Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (books for students to read .txt) 📖

‘We must have our explanation over,’ said Saunders Fairford to himself. ‘Better a finger off, as ay wagging;’ and going to the door of his son’s apartment, he knocked at first gently—then more loudly—but received no answer. Somewhat alarmed at this silence, he opened the door of the chamber it was empty—clothes lay mixed in confusion with the law-books and papers, as if the inmate had been engaged in hastily packing for a journey. As Mr. Fairford looked around in alarm, his eye was arrested by a sealed letter lying upon his son’s writing-table, and addressed to himself. It contained the following words:—

‘MY DEAREST FATHER, ‘You will not, I trust, be surprised, nor perhaps very much displeased, to learn that I am on my way to Dumfriesshire, to learn, by my own personal investigation, the present state of my dear friend, and afford him such relief as may be in my power, and which, I trust, will be effectual. I do not presume to reflect upon you, dearest sir, for concealing from me information of so much consequence to my peace of mind and happiness; but I hope your having done so will be, if not an excuse, at least some mitigation of my present offence, in taking a step of consequence without consulting your pleasure; and, I must further own, under circumstances which perhaps might lead to your disapprobation of my purpose. I can only say, in further apology, that if anything unhappy, which Heaven forbid! shall have occurred to the person who, next to yourself, is dearest to me in this world, I shall have on my heart, as a subject of eternal regret, that being in a certain degree warned of his danger and furnished with the means of obviating it, I did not instantly hasten to his assistance, but preferred giving my attention to the business of this unlucky morning. No view of personal distinction, nothing, indeed, short of your earnest and often expressed wishes, could have detained me in town till this day; and having made this sacrifice to filial duty, I trust you will hold me excused if I now obey the calls of friendship and humanity. Do not be in the least anxious on my account; I shall know, I trust, how to conduct myself with due caution in any emergence which may occur, otherwise my legal studies for so many years have been to little purpose. I am fully provided with money, and also with arms, in case of need; but you may rely on my prudence in avoiding all occasions of using the latter, short of the last necessity. God almighty bless you, my dearest father! and grant that you may forgive the first, and, I trust, the last act approaching towards premeditated disobedience, of which I either have now, or shall hereafter have, to accuse myself. I remain, till death, your dutiful and affectionate son, ALAN FAIRFORD.’

‘PS.—I shall write with the utmost regularity, acquainting you with my motions, and requesting your advice. I trust my stay will be very short, and I think it possible that I may bring back Darsie along with me.’

‘The paper dropped from the old man’s hand when he was thus assured of the misfortune which he apprehended. His first idea was to get a postchaise and pursue the fugitive; but he recollected that, upon the very rare occasions when Alan had shown himself indocile to the PATRIA POTESTAS, his natural ease and gentleness of disposition seemed hardened into obstinacy, and that now, entitled, as arrived at the years of majority and a member of the learned faculty, to direct his own motions, there was great doubt, whether, in the event of his overtaking his son, he might be able to prevail upon him to return back. In such a risk of failure he thought it wiser to desist from his purpose, especially as even his success in such a pursuit would give a ridiculous ECLAT to the whole affair, which could not be otherwise than prejudicial to his son’s rising character.

Bitter, however, were Saunders Fairford’s reflections, as again picking up the fatal scroll, he threw himself into his son’s leathern easy-chair, and bestowed upon it a disjointed commentary, ‘Bring back Darsie? little doubt of that—the bad shilling is sure enough to come back again. I wish Darsie no worse ill than that he were carried where the silly fool, Alan, should never see him again. It was an ill hour that he darkened my doors in, for, ever since that, Alan has given up his ain old-fashioned mother-wit for the tother’s capernoited maggots and nonsense. Provided with money? you must have more than I know of, then, my friend, for I trow I kept you pretty short, for your own good. Can he have gotten more fees? or, does he think five guineas has neither beginning nor end? Arms! What would he do with arms, or what would any man do with them that is not a regular soldier under government, or else a thief-taker? I have had enough of arms, I trow, although I carried them for King George and the government. But this is a worse strait than Falkirk field yet. God guide us, we are poor inconsistent creatures! To think the lad should have made so able an appearance, and then bolted off this gate, after a glaiket ne’er-do-weel, like a hound upon a false scent! Las-a-day! it’s a sore thing to see a stunkard cow kick down the pail when it’s reaming fou. But, after all, it’s an ill bird that defiles its ain nest. I must cover up the scandal as well as I can. What’s the matter now, James?’

‘A message, sir,’ said James Wilkinson, ‘from my Lord President; and he hopes Mr. Alan is not seriously indisposed.’

‘From the Lord President? the Lord preserve us!—I’ll send an answer this instant; bid the lad sit down, and ask him to drink, James. Let me see,’ continued he, taking a sheet of gilt paper ‘how we are to draw our answers.’

Ere his pen had touched the paper, James was in the room again.

‘What now, James?’

‘Lord Bladderskate’s lad is come to ask how Mr. Alan is, as he left; the court’—

‘Aye, aye, aye,’ answered Saunders, bitterly; ‘he has e’en made a moonlight flitting, like my lord’s ain nevoy.’

‘Shall I say sae, sir?’ said James, who, as an old soldier, was literal in all things touching the service.

‘The devil! no, no!—Bid the lad sit down and taste our ale. I will write his lordship an answer.’

Once more the gilt paper was resumed, and once more the door was opened by James.

‘Lord ——— sends his servitor to ask after Mr. Alan.’

‘Oh, the deevil take their civility!’ said poor Saunders, set him down to drink too—I will write to his lordship.’

‘The lads will bide your pleasure, sir, as lang as I keep the bicker fou; but this ringing is like to wear out the bell, I think; there are they at it again.’

He answered the fresh summons accordingly, and came back to inform Mr. Fairford that the Dean of Faculty was below, inquiring for Mr. Alan. ‘Will I set him down to drink, too?’ said James.

‘Will you be an idiot, sir?’ said Mr. Fairford. ‘Show Mr. Dean into the parlour.’

In going slowly downstairs, step by step, the perplexed man of business had time enough to reflect, that if it be possible to put a fair gloss upon a true story, the verity always serves the purpose better than any substitute which ingenuity can devise. He therefore told his learned visitor, that although