The Antiquary — Complete by Walter Scott (best fiction novels to read TXT) 📖

ither cantrip. Now, ye see, if I had said mair or less to Bailie Littlejohn, I behoved till hae come out wi’ a’ this story; and vexed would Mr. Lovel hae been to have it brought to light—sae I thought I would stand to onything rather than that.”

“I must say he has chosen his confidant well,” said Oldbuck, “though somewhat strangely.”

“I’ll say this for mysell, Monkbarns,” answered the mendicant, “that I am the fittest man in the haill country to trust wi’ siller, for I neither want it, nor wish for it, nor could use it if I had it. But the lad hadna muckle choice in the matter, for he thought he was leaving the country for ever (I trust he’s mistaen in that though); and the night was set in when we learned, by a strange chance, Sir Arthur’s sair distress, and Lovel was obliged to be on board as the day dawned. But five nights afterwards the brig stood into the bay, and I met the boat by appointment, and we buried the treasure where ye fand it.”

“This was a very romantic, foolish exploit,” said Oldbuck: “why not trust me, or any other friend?”

“The blood o’ your sister’s son,” replied Edie, “was on his hands, and him maybe dead outright—what time had he to take counsel?—or how could he ask it of you, by onybody?”

“You are right. But what if Dousterswivel had come before you?”

“There was little fear o’ his coming there without Sir Arthur: he had gotten a sair gliff the night afore, and never intended to look near the place again, unless he had been brought there sting and ling. He ken’d weel the first pose was o’ his ain hiding, and how could he expect a second? He just havered on about it to make the mair o’ Sir Arthur.”

“Then how,” said Oldbuck, “should Sir Arthur have come there unless the German had brought him?”

“Umph!” answered Edie drily. “I had a story about Misticot wad hae brought him forty miles, or you either. Besides, it was to be thought he would be for visiting the place he fand the first siller in—he ken’d na the secret o’ that job. In short, the siller being in this shape, Sir Arthur in utter difficulties, and Lovel determined he should never ken the hand that helped him,—for that was what he insisted maist upon,—we couldna think o’ a better way to fling the gear in his gate, though we simmered it and wintered it e’er sae lang. And if by ony queer mischance Doustercivil had got his claws on’t, I was instantly to hae informed you or the Sheriff o’ the haill story.”

“Well, notwithstanding all these wise precautions, I think your contrivance succeeded better than such a clumsy one deserved, Edie. But how the deuce came Lovel by such a mass of silver ingots?”

“That’s just what I canna tell ye—But they were put on board wi’ his things at Fairport, it’s like, and we stowed them into ane o’ the ammunition-boxes o’ the brig, baith for concealment and convenience of carriage.”

“Lord!” said Oldbuck, his recollection recurring to the earlier part of his acquaintance with Lovel; “and this young fellow, who was putting hundreds on so strange a hazard, I must be recommending a subscription to him, and paying his bill at the Ferry! I never will pay any person’s bill again, that’s certain.—And you kept up a constant correspondence with Lovel, I suppose?”

“I just gat ae bit scrape o’ a pen frae him, to say there wad, as yesterday fell, be a packet at Tannonburgh, wi’ letters o’ great consequence to the Knockwinnock folk; for they jaloused the opening of our letters at Fairport—And that’s a’s true; I hear Mrs. Mailsetter is to lose her office for looking after other folk’s business and neglecting her ain.”

“And what do you expect now, Edie, for being the adviser, and messenger, and guard, and confidential person in all these matters?”

“Deil haet do I expect—excepting that a’ the gentles will come to the gaberlunzie’s burial; and maybe ye’ll carry the head yoursell, as ye did puir Steenie Mucklebackit’s.—What trouble was’t to me? I was ganging about at ony rate—Oh, but I was blythe when I got out of Prison, though; for I thought, what if that weary letter should come when I am closed up here like an oyster, and a’ should gang wrang for want o’t? and whiles I thought I maun mak a clean breast and tell you a’ about it; but then I couldna weel do that without contravening Mr. Lovel’s positive orders; and I reckon he had to see somebody at Edinburgh afore he could do what he wussed to do for Sir Arthur and his family.”

“Well, and to your public news, Edie—So they are still coming are they?”

“Troth they say sae, sir; and there’s come down strict orders for the forces and volunteers to be alert; and there’s a clever young officer to come here forthwith, to look at our means o’ defence—I saw the Bailies lass cleaning his belts and white breeks—I gae her a hand, for ye maun think she wasna ower clever at it, and sae I gat a’ the news for my pains.”

“And what think you, as an old soldier?”

“Troth I kenna—an they come so mony as they speak o’, they’ll be odds against us. But there’s mony yauld chields amang thae volunteers; and I mauna say muckle about them that’s no weel and no very able, because I am something that gate mysell—But we’se do our best.”

“What! so your martial spirit is rising again, Edie?

Even in our ashes glow their wonted fires!

I would not have thought you, Edie, had so much to fight for?”

“Me no muckle to fight for, sir?—isna there the country to fight for, and the burnsides that I gang daundering beside, and the hearths o’the gudewives that gie me my bit bread, and the bits o’ weans that come toddling to play wi’ me when I come about a landward town?—Deil!” he continued, grasping his pike-staff with great emphasis, “an I had as gude pith as I hae gude-will, and a gude cause, I should gie some o’ them a day’s kemping.”

“Bravo, bravo, Edie! The country’s in little ultimate danger, when the beggar’s as ready to fight for his dish as the laird for his land.”

Their further conversation reverted to the particulars of the night passed by the mendicant and Lovel in the ruins of St. Ruth; by the details of which the Antiquary was highly amused.

“I would have given a guinea,” he said, “to have seen the scoundrelly German under the agonies of those terrors, which it is part of his own quackery to inspire into others; and trembling alternately for the fury of his patron, and the apparition of some hobgoblin.”

“Troth,” said the beggar, “there was time for him to be cowed; for ye wad hae thought the very spirit of Hell-in-Harness had taken possession o’ the body o’ Sir Arthur. But what will come o’ the land-louper?”

“I have had a letter this morning, from which I understand he has acquitted you of the charge he brought against you, and offers to make such discoveries