occasions than one ; but I must not, and
will not, quit sight of this person, until he
yields up to me those means of doing jus-
tice to my father's engagements, of which
he has treacherously possessed himself."

" Ye're daft, man," replied Campbell,
" it will serve ye naething to follow us e'en
now ; ye hae just enow o' ae man, wad ye
bring twa on your head, and might bide
quiet ?"

" Twenty,5' I replied, " if it be neces-
sary."

I laid my hand on Rashleigh's collar,
who made no resistance, but said, with a
sort of scornful smile, u You hear him,
MacGregor ! he rushes on his fate — will it
be my fault if he falls into it ? — The war-
rants are by this time ready, and all is
prepared."

The Scotchman was obviously embar-
rassed. He looked around, and before,

253 ROB ROY.

and behind him, and then said ; " The
ne'er a bit will I yield my consent to his
being ill-guided, for standing up for the fa-
ther that got him — and I gie God's malison
and mine to a sort o' magistrates, justices,
bailiies, sheriffs, sheriff-officers, constables,
and sic like black cattle, that hae been the
plagues o' puir auld Scotland this hunder
year ; — it was a merry warld when every
man held his ain gear wi' his ain grip, and
when the country side wasna fashed wi'
warrants and poindings and apprizings, and
a' that cheatry craft. And ance mair I say
it, my conscience winna see this puir
thoughtless lad ill-guided, and especially
wi' that sort o' trade. I wad rather ye fell
till't again, and fought it out like douce
honest men."

" Your conscience, MacGregor !" said
Rashleigh ; " you forget how long you and
I have known each other."

" Yes, my conscience ;" reiterated Camp-
bell, or MacGregor, or whatever was his
name, iC I hae such a thing about me, Mais-
ter Osbaldistone j and therein it may weel

ROB ROY. 259

chance that I hae the better o' you. As to
our knowledge of each other, — if you ken
what I am, ye ken what usage it wTas made
me what I am ; and, whatever you may think,
I would not change states with the proud-
est of the oppressors that hae driven me to
tak the heather bush for a beild. What
you are, Maister Kashleigh, and what ex-
cuse ye hae for being what you are, is be-
tween your ain heart and the lang day. —
And now, Maister Francis, let go his col-
lar ; for he says truly, that ye are in mair
danger from a magistrate than he is, and
were your cause as straight as an arrow, he
wad find a way to put you wrang — So let
go his craig, as I was saying."

He seconded his words with an effort so
sudden and unexpected, that he freed Rash-
leigh from my hold, and securing me, not-
withstanding my struggles, in his own Her-
culean gripe, he called out, u Take the
bent, Mr Rashleigh. Make ae pair o' legs
worth twa pair o' hands -7 ye hae dune that
before now."

260 ROB ROY.

" You may thank this gentleman, kins-
man," said Rashleigh, u if I leave any part
of my debt to you unpaid ; and if I quit you
now, it is only in the hope we shall soon
meet again without the possibility of inter-
ruption."

He took up his sword, wiped it, sheath-
ed it, and was lost among the bushes.

The Scotchman, partly by force, partly
by remonstrance, prevented my following
him ; indeed, I began to be of opinion my
doing so would be to little purpose.

64 As I live by bread," said Campbell,
when, after one or two struggles in which
he used much forbearance towards me,
he perceived me inclined to stand quiet,
c< I never saw sae daft a callant. I wad
hae gien the best man in the country the
breadth o' his back gin he had gien me sic
a kemping as ye hae dune. What wad ye
do ? — Wad ye follow the wolf to his den ?
— I tell ye, man, he has the auld trap set
for ye — He has got the collector-creature
Morris to bring up a' the auld story again,

ROB ROY. .261

and ye maim look for nae help frae me as
ye got at Justice Inglewood's — It is na good
for my health to come in the gate o' thae
whigamore baillie bodies. Now gang youi
ways hame, like a gude bairn — jouk and let
the jaw gae bye — Keep out o' sight o' Rash-
leigh, and Morris, and that MacVittie ani-
mal— Mind the Clachan of Aberfoil, as
I said before, and, by the word of a gen-
tleman, I winna see ye wranged. But keep
a calm sough till we meet again — I maun
gae and get Rashleigh out o' the town afore
waur comes o't, for the neb o' him's never
out o' mischief — Mind the Clachan of Aber-
foil.-"

He turned upon his heel, and left me to
meditate upon the singular events which
had befallen me. My first care was to ad-
just my dress and reassume my cloak, dis-
posing it so as to conceal the blood which
flowed down my right side ; I had scarce-
ly accomplished this, before, the classes of
the College being dismissed, the gardens
began to be filled with parties of the stu*

262 ROB ROY.

dents. I therefore left them as soon as pos-
sible ; and in my way towards Mr Jarvie's,
whose dinner hour was now approaching,
I stopped at a small unpretending shop,
the sign of which intimated the in-dweller
to be Christopher Neilson, surgeon and
apothecary. I requested of a little boy
who was pounding some stuff in a mortar,
that he would procure me an audience of
this learned pharmacopolist. He opened
the door of the back-shop, where I found a
lively elderly man, who shook his head in-
credulously at some idle account I gave
him of having been wounded accidentally
by the button breaking off my antagonist's
foil while I was engaged in a fencing match.
When he had applied some lint and some-
what else he thought proper to the tri-
fling wound I had received, he observed,
" There never was button on the foil that
made this hurt. Ah ! young blood ! — young
blood ! — But we surgeons are a secret ge-
neration— If it werena for hot blood and

ROB ROY. 263

ill blood, what would become of the two
learned faculties ?"

With which moral reflection he dismiss-
ed me, and I experienced very little pain or
inconvenience afterwards from the scratch
I had received.

%64> ROB ROY,

CHAPTER XIII.

An iron race the mountain-cliffs maintain,
Foes to the gentler genius of the plain.

******

Who, while their rocky ramparts round they see,
The rough abode of want and liberty,
As lawless force from confidence will grow,
Insult the plenty of the vales below.

Gray.

" What made ye sae late ?" said Mr
Jarvie, as I entered the dining-parlour of
that honest gentleman ; " it has chappit
ane the best feck o' five minutes by-gane.
Mattie has been twice at the door wi* the
dinner, and, weel for you, it was a tup's
head, for that canna suffer by delay. A
sheep's head ower muckle boiled is rank
poison, as my worthy father used to say —
he likit the lug o' ane weel, honest man."

I made a suitable apology for my breach
of punctuality, and was soon seated at ta-
ble, where Mr Jarvie presided with great

ROB ROY. 265

glee and hospitality, compelling, however,
Owen and myself to do rather more jus-
tice to the Scottish dainties with which his
board was charged, than was quite agree-
able to our southern palates. I escaped
pretty well, from having those habits of
society which enable one to elude this spe-
cies of well-meant persecution. But it was
ridiculous enough to see Owen, whose ideas
of politeness were more rigorous and for-
mal, and who was willing, in all acts of law-
ful compliance, to evince his respect for the
friend of the firm, eating, with rueful com-
plaisance, mouthful after mouthful of sin-
ged wool, and pronouncing it excellent, in
a tone in which disgust almost overpowered
civility.

When the cloth was removed, Mr Jar-
vie compounded with his own hands a very
small bowl of brandy-punch, the first which
I had ever the fortune to see.

" The limes," he assured us, " were
from his own little farm yonder-awa," (in-

vol. n. M

£\)6 ROB ROY.

tlicating the West Indies with a knowing
shrug of his shoulders,) " and he had learn-
ed the art of composing the liquor from
old Captain Coffinkey, who acquired it,"
he added in a whisper, <c as maist folk
thought, amang the Buccanneers. But
it's excellent liquor," said he, helping us
around ; *' and good ware has aften come
frae a wicked market. And as for Captain
Coffinkey, he was a decent man when I
kent him, only he used to swear awfully —
But he's dead, and gaen to his account,
and I trust he's accepted — I trust he's ac-
cepted."

We found the liquor exceedingly pala-
table, and it led to a long conversation be-
tween Owen and our host on the opening
which the Union had afforded to trade be-
tween Glasgow and the British colonies in
America and the West Indies, and on the
facilities which Glasgow possessed of ma-
king up sortable cargoes for that market.
Mr Jar vie answered some objection which
Owen made on the difficulty of sorting si

ROB ROY. 267

cargo for America, without buying from
England, with vehemence and volubility.

" Na, na, sir, we stand on our ain bot-
tom-—we pickle in our ain pock-neuk —
We hae our Stirling serges, Musselburgh
stuffs, Aberdeen hose, Edinburgh shalloons,
and the like, for our woollen or worsted
goods — and we hae linens of a' kinds bet-
ter and cheaper than you hae in Lunnon
itsel — and we can buy your north o* Eng-
land wares, as Manchester wares, Sheffield
wares, and Newcastle earthen-ware, as cheap
as you can at Liverpool — And we are ma-
king a fair spell at cottons and muslins —
Na, na ! let every herring hing by its ain
head, and every sheep by its ain shank,
and ye'll find, sir, us Glasgow folk no sac
far ahint but what we may follow. — This iu
but poor entertainment for you, Mr Os-
baldistone," (observing that I had been for
some time silent,) * but ye ken cadgers
maun aye be speaking about cart saddles.'3

I apologized, alleging the painful cir-
cumstances of my own situation, and the

268 rob hoy.

singular adventures of the morning, as the
causes of my abstraction and absence of
mind. In this manner I gained what I
sought — an opportunity of telling my story
distinctly and without interruption. I only
omitted mentioning the wound I had re-
ceived, which I did not think worthy of no-
tice. Mr Jarvie listened with great atten-
tion and apparent interest, twinkling his
little grey eyes, taking snuff, and only in-
terrupting me by brief interjections. When
I came to the account of the rencounter,
at which Owen folded his hands and cast
up his eyes to Heaven, the very image of
woeful surprise, Mr Jarvie broke in upon
the narration with " Wrang now — clean
wrang — to draw a sword on your kinsman
is inhibited by the laws o' God and man ;
and to draw a sword on the streets of a
royal burgh, is punishable by fine and im-
prisonment— and the College-yards are na
better privileged — they should be a place
of peace and quietness, I trow. The Col-
lege didna get gude L.6O0 a-year out o'

ROB ROY. 269

bishops' rents, (sorrow fa' the brood o' bi-
shops and their rents too !) nor yet a lease o'
the archbishoprick o' Glasgow the sell o't,
that they suld let folk tuilzie in their yards,
or the wild callants bicker there wi' snaw-
ba's as they whiles do, that when Mattie
and I gae through, we are fain to make a
baik and a bow, or rin the risk o' our hairns
being knocked out — it suld be looked to
— But come awa' wi' your tale — what fell
neist ?"

On my mentioning the appearance of
Mr Campbell, Jarvie arose in great sur-
prise, and paced the room, exclaiming,
<c Robin again ? — Robert's mad — clean
wud, and waur — Rob will be hanged and
disgrace a' his kindred, and that will be
seen and heard tell o\ My father the dea-
con wrought him his first hose — odd, I am
thinking Deacon Threepiie, the rape-spin-
ner, will be spinning his last cravat. Ay,
ay, puir Robin is in a fair way o' being
hanged — But come awa' — come awa' — let's
hear the iave o't."

270 HOB ROY.

I told the whole story as pointedly as 1
could ; but Mr Jarvie still found something
lacking to make it clear, until I went back,
though with considerable reluctance, on
the whole story of Morris, and of my meet-
ing with Campbell at the house of Justice
Inglewood. Mr Jarvie Inclined a serious
ear to all this, and remained silent for some
time after I had finished my narrative.

" Upon all these matters I am now to
ask your advice, Mi Jarvie, which, I have
no doubt, will point out the best way to
act for my father's advantage and my own
honour."

II Ye're right, young man — ye're right/'
said Jarvie. " Aye take the counsel of
those who are aulder and wiser than your-
sell, and binna like the godless Rehoboara,
who took the advice o' a wheen beardless
callants, neglecting the auld counsellors
who had sate at the feet o' his father Solo-
mon, and, as it was weel put by Mr Meikle-
john, in his lecture on the chapter, were

ROB ROY. 271

doubtless partakers of his sapience. But
I maun hear naething about honour — we
ken naething here but about credit. Ho-
nour is a homicide and a bloodspilJer, that
gangs about making frays in the street \
but Credit is a decent, honest man, that
sits at hame and makes the pat play."

m Assuredly, Mr Jarvie," said our friend
Owen, " credit is the sum total ; and if
we can but save that, at whatever dis-
count"

" Ye are right, Mr Owen — ye are right ;
ye speak weel and wisely ; and I trust
bowls will row right though they are awee
ajee e'enow. But touching Robin, I am
of opinion he will befriend this young man
if it is in his power. He has a gude heart,
puir Robin ; and though I lost a matter o'
twa hunder punds wi' his former engage-
ments, and haena muckle expectation ever
to see back my thousand pund Scots that
he promises me e'enow, yet I will never
say but what Robin means fair by a' men."

272 ROB ROY.

" I am then to consider him," I replied,
" as an honest man ?"

" Umph !" replied Jarvie, with a precau-
tionary sort of cough, — " Ay, he has a
kind o' Hieland honesty — he's honest after
a sort, as they say. My father the deacon
used aye to laugh when he tauld me how
that bye-word came up. Ane Captain
Costlett was cracking crouse about his
loyalty to King Charles, and Clerk Petti-
grew (ye'U hae heard mony a tale about
him) asked him after what manner he ser-
ved the king, when he was righting again
him at Worster in Cromwell's army ; and
Captain Costlett was a ready body, and
said that he served him after a sort. My
honest father used to laugh weel at that
sport — and sae the bye-word came up."

" But do you think," I said, " that this

man will be able to serve me after a sort,

or should I trust myself to this place of

rendezvous which he has given me ?"

" Frankly and fairly, it's worthy trying.

ROB ROY. 273

Ye see voursell there's some risk in your
staying here. This bit body Morris has got-
ten a custom-house place doun at Green-
ock— that's a port on the Firth doun bye
here ; and tho' a' the warld kens him to be
but a twa-leggit creature, wi' a goose's head
and a hen's heart, that goes about on the
quay plaguing folk about permits, and
cockits, and dockits, and a' that vexatious
trade, yet if he lodge an information — ou,
nae doubt a man in magisterial duty maun
attend to it, and ye might come to be
clapped up between four wa's, whilk wad
be ill-convenient to your father's affairs."

" True," I observed ; " yet what service
am I likely to render him by leaving Glas-
gow, which, it is probable, will be the prin-
cipal scene of Rashleigh's machinations, and
committing myself to the doubtful faith of
a man of whom I know little but that he
fears justice, and has doubtless good reason
for doing so ; and that for some secret, and
probably dangerous purpose, he is in close
m 2

274* ROB ROY.

league and alliance with the very person
who is like to be the author of our ruin ?"

" Ah ! but ye judge Rob hardly," said
the Baillie, — " ye judge him hardly, puir
chield 5 and the truth is, that ye ken nae-
thing about our hill country, or Hielands,
as we ca* them. They are clean anither set
frae the like o' huz ; there's nae baillie-
courts amang them — nae magistrates that
dinna bear the sword in vain, like the worthy
deacon that's awa — and, I may say't, like
mysell and other present magistrates in this
city — But it's just the laird's command, and
the loon maun loup ; and the never another
law hae they but the length o' their dirks —
the broadsword's pursuer or plaintiff, as you
Englishers ca' it, and the target is defend-
er ; the stoutest head bears langest out —
and there's a Hieland plea for ye."

Owen groaned deeply ; and I allow that
the description did not greatly increase my
desire to trust myself in a country so law-
less as he described these Scottish moun-
tains.

ROB ROY. 275

" Now, sir," said Jarvie, u we speak little
o' thae things, because they are familiar to
oursells; and where's the use o' vilifying
ane's country, and bringing a discredit on
ane's kin, before southrons and strangers ?
It's an ill bird that files its ain nest."

* Well, sir, but as it is no impertinent cu-
riosity of mine, but real necessity, that ob-
liges me to make these enquiries, I hope
you will not be offended at my pressing for
a little further information. I have to deal,
on my father's account, with several gen-
tlemen of these wild countries, and I must
trust your good sense and experience for
the requisite lights upon the subject."

This little morsel of flattery was not
thrown out in vain.

" Experience !" said the Baillie, «' I hae
had experience, nae doubt, and I hae made
some calculations — Ay, and to speak quiet-
ly amang oursells, I hae made some per-
quisitions through Andrew Wylie, my auld
clerk ; he's wi' MacVittie and Co. now—
but he whiles drinks a gill on the Saturday

276 ROB ROY.

afternoons wi' his auld master. And since
ye say ye are willing to be guided by the
Glasgow weaver body's advice, I am no
the man that will refuse it to the son of an
auld correspondent, and my father the dea-
con was nane sic afore me. I have whiles
thought o' letting my lights burn before the
Duke of Argyle, or his brother Lord Hay,
(for wherefore should they be hidden un-
der a bushel ?) but the like o' thae grit men
wadna mind the like o' me, a puir wabster
body — they think mair o' wha says a thing
than o' what's said. The mair's the pity —
mair's the pity — Not that I wad speak ony
ill of this Maccallummore — * Curse not the
rich in your bed-chamber,' saith the son of
Sirach, for a bird of the air shall carry the
clatter, and pint-stoups hae lang lugs."

I interrupted these prolegomena, in which
Mr Jarvie was apt to be somewhat diffuse,
by praying him to rely upon Mr Owen and
myself as perfectly secret and safe confi-
dants.

" It's no for that," he replied, " for I

ROB ROY. 277

fear nae man — what for suld I ? — I speak
nae treason — Only thae Hielandmen hae
lang grips, and I whiles gang a wee bit up
the glens to see some auld kinsfolks, and I
wadna willingly be in bad blude wi' ony o*
their clans. Howsumever, to proceed —
Ye maun understand I found my remarks
on figures, whilk, as Mr Owen here weel
kens, is the only true demonstrable root of
human knowledge."

Owen readily assented to a proposition
so much in his own wav, and our orator
proceeded*

<c These Hielands of ours, as we ca' them,
gentlemen, are but a wild kind of warld by
themsells, full of heights and hows, woods,
caverns, lochs, rivers, and mountains, that
it wad tire the very deevil's wings to flee
to the tap o' them. And in this country,
and in the isles, whilk are little better, or,
to speak the truth, rather waur than the
main land, there are about twa hunder and
thirty parochines, including the Orkneys,
where, whether they speak Gaelic or no,

278 ROB ROY.

I wot na, but they are an uncivilized people.
— Now, sirs, I sail haud ilk parochine at
the moderate estimate of eight hunder ex-
aminable persons, deducting children un-
der nine years of age, and then adding one-
fifth to stand for bairns of nine years auld,
and under, the whole population will reach
to the sum of — let us add one-fifth to 800
to be the multiplier, and 230 being the
multiplicand"

" The product," said Mr Owen, who
entered delightedly into these statistics of
Mr Jarvie, * will be 230,000."

" Right, sir — perfectly right ; and the
array of this Hieland country, were a' the
men-folk between aughteen and fifty-six
brought out that could bear arms, could na
come weel short of fifty-seven thousand
five hundred men. Now, sir, it's a sad and
awfu' truth, that there is neither wark, nor
the very fashion or appearance of wark, for
the tae half of thae puir creatures ; that is
to say, that the agriculture, the pasturage,
the fisheries, and every species of honest

ROB ROY. 279

industry about the country, cannot employ
the one moiety of the population, let them
work as lazily as they like, and they do
work as if a pleugh or a spade burnt their
fingers. Awed, sir, this moiety of unem-
ployed bodies, amounting to "

" To one hundred and fifteen thousand
souls," said Owen, " being the half of the
above product,"

" Ye hae't, Maister Owen — ye hae't —
whereof there may be twenty-eight thou-
sand seven hundred able-bodied gillies fit
to bear arms, and that do bear arms, and
will touch or look at nae honest means of
livelihood even if they could get it — which,
lack-a-day, they cannot."

" But is it possible," said I, " Mr Jarvie,
that this can be a just picture of 60 large a
portion of the island of Britain ?"

" Sir, I'll make it as plain as Peter Pas-
ley's pike- staff — I will allow that ilk paro-
chine, on an average, employs fifty pleughs,
whiik is a great proportion in sic miserable

280 ROB ROY.

soil as they creatures hae to labour, and that
there may be pasture aneugh for pleugh-
horses, and owsen, and forty or fifty cows ;
now, to take care o' the pleughs and cattle,
we'se allow seventy -five families of six lives
in ilk family, and we'se add fifty mair to
make even numbers, and ye hae Hve hun-
dred souls, the tae half o' the population,
employed and maintained in a sort o' fa-
shion, wi' some chance of sour-milk and
crowdie ; but 1 wad be glad to ken what
the other five hunder are to do ?"

" In the name of God !" said I, " what do
they do, Mr Jarvie ? It makes me shudder
to think of their situation."

" Sir," replied the Baiilie, " ye wad may
be shudder mair if ye were living near-hand
them. For, admitting that the tae half of
them may make some little thing for them-
seiis honestly in the Lowlands by shearing
in harst, droving, haymaking, and the like ;
ye hae still mbny hundreds and thousands
o' lang-legged Hieland gillies that will nei-

rob Rtfy. 281

ther work nor want, and maun gang thig-
ging and sorning about on their acquaint-
ance, or live by the doing the laird's bid-
ding, be't right or be't wrang. And mair
especially, mony hundreds o' them come
down to the borders of the low country,
where there's gear to grip, and live by steal-
ing, reiving, lifting cows, and the like de-
predations! A thing deplorable in ony
Christian country — the mair especially, that
they take pride in it, and reckon driving a
spreagh (whilk is, in plain Scotch, stealing
a herd of nowte,) a gallant, manly action,
and mair befitting of pretty men (as sic rei-
vers will ca' themsells,) than to win a day's
wage by ony honest thrift. And the lairds
are as bad as the loons ; for if they dinna
bid them gae reive and harry, the deil a bit
they forbid them j and they shelter them,
or let them shelter themsells, in their woods,
and mountains, and strong-holds, whenever
the thing's dune. And every ane o' them
will mainteen as mony o' his ain name, or
his clan, as we say, as he can rap and rend

382 ROB ROY.

means for ; or, whilk's the same thing, as
mony as can in ony fashion, fair or foul,
mainteen themsells — and there they are wi'
gun and pistol, dirk and dourlach, ready to
disturb tiie peace o' the country whenever
the laird likes; and that's the grievance
of the Hielands, whilk are, and hae been
for this thousand years bye past, a bike o'
the maist lawless unchristian limmers that
ever disturbed a douce, quiet, Godfearing
neighbourhood, like this o' ours in the west
here."

* And this kinsman of your's, and friend
of mine, is he one of those great proprietors
who maintain the household troops you
speak of ?" I enquired.

w Na, na,'3 said Baillie Jarvie ; " he's
nane o' your great grandees o' chiefs, as
they ca' them, neither. Though he is weel
born, and lineally descended frae auld
Glenstrae — I ken his Lineage — indeed he
is a near kinsman, and, as I said, gude
gentle Hieland blude, though ye may think
weel that I care little about that nonsense

ROB ROY. 283

— it's a' moonshine in water — waste threads
and thrums, as we say — but I could show
ye letters frae his father, that was the third
aff Glenstrae, to my father, Deacon Jarvie,
(peace be wi' his memory,) beginning, Dear
Deacon, and ending, your loving kinsman
to command, — they are amaist a' about bor-
rowed siller, sae the gude deacon that's
dead and gane, keepit them as documents
and evidents — He was a carefu' man."

" But if he is not," I resumed, " one of
their chiefs or patriarchal leaders, whom I
have heard my father talk of, this kinsman
of your's has, at least, much to say in the
Highlands, I presume ?"

" Ye may say that — nae name better
kenn'd between the Lennox and Breadal-
bane. Robin was anes a weel-doing, pains-
taking drover as ye wad see amang ten
thousand — It was a pleasure to see him in
his belted plaid and brogues, wi' his target
at his back, and claymore and dirk at his
belt, following a hundred Highland stots,
and a dozen o' the gillies, as rough and

284 ROB ROY.

ragged as the beasts they drave. And he
was baith civil and just in his dealings, and
if he thought his chapman had made a hard
bargain, he wad gie him a luck penny to
the mends. I hae kenn'd him gie back five
shillings out o' the pund sterling."

" Twenty-five per cent," said Owen— .
cs a heavy discount."

" He wad gie it though, sir, as I tell ye j
mair especially if he thought the buyer
was a puir man and couldna stand by a
loss. But the times cam hard, and Rob
was venturesome. It wasna my faut — it
wasna my faut ; he canna wyte me. I aye
tauld him o't — And the creditors, mair es-
pecially some grit neighbours o' his, grip-
pit to his living and land ; and they say
his wife was turned out o' the house to the
hill-side, and sair misguided to the boot.
Shamefu' ! shamefu' ! — I am a peacefu' man
and a magistrate, but if ony ane had guided
sae muckie as my servant quean, Mattie, as
it's like they guided Rob's wife, I think it
suld hae set the shabble that my father the

ROB ROY, 285

deacon had at Bothwel-brigg a-walking
again. Wed, Rob cam hame, and fand
desolation, God pity us ! where he left
plenty ; he looked east, west, south, and
north, and saw neither hauld nor hope —
neither beild nor shelter — sae he e'en pu'd
the bonnet ower his brow, belted the broad-
sword to his side, took to the brae-side,
and became a broken man."

The voice of the good citizen was broken
by his contending feelings. He obviously,
while he professed to contemn the pedigree
of his Highland kinsman, attached a secret
feeling ot consequence to the connection,
and he spoke of his friend in his prosperity
with an overflow of affection, which deep-
ened his sympathy for his misfortunes, and
his regret for their consequences,

" Thus tempted, and urged by despair,"

said I, seeing Mr Jarvie did not proceed in

his narrative, " I suppose your kinsman

became one of those depredators you have

described to us ?"

V No sae bad as that," said the Glaswe-

8

286 ROB ROY,

gian, — « no a'thegither and outright sac
bad as that ; but he became a levyer of
black-mail, wider and farther than ever it
was raised in our day, a' through the Len-
nox and Menteith, and up to the gates 0'
Stirling castle."

" Black-mail ? — I do not understand the
phrase," I remarked.

" Ou> ye see, Rob soon gathered an unco
band o' blue-bonnets at his back, for he
comes o' a rough name when he's kent by
his ain, and a name that's held its ain for
mony a lang year, baith again king and
parliament, and kirk too, for aught I ken
— an auld and honourable name, for as
sair as it has been worried and hadden
down and oppressed. My mother wras a
MacGregor — 1 care na wha kens it — and
sae Rob had soon a gallant band ; and as
it grieved him (he said) to see sic hership,
and waste, and depredation to the south o'
the Hieland line, why, if ony heritor or
farmer wad pay him four punds Scots out
of each hundred punds of valued rent,

ROB ROY. 287

whilk was doubtless a moderate considera-
tion, Rob engaged to keep thein scaithless
—let them send to him if they lost sae
muckle as a single cloot by thieving, and
Rob engaged to get them again, or pay
the value — and he aye keepit his word — I
canna deny but he keepit his word — a'
men allow Rob keeps his word."

" This is a very singular contract of as-
surance," said Mr Owen.

" It's clean again our statute law, that
must be owned," said Jarvie, " clean again
law ; the levying and the paying black-
mail are baith punishable : but if the law
canna protect my barn and byre, whatfor
suld I no engage wi' a Hieland gentleman
that can ? — answer me that."

" But," said I, " Mr Jarvie, is this con-
tract of black-mail, as you call it, complete-
ly voluntary on the part of the landlord or
farmer who pays the insurance ? or what
usually happens, in case any one refuses
payment of this tribute ?"

" Aha, lad I" said the Baillie, laughing,
I

288 ROB ROY.

and putting his finger to his nose, " ye
think ye hae me there. Troth, I wad ad-
vise ony friends o' mine to gree wi' Rob ;
for watch as they like, and do what they
like, they are sair apt to be harried when
the lang nights come on. Some o' the
Grahame and Cohoon gentry stood out 5
but what then ?— they lost their hale stock
the first winter ; sae maist folks now think
it best to come into Rob's terms. He's
easy wi' a body that will be easy wi' him ;
but if ye thraw him, ye had better thraw
the deevil."

" And by his exploits in these voca-
tions," I continued, " I suppose he has
rendered himself amenable to the laws of
the country ?"

" Amenable ? — ye may say that ; his
craig wad ken the weight o' his hurdies if
they could get haud o' Rob. But he has
gude friends amang the grit folks ; and I
could tell ye o' ae grit family that keeps
him up as far as they decently can, to be a
thorn in the side of anither. And then he's

ROB HOY. 289

sic an auld-farran lang-headed chield as
never took up the trade o' kateran in our
time ; mony a daft reik he has played —
mair than wad fill a book, aim a queer ane
it wad be — as gude as Robin Hood, or
William Wallace — a' fu' o' venturesome
deeds and escapes, sic as folk tell ower at
a winter-ingle in the daft days. It's a queer
thing o' me, gentlemen, that am a man o*
peace my sell, and a peacefu' man's son, for
the deacon my father quarrelled wi' nane
out o' the town- council — it's a queer thing,
I say, but I think the Hieland blude o' me
warms at thae daft tales, and whiles I like
better to hear them than a word o' profit,
gude forgi'e me ! — But they are vanities —
sinfu' vanities — and, moreover, again the
statute law — again the statute and gospel
law."

I now followed up my investigation, by
enquiring what means o* influence this Mr
Robert Campbell could possibly possess
over my arlairs or those of my father.

" Why, ye are to understand," said Jar-

VOL. II. n

290 ROB ROY.

vie, in a very subdued tone — " I speak
amang friends, and under the rose — Ye
are to understand, that the Hielands hae
been keepit quiet since the year aughty-
nine — that was Killiecrankie year. But
how hae they been keepit quiet, think ye ?
By siller, Mr Owen — by siller, Mr Os-
baldistone. King William caused Bread-
albane distribute twenty thousand gude
punds sterling amang them, and it's said
the auld Highland Earl keepit a lang lug
o't in his ain sporran — And then Queen
Anne, that's dead, gae the chiefs bits o'
pensions, sae they had wherewith to sup-
port their gillies and katerans that work
nae wark, as I said afore ; and they lay
bye quiet eneugh, saving some spreagherie
on the Lowlands, whilk is their use and
wTont, and some cutting o' thrapples amang
themsels, that nae civilized body kens or
cares ony thing anent. — Weel, but there's a
new warld come up wi' this King George,
(I say, God bless him for ane), — there's
neither like to be siller nor pensions gaun

ROB ROY. 291

amang them ; they haena the means o'
mainteening the clans that eat them up, as
ye may guess frae what I said before ; their
credit's gane in the Lowlands ; and a man
that can whistle ye up a thousand or feif-
teen hundred linking lads to do his will,
wad hardly get fifty punds on his band at
the Cross o' Glasgow — This canna stand
lang — there will be an outbreak for the
Stuarts — there will be an outbreak — they
will come down on the Low Country like
a flood, as they did in the waefu' wars o'
Montrose, and that will be seen and heard
tell o' ere a twalmonth gangs round."

" Yet still," I said, " I do not see how
this concerns Mr Campbell, much less my
father's affair s."

" Rob can levy five hundred men, sir,
and therefore war suld concern him as
muckle as maist folk," replied the Baillie ;
" for it is a faculty that is far less profitable
in time o' peace. Then, to tell ye the truth,
I doubt he has been the prime agent be-

'29% ROB ROY.

tween some o' our Hieland chiefs and the
gentlemen in the north o' England. We a'
heard o' the public money that was ta'en
frae the chield Morris somewhere about
the fit o' Cheviot by Rob and ane o' the
Osbaldistone lads ; and, to tell ye the truth,
word gaed that it was yoursel, Mr Francis,
and sorry was I that your father's son suld
hae ta'en to sic practices — Na, ye needna
say a word about it — I see weel I was mis-
ta'en ; but I wad believe ony thing o' a
stage-player, whilk I concluded ye to be.
But now, I doubtna, it has been Rashleigh
himself or some other o' your cousins —
they are a' tarr'd wi' the same stick — rank
Jacobites and papists, and wad think the
government siller and government papers
lawfu' prize. And the creature Morris is
sic a cowardly caitiff, that to this hour he
daurna say that it was Rob took the port-
manteau aff him ; and troth he's right, for
your custom-house and excise cattle are ill
liket on a' sides, and Rob might get a back-

ROB ROY. 293

handed lick at him, before the Board, as
they ca't, could help him."

" I have long suspected this, Mr Jarvie,"
said T, " and perfectly agree with you. But
as to my father's affairs"

" Suspected it ? — it's certain — it's certain
— I ken them that saw some o' the papers
that were ta'en aff Morris — it's needless
to say where. But to your father's affairs
— Ye maun think that in time twenty years
by-gane some o* the Hieland lairds and
chiefs hae come to some sma' sense o' their
ain interest — Your father and others hae
bought the woods of Glen-Disseries, Glen-
Kissoch,Tober-na-Kippoch, and monymair
besides, and your father's house has grant-
ed large bills in payment, — and as the cre-
dit o' Osbaldistone and Tresham was gude
— for I'll say before Mr Owen's face as I
wad behind his back, that, bating misfor-
tunes o' the Lord's sending, nae men could
be mair honourable in business — the Hie-
land gentlemen, holders o' thae bills, hae
found credit in Glasgow and Edinburgh (I

294 ROB ROY.

might amaist say in Glasgow wholly, for
it's little the pridefu' Edinburgh folk do in
real business) for all, or the greater part of

the contents o' thae bills So that — Aha !

d'ye see me now ?"

I confessed I could not quite follow his
drift.

" Why," said he, " if the bills are not
paid, the Glasgow merchant comes on the
Hieland lairds, whae hae de'il a boddle o*
siller, and will like ill to spew up what is
item a' spent — They will turn desperate —
five hundred will rise that might hae sittin
at hame— the de'il will gae ower Jock
Wabster — and the stopping of your father's
house will hasten the outbreak that's been
sae lang biding us."

" You think then," said I, surprised at
this singular view of the case, " that Rash-
leigh Osbaldistone has done this injury to
my father merely to accelerate a rising in
the Highlands, by distressing the gentle-
men to whom these bills were originally
granted ?"

ROB ROY. 295

M Doubtless — doubtless — it has been one
main reason, Mr Osbaldistone. I doubtna
but what the ready money he carried off
wi? him might be another, But that makes
comparatively but a sma' part o' your fa-
ther's loss, though it might make the maist
part o' Rashleigh's direct gain. The assetts
he carried off are of nae mair use to him
than if he were to light his pipe wi' them.
He tried if MacVittie and Co. wad gi'e
him siller on them — that I ken by Andro
Wylie — but they were ower auld cats to
draw that strae afore them — they keepit afF
and gae fair words. Rashleigh Osbaldis-
tone is better kenn'd than trusted in Glas-
gow, for he was here about some Jacobiti-
cal Papistical troking in seventeen hun-
dred and seven, and left debt ahint him.
Na, na, he canna pit aff the paper here j
folk will misdoubt him how he came by it.
Na, na, he'll hae the stuff safe at some o'
their haulds in the Hielands, and I daur
say my cousin Rob could get at it gin he
liked."

296 hob roy.

" But would he be disposed to serve us
in this pinch, Mr Jarvie ?" said I. u You
have described him as an agent of the Ja-
cobite party, and deeply connected in their
intrigues ; will he be disposed for my sake,
or, if you please, for the sake of justice, to
make an act of restitution, which, suppo-
sing it in his power, would, according to
your view of the case, materially interfere
with their plans ?"

" I canna preceesely speak to that — the
grandees amang them are doubtfu' o' Rob,
and he's doubtfu' o' them — and he's been
weel friended wi' the Argyle family — If he
was freed o' his hornings and captions, he
wad rather be on Argyle's side than he wad
be on Breadalbane's, for there's auld ill-
will between the Breadalbane family and
his kin and name. The truth is, that Rob
is for his ain hand, as Henry Wynd feught
— He'll take the side that suits him best ;
if the deil was laird, Rob wad be for being
tenant, and ye canna blame him, puir fal-
low, considering his circumstances. But

ROB ROY. 297

there's ae thing sair again ye — Rob has a
grey mare in his stable at hame."

" A grey mare ?" said I. Ci What is that
to the purpose ?"

" The wife, man — the wife, — an awfu'
wife she is. She downa bide the sight o' a
kindly Scot, if he come frae the Lowlands,
far less of an Inglisher, and she'll be keen
for a' that can set up King James, and
ding down King George."

" It is very singular," I replied, " that
the mercantile transactions of London citi-
zens should become involved with revolu-
tions and rebellions."

" Not at a', man — not at a'," returned
Mr Jar vie, " that's a' your silly prejudica-
tions. I read whiles in the lang dark
nights, and I hae read in Baker's Chronicle
that the merchants o' London could gar
the Bank of Genoa break their promise to
advance a mighty sum to the King of
Spain, whereby the sailing of the Grand
Spanish Armada was put aff for a hale
year — What think you of that, sir ?"
n 2

298 ROB HOY.

" That the merchants did their country
golden service, which ought to be honour-
ably remembered in our histories."

" I think sae too ; and they wad do weel,
and deserve weel baith o' the state and o'
humanity, that wad save three or four ho-
nest Hieland gentlemen frae louping heads
ower heels into destruction, wi' a' their puir
sackless followers, just because they canna
pay back the siller they had reason to count
upon as their ain — and save your father's
credit — and my ain gude siller that Osbal-
distone and Tresham awes me into the bar-
gain— I say if ane could manage a' this, I
think it suld be done and said unto him,
even if he were a puir ca-the-shuttle body,
as unto one whom the king delighteth to
honour."

46 I cannot pretend to estimate the ex-
tent of public gratitude," I replied ; " but
our own thankfulness, Mr Jarvie, would be
commensurate with the extent of the obli-
gation."

" Which," added Mr Owen, " we would

ROB ROY. 299

endeavour to balance with a per contra the
instant our Mr Osbaldistone returns from
Holland."

" I doubtna — I doubtna — he is a very
worthy gentleman, and a sponsible, and wi'
some o' my lights might do muckle busi-
ness in Scotland — Weel, sir, if these assetts
could be redeemed out o' the hands o' the
Philistines, they are gude paper — they are
the right stuff when they are in the right
hands, and that's yours, Mr Owen. — And
Fse find ye three men in Glasgow, for as
little as ye may think o' us, Mr Owen, —
that's Sandie Steenson in the Trade's-Land,
and John Pirie in Candleriggs, and another,
that sail be nameless at this present, sail
advance what soums are sufficient to secure
the credit of your house, and seek nae bet-
ter security."

Owen's eyes sparkled at this prospect of
extrication ; but his countenance instantly
fell on recollecting how improbable it was
that the recovery of the assetts, as he techi
nically called them, should be successfully
achieved.

300 ROB ROY.

" Dinna despair, sir — dinna despair,"
said Mr Jarvie ; u I hae taen sae muckle
concern wi' your affairs already, that it
maun een be ower shoon ower boots wi'
me now. I am just like my father the dea-
con, (praise be wi' him !) I canna meddle
wi' a friend's business, but I aye end wi'
making it my ain — Sae, I'll een pit on my
boots the morn, and be jogging ower Dry-
men-Muir wi' Mr Frank here, and if I
canna mak Rob hear reason, and his wife
too, I dinna ken wha can — 1 hae been a
kind freend to them afore now, to say nae-
thing o' ower-looking him last night, when
naming his name wad hae cost him his life
— I'll be hearing o' this in the council may-
be f'rae Baillie Grahame, and MacVittie,
and some o' them. They hae coost up my
kindred to Rob to me already — set up their
nashgabs. I tauld them 1 wad vindicate
nae man's faults ; but set apart what he
had dune again the law o' the country, and
the hership o' the Lennox, and the misfor-
tune o' some folk losing life by him, he

ROB ROY. 301

was an honester man than stude on ony o*
their shanks — And whatfor suld I mind
their clavers? — If Rob is an outlaw, to him-
sell be it said — there is nae laws now about
reset of intercommuned persons, as there
was in the ill times o* the last Stuarts — I
trow I hae a Scotch tongue in my head—
if they speak, Fse answer."

It was with great pleasure that I saw the
Baillie gradually surmount the barriers of
caution, under the united influence of pub-
lic spirit and good-natured interest in our
own affairs, together with his natural wish to
avoid loss and acquire gain, and not a little
harmless vanity. Through the combined
opeiation of these motives he at length ar-
rived at the doughty resolution of taking the
field in person, to aid in the recovery of my
father's property. His whole information
led i e to believe, that, if the papers were
in possession of this Highland adventurer,
it might be possible to induce him to sur-
render what he could not keep with any

802 ROB ROY.

prospect of personal advantage ; and I was
conscious that the presence of his kinsman
was likely to have considerable weight with
him. I therefore cheerfully acquiesced in
Mr Jarvie*s proposal, that we should set out
early next morning.

That honest gentleman was indeed as
vivacious and alert in preparing to carry
his purpose into execution, as he had
been slow and cautious in forming it. He
roared to Mattie to air his trot-cosey, to
have his jack- boots greased and set before
the kitchen-fire all night, and to see that
his beast was corned, and a* his riding
gear in order. Having agreed to meet him
at ^ve o'clock next morning, and having
settled that Owen, whose presence could
be of no use to us upon this expedition,
should await our return at Glasgow, we
took a kind farewell of this unexpectedly
zealous friend. I installed Owen in an
apartment in my lodgings, contiguous to
my own, and, giving orders to Andrew
Fairservice to attend me next morning at
9

ROB ROY. 30S

the hour appointed, I retired to rest with
better hopes than it had lately been my for
tune to entertain.

304 ROB ROY.

CHAPTER XIII.

Far as the eye could reach no tree was seen,
Earth, clad in russet, scorn'd the lively green ;
No birds, except as birds of passage, flew ;
No bee was heard to hum, no dove to coo ;
No streams, as amber smooth — as amber clear,
Were seen to glide, or heard to warble here.

Prophecy of Famine.

It was in the bracing atmosphere of a
harvest morning that I met by appointment
Fairservice, with the horses, at the door of
Mr Jarvie's house, which was but little
space distant from Mrs FJyter's hotel. The
first matter which caught my attention
was, that whatever were the deficiencies
of the poney which Mr Fairservice's legal
adviser, Clerk Touthope, generously be-
stowed upon him in exchange for Thorn-
cliff's mare, he had contrived to part with*

10

ROB ROY. 305

it, and procure in its stead an animal with
so curious and complete a lameness, that
it seemed only to make use of three legs
for the purpose of progression, while the
fourth wTas meant to be flourished in the
air by way of accompaniment. c< What
do you mean by bringing such a creature
as that here, sir ? and where is the poney
you rode to Glasgow upon ?" were my very
natural and impatient enquiries.

" I selPt it, sir. It was a slink beast, and
wad hae eaten its head affstanding at Luckie
Flyter's at livery. And 1 hae bought this
on your honour's account. It's a grand
bargain — cost but a pund sterling the
foot — that's four a'thegither. The string-
halt will gae afF when it's gaen a mile ; it's
a weel-kenn'd ganger ; they ca' it Souple
Tarn."

" On my soul, sir !" said I, " you will
never rest till my supple-jack and your
shoulders become acquainted. If you do
not go instantly and procure the other

306 ROB ROY.

brute, you shall pay the penalty of your
ingenuity."

Andrew, notwithstanding my threats,
continued to battle the point, as he said it
would cost him a guinea of rue-bargain to
the man who had bought his poney, before
he could get it back again. Like a true
Englishman, though sensible 1 was duped
by the rascal, I was about to pay his exac-
tion rather than lose time, when forth sal-
lied Mr Jarvie, cloaked, mantled, hooded,
and booted, as if for a Siberian winter,
while two apprentices, under the immedi-
ate direction of Mattie, led forth the de-
cent ambling steed which had the honour
on such occasions to support the person of
the Glasgow magistrate. Ere he " clombe
to the saddle," an expression more descrip-
tive of the Baillie's mode of mounting than
that of the knights-errant to whom Spenser
applies it, he enquired the cause of the dis-
pute betwixt my servant and me. Having
learned the nature of honest Andrew's ma-

ROB ROY. 307

HGeuvre, he instantly cut short all debate,
by pronouncing, that if Fairservice did not
forthwith return the three-legged palfrey,
and produce the more useful quadruped
which he had discarded, he would send
him to prison, and amerce him in half his
wages. " Mr Osbaldistone,,, said he, " con-
tracted for the service of both your horse
and you — twa brutes at ance — ye uncon-
scionable rascal — but I'se look weel after
you during this journey."

" It will be nonsense fining me," said
Andrew, doughtily, " that hasna a grey
groat to pay a fine wi' — it's ill taking the
breeks aff a Hielandman.,>

" If ye hae nae purse to fine, ye hae
flesh to pine," replied the Baillie, " and I
will look weel to ye getting your deserts
the tae way or the tither."

To the commands of Mr Jarvie, there-
fore, Andrew was compelled to submit,
only muttering between his teeth, " Ower
mony maisters — ower mony maisters, as

308 ROB ROY.

the paddock said to the harrow, when eve-
ry tooth gae her a tig."

Apparently he found no difficulty of
getting rid of Supple Tarn, and recovering
possession of his former Bucephalus, for he
accomplished the exchange without being
many minutes absent ; nor did I hear fur-
ther of his having paid any smart-money
for breach of bargain.

We now set forwards, but had not reach-
ed the top of the street in which Mr Jarvie
dwelt, when a loud hallooing, and a breath-
less call of " Stop, stop !" was heard behind
us. We stopped accordingly, and were
overtaken by Mr Jarvie's two lads, who
bore two parting tokens of Mattie's care
for her master. The first was conveyed in
the form of a voluminous silk handkerchief,
like the main-sail of one of his own West-
Indiamen, which Mrs Mattie particularly
desired he would put about his neck, and.
which, thus entreated, he added to his
other integuments. The second youngster

ROB ROY. 309

brought only a verbal charge {I thought I
saw the rogue disposed to laugh as he de-
livered it,) on the part of the housekeeper,
that her maister would take care of the
waters. " Pooh ! pooh ! silly hussy," an-
swered Mr Jarvie ; but added, turning to
me, " it shows a kind heart though — it
shews a kind heart in sae young a quean —
Mattie's a carefu' lass." So speaking, he
pricked the sides of his palfrey, and we left
the town without farther interruption.

While we paced easily forward, by a road
which conducted us north-eastward from
the town, I had an opportunity to estimate
and admire the good qualities of my new
friend. Although, like my father, he con-
sidered commercial transactions to be the
most important objects of human life, he
was not wedded to them to such a degree
as to undervalue more general knowledge.
On the contrary, with much odtiity and
vulgarity of manner, — with a vanity which
he made much more ridiculous by disgui-
sing it now and then under a thin veil of

310 ROB ROY.

humility, and devoid as he was of all the
advantages of a learned education, Mr Jar-
vie's conversation shewed tokens of a shrewd,
observing, liberal, and, to the extent of its
opportunities, a well-improved mind. He
was a good local antiquary, and entertain-
ed me, as we passed along, with an account
of remarkable events which had formerly
taken place in the scenes through which
wre passed. And as he was well acquainted
with the ancient history of his district, he
saw with the prospective eye of an enlight-
ened patriot, the buds of many of those fu-
ture advantages, which have only blossom-
ed and ripened within these few years. I
remarked also, and with great pleasure,
that although a keen Scottishman, and
abundantly zealous for the honour of his
country, he was disposed to think libe-
rally of the sister kingdom. When An-
drew Fairservice (whom, by the way, the
Baillie could not abide,) chose to impute
the accident of one of the horses casting
his shoe to the deteriorating influence of

rob roy. 311

the Union, he incurred a severe rebuke
from Mr Jar vie.

" Whisht, sir ! — whisht ! — it's ill-scrapit
tongues like your's, that make mischief
atween neighbourhoods and nations. There's
naething saergude on this side o' time but
it might hae been better, and that may be
said o' the Union. Nane were keener against
it than the Glasgow folk, wi' their rabblings
and their risings, and their mobs, as they
ca' them now-a-days. But it's an ill wind
blaws naebody gude — Let ilka ane roose
the ford as they find it — I say, Let Glasgow
Flourish, whiHt is judiciously and elegantly
putten around the town's arms, by way of
bye-word. — Now, since St Mungo catched
herrings in the Clyde, what was ever like
to gar us flourish like the sugar and tobac-
co-trade, will ony body tell me that, and
grumble at the treaty that opened us a road
west-awa' yonder ?''

Andrew Fairservice was far from acqui-
escing in these arguments of expedience,
and even ventured to enter a grumbling
protest, " That it was an unco change to

312 ROB ROY.

hae Scotland's laws made in England ; and
that, for his share, he wadna for a' the her-
ring barrels in Glasgow, and a' the tobacco -
casks to boot, hae gien up the riding o' the
Scots parliament, or sent awa' our crown,
and our sword, and our sceptre, and Mons-
meg, to be keepit by thae English pock-
puddings in the Tower o' Lunnon. What
wad Sir William Wallace or auld Davie
Lindsay hae said to the Union, or them
that made it ?"

The road which we travelled, while di-
verting the way with these discussions, had
become wild and open, so soon as we had
left Glasgow a mile or two behind us, and
was growing more dreary as we advanced.
Huge continuous heaths spread before, be-
hind, and around us in hopeless barrenness,
now level and interspersed with swamps,
green with treacherous verdure, or sable
with turf, or, as they call them in Scotland,
peat-bogs, and now swelling into huge
heavy ascents, which wanted the dignity
and form of hills, while they were still

hob roy. 313

more toilsome to the passenger. There
were neither trees nor bushes to relieve the
eye from the russet livery of absolute steri-
lity. The very heath was of that stint-
ed imperfect kind which has little or no
flower, and affords the coarsest and mean-
est covering, which, as far as my experi-
ence enables me to judge, mother Earth is
ever arrayed in. Living thing we saw
none, except occasionally a few straggling
sheep of a strange diversity of colours, as
black, bluish, and orange. The sable hue
predominated, however, in their faces and
legs. The very birds seemed to shun these
wastes, and no wonder, since they had an
easy method of escaping from them ; at
least I only heard the monotonous and
plaintive cries of the lapwing and curlew,
which my companions denominated the
peasweep and whaup.

At dinner, however, which we took about
noon, at a most miserable ale-house, we had
the good fortune to find that these tire-
some screamers of the morass were not the

vol, n. o

314 ROB ROY.

only inhabitants of the moors. The good,
wife told us, that " the gudeman had been
at the hill ;" and well for us that he had so,
for we enjoyed the produce of his chasse in
the shape of some broiled moor game, a
dish which gallantly eked out the ewe-milk
cheese, dried salmon, and oaten bread, be-
ing all beside that the house afforded. Some
very indifferent two-penny ale, and a glass
of excellent brandy, crowned our repast ;
and as our horses had, in the mean time,
discussed their corn, we resumed our jour-
ney with renovated vigour.

I had need of all the spirits a good dinner
could give, to resist the dejection which
crept insensibly on my spirits, when I com-
bined the strange uncertainty of my errand,
with the disconsolate aspect of the country
through which it was leading me. Our
road continued to be, if possible, more
waste and wild than that we had travelled
in the forenoon. The few miserable hovels
that shewed some marks of human habita-
tion, were now of still rarer occurrence j

ROB ROY. 315

and, at length, as we began to ascend a
huge and uninterrupted swell of moorland,
they totally disappeared. The only exer-
cise which my imagination received was,
when some particular turns of the road
gave us a partial view to the left of a large
assemblage of dark-blue mountains stretch-
ing to the north and north-west, which,
promised to include within their recesses,
a country as wild perhaps, but certainly dif-
fering greatly in point of interest, from
that which we now travelled. The peaks
of this screen of mountains were as wildly
varied and distinguished as the hills which
we had seen on the right were tame and
lumpish ; and while I gazed on this Alpine
region, I felt a longing to explore its re-
cesses, though with toil and danger, similar
to that which a sailor feels when he wishes
for the risks and animation of a battle or a
gale, in exchange for the insupportable mo-
notony of a protracted calm. I made va-
rious enquiries at my friend Mr Jarvie, re-
specting the names and positions of these

316 noB roy.

remarkable mountains ; but it was a sub-
ject on which he had no information,
or did not chuse to be communicative.
« They're the Hieland hills— the Hieland
hills — Ye'll see and hear eneugh about them
before ye see Glasgow Cross again — I
downa look at them — I never see them but
they gar me grew — It's no for fear — no
for fear, but just for grief, for the puir
blinded half starved creatures that inhabit
them — But say nae mair about it — it's ill
speaking o' Hielandmen sae near the line. I
hae kenn'd mony an honest man wadna hae
ventured this length without he had made
his last will and testament — Mattie had ill
will to see me set awa' on this ride, and
grat awee the silly tawpie ; but its nae mair
ferlie to see a woman greet than to see a
goose gang bareflt."

I next attempted to lead the discourse
upon the character and history of the per-
son whom we were going to visit ; but
upon this topic Mr Jarvie was totally inac-
cessible, owing perhaps in part to the at-

ROB ROY. 317

tendance of Mr Andrew Fairservice, who
chose tokeep so close in our rear that his ears
could not fail to catch every word which
was spoken, while his tongue assumed the
freedom of mingling in our conversation as
often as he saw an opportunity. For this
he occasionally incurred Mr Jarvie's reproof.
" Keep back, sir, as best sets ye," said
the Baillie, as Andrew pressed forward to
catch the answer to some question I had
asked about Campbell. — " Ye wad fain ride
the fore horse, an' ye wist how — That
chield's aye for being out o' the cheese-fat
he was moulded in.- — Now as for your ques-
tions, MrOsbaldistone, now that chield's out
of ear-shot, I'll just tell ye its free to you to
speer, and its free to me to answer or no —
GudeIcannasaymuckleo'Rob,puirchield,
ill I winna say o' him, for, forbye that he's
my cousin, we're coming near his ain coun-
try, and there may be ane o' his gillies ahint
every whin-bush for what I ken — And if
ye'll be guided by my advice, the less ye
o 2

818 ROB ROY.

speak about him, or where we are gaun, or
what we are gaun to do, we'll be the mair
likely to speed us in our errand. For its
like we may fa' in wi' some o' his unfreends
— they are e'en ower mony o' them about
— and his bonnet sits even on his brow yet
for a' that ; but I doubt they'll be upsides
wi' Rob at the last — air day or late day the
fox's hide finds the flaying knife."

" I will certainly," I replied, " be entire-
ly guided by your experience."

" Right, Mr Osbaldistone — right, — but I
maun speak to this gabbling skyte too, for
bairns and fules speak at the Cross what they
hear at the ingle side. — D'ye hear, you,
Andrew — What's your name — Fairservice."

Andrew7, who at the last rebuff had fallen
a good way behind, did notchuse to acknow-
ledge the summons.

u Andrew, ye scoundrel," repeated Mr
Jarvie, " here, sir ! here !"

" Here is for the dog," said Andrew, co-
ming up sulkily.

" I'll gie you dog's wages, ye rascal, if

ROB ROY. 319

ye dinna attend to what I say t'ye — We
are gaun into the Hielands abit"-

" I judged as muckle," said Andrew.

" Haud your peace, ye knave, and hear
what I have to say till ye — We are gaun
abit into the Hielands"

" Ye tauld me sae already," replied the
incorrigible Andrew.

" I'll break your head," said the Baillie,
rising in wrath, " if ye dinna haud your
tongue."

" A hadden tongue," replied Andrew,
" makes a slabbered mouth."

It wras now necessary I should interfere,
which I did by commanding Andrew, with
an authoritative tone, to be silent at his
peril.

" I am silent," said Andrew. " Pse do
a' your lawfu' bidding without a nay say. —
My puir mither used aye to tell me,

' Be it better, be it worse,

Be ruled by him that has the purse.'

Sae ye may e'en speak as lang as ye like,

320 KOB ROY.

baith the tane and the tither o' you, for
Andrew."

Mr Jarvie took the advantage of his stop-
ping after quoting the above proverb, to
give him the requisite instructions.

" Now, sir, it's as muckle as your life's
worth — that wad be dear o' little siller to
be sure — but it is as muckle as a' our lives
are worth, if ye dinna mind what I say
to ye. In this public whar we are gaun
to, and whar it is like we may hae to stay
a' night, men o' a' clans and kindred —
Hieland and Lawland — tak up their quar-
ters.— And whiles there are mair drawn
dirks than open Bibles amang them when
the usquebaugh gets uppermost. See ye
neither meddle nor mak, nor gie nae offence
wi' that clavering tongue o' yours, but keep
a calm sough, and let ilka cock fight his ain
battle."

" Muckle needs to tell me that," said
Andrew contemptuously, " as if I had ne-
ver seen a Hielandman before, and kenn'd
nae how to manage them. Nae man alive
H

ROB ROY. 321

can cuittle up Donald better than mysell —
I hae bought wi' them, sauld wi' them, eat-
en wi' them, drucken wi' them"

" Did ye ever fight wi' them ?" said Mr
Jarvie.

" Na, na," answered Andrew, u I took
care o' that ; it wad ill hae set me, that am
an artist and half a scholar to my trade, to
be righting amang a wheen kilted loons that
dinna ken the name o' a single herb or
flower in braid Scots, let abe in the Latin
tongue."

" Then," said Mr Jarvie, " as ye wad
keep either your tongue in your mouth,
or your lugs in your head, (and ye might
miss them, for as saucy members as they
are,) I charge ye to say nae word, gude or
bad, that ye can weel get bye, to ony body
that may be in the Clachan. And ye'll spe-
cially understand that ye're no to be blee-
zing and blasting about your master's name
and mine, or saying that this is Mr Baillie
Nicol Jarvie o' the Saut-Market, son o' the
worthy Deacon Nicol Jarvie, that a' body

322 ROB ROY.

has heard about ; and this is Mr Frank Os-
baklistone, son of the managing partner of
the great house of Osbaldistone and Tresh-
am, in the city."

" Aneugh said," answered Andrew —
" aneugh said ! What need ye think I wad
be speaking about your names for ? — I hae
mony things o* mair importance to speak
about, I trow."

" It's thae very things of importance,
that I am feared for, ye blethering goose ;
ye manna speak ony thing, gude or bad,
that ye can by any possibility help."

" If ye dinna think me fit," replied An-
drew in a huff, " to speak like ither folk, gie
me my wages and my board-wages, and I'se
gae back to Glasgow — There's sma' sorrow
at our parting, as the auld mare said to the
broken cart."

Finding Andrew's perverseness again ari-
sing to a point, which threatened to occa-
sion me inconvenience, I was under the
necessity of explaining to him, that he
might return if he thought proper, but that

ROB ROY. 323

in that case I would not pay him a single
farthing for his past services. The argu-
ment ad c?'ume?iam9 as it has been called by
jocular logicians, has weight with the great-
er part of mankind, and Andrew was in
that particular far from affecting any trick
of singularity. He " drew in his horns,"
to use the Baillie's phrase, upon the instant,
professed no intention whatever to dis-
oblige, and a resolution to be guided by
my commands, whatever they might be.

Concord being thus happily restored to
our small party, we continued to pursue
our journey. The road, which had ascended
for six or seven English miles, began now to
descend for about the same space, through
a country which, neither in fertility or in-
terest, could boast any advantage over that
which we had passed already, and which
afforded no variety, unless when some tre-
mendous peak of a Highland mountain ap-
peared at a distance. We continued, how-
ever, to ride on without pause ; and even
when night fell and overshadowed the deso-

324 HOB ROY.

late wilds which we traversed, we were, as I
understood from Mr Jarvie, still three miles
and a bittock distant from the place where
we were to spend the night.

END OF VOLUME SECOND,

Edinburgh :
Printed by James Ballantyne & Co.

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