CHAPTER SEVENTH.
"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 Quoque._
I remembered the honest Bailie's parting charge, but did not conceivethere was any incivility in adding a kiss to the half-crown with which Iremunerated Mattie's attendance;--nor did her "Fie for shame, sir!"express any very deadly resentment of the affront. Repeated knocking atMrs. Flyter'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-cappedheads, which were thrust out of the neighbouring windows to reprehend mefor disturbing the solemnity of the Sunday night by that untimely noise.While I trembled lest the thunders of their wrath might dissolve inshowers like that of Xantippe, Mrs. Flyter herself awoke, and began, in atone of objurgation not unbecoming the philosophical spouse of Socrates,to scold one or two loiterers in her kitchen, for not hastening to thedoor to prevent a repetition of my noisy summons.
These worthies were, indeed, nearly concerned in the fracas which theirlaziness occasioned, being no other than the faithful Mr. Fairservice,with his friend Mr. Hammorgaw, and another person, whom I afterwardsfound to be the town-crier, who were sitting over a cog of ale, as theycalled it (at my expense, as my bill afterwards informed me), in order todevise the terms and style of a proclamation to be made through thestreets the next day, in order that "the unfortunate young gentleman," asthey had the impudence to qualify me, might be restored to his friendswithout farther delay. It may be supposed that I did not suppress mydispleasure at this impertinent interference with my affairs; but Andrewset up such ejaculations of transport at my arrival, as fairly drowned myexpressions of resentment. His raptures, perchance, were partlypolitical; and the tears of joy which he shed had certainly their sourcein that noble fountain of emotion, the tankard. However, the tumultuousglee which he felt, or pretended to feel, at my return, saved Andrew thebroken head which I had twice destined him;--first, on account of thecolloquy he had held with the precentor on my affairs; and secondly, forthe impertinent history he had thought proper to give of me to Mr.Jarvie. I however contented myself with slapping the door of my bedroomin his face as he followed me, praising Heaven for my safe return, andmixing his joy with admonitions to me to take care how I walked my ownways in future. I then went to bed, resolving my first business in themorning should be to discharge this troublesome, pedantic, self-conceitedcoxcomb, who seemed so much disposed to constitute himself rather apreceptor than a domestic.
Accordingly in the morning I resumed my purpose, and calling Andrew intomy apartment, requested to know his charge for guiding and attending meas 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 hesitation, "wunna think--wunnathink"--
"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, bystating his demand lower than what I might be willing to pay, stoodgasping in the agony of doubt and calculation.
Out it came with a bolt, however, at my threat; as the kind violence of ablow on the back sometimes delivers the windpipe from an intrusivemorsel.--"Aughteen pennies sterling per diem--that is, by the day--yourhonour wadna think unconscionable."
"It is double what is usual, and treble what you merit, Andrew; butthere's a guinea for you, and get about your business."
"The Lord forgi'e us! Is your honour mad?" exclaimed Andrew.
"No; but I think you mean to make me so--I give you a third above yourdemand, and you stand staring and expostulating there as if I werecheating you. Take your money, and go about your business."
"Gude safe us!" continued Andrew, "in what can I hae offended yourhonour? Certainly a' flesh is but as the flowers of the field; but if abed of camomile hath value in medicine, of a surety the use of AndrewFairservice to your honour is nothing less evident--it's as muckle asyour life's worth to part wi' me."
"Upon my honour," replied I, "it is difficult to say whether you are moreknave or fool. So you intend then to remain with me whether I like it orno?"
"Troth, I was e'en thinking sae," replied Andrew, dogmatically; "for ifyour honour disna ken when ye hae a gude servant, I ken when I hae a gudemaster, and the deil be in my feet gin I leave ye--and there's the briefand the lang o't besides I hae received nae regular warning to quit myplace."
"Your place, sir!" said I;--"why, you are no hired servant of mine,--youare merely a guide, whose knowledge of the country I availed myself of onmy road."
"I am no just a common servant, I admit, sir," remonstrated Mr.Fairservice; "but your honour kens I quitted a gude place at an hour'snotice, to comply wi' your honour's solicitations. A man might makehonestly, and wi' a clear conscience, twenty sterling pounds per annum,weel counted siller, o' the garden at Osbaldistone Hall, and I wasnalikely to gi'e up a' that for a guinea, I trow--I reckoned on staying wi'your honour to the term's end at the least o't; and I account my wage,board-wage, fee and bountith,--ay, to that length o't at the least."
"Come, come, sir," replied I, "these impudent pretensions won't serveyour turn; and if I hear any more of them, I shall convince you thatSquire Thorncliff is not the only one of my name that can use hisfingers."
While I spoke thus, the whole matter struck me as so ridiculous, that,though really angry, I had some difficulty to forbear laughing at thegravity with which Andrew supported a plea so utterly extravagant. Therascal, aware of the impression he had made on my muscles, was encouragedto perseverance. He judged it safer, however, to take his pretensions apeg lower, in case of overstraining at the same time both his plea and mypatience.
"Admitting that my honour could part with a faithful servant, that hadserved me 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 myheart, nor in no true gentleman's, to pit a puir lad like himself, thathad come forty or fifty, or say a hundred miles out o' his road purely tobear my honour company, and that had nae handing but his penny-fee, tosic 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 certain things the most gullable and malleable of mortals. Thefact is, that it is only contradiction which makes me peremptory, andwhen I do not feel myself called on to give battle to any proposition, Iam always willing to grant it, rather than give myself much trouble. Iknew this fellow to be a greedy, tiresome, meddling coxcomb; still,however, I must have some one about me in the quality of guide anddomestic, and I was so much used to Andrew's humour, that on someoccasions it was rather amusing. In the state of indecision to whichthese reflections led me, I asked Fairservice if he knew the roads,towns, etc., in the north of Scotland, to which my father's concerns withthe proprietors of Highland forests were likely to lead me. I believe ifI had asked him the road to the terrestrial paradise, he would have atthat moment undertaken to guide me to it; so that I had reason afterwardsto think myself fortunate in finding that his actual knowledge did notfall very much short of that which he asserted himself to possess. Ifixed the amount of his wages, and reserved to myself the privilege ofdismissing him when I chose, on paying him a week in advance. I gave himfinally a severe lecture on his conduct of the preceding day, and thendismissed him rejoicing at heart, though somewhat crestfallen incountenance, to rehearse to his friend the precentor, who was taking hismorning draught in the kitchen, the mode in which he had "cuitled up thedaft young English squire."
Agreeable to appointment, I went next to Bailie Nicol Jarvie's, where acomfortable morning's repast was arranged in the parlour, which served asan apartment of all hours, and almost all work, to that honest gentleman.The bustling and benevolent magistr
ate had been as good as his word. Ifound my friend Owen at liberty, and, conscious of the refreshments andpurification of brush and basin, was of course a very different personfrom Owen a prisoner, squalid, heart-broken, and hopeless. Yet the senseof pecuniary difficulties arising behind, before, and around him, haddepressed his spirit, and the almost paternal embrace which the good mangave me, was embittered by a sigh of the deepest anxiety. And when hesate down, the heaviness in his eye and manner, so different from thequiet composed satisfaction which they usually exhibited, indicated thathe was employing his arithmetic in mentally numbering up the days, thehours, the minutes, which yet remained as an interval between thedishonour of bills and the downfall of the great commercial establishmentof Osbaldistone and Tresham. It was left to me, therefore, to do honourto our landlord's hospitable cheer--to his tea, right from China, whichhe got in a present from some eminent ship's-husband at Wapping--to hiscoffee, from a snug plantation of his own, as he informed us with a wink,called Saltmarket Grove, in the island of Jamaica--to his English toastand ale, his Scotch dried salmon, his Lochfine herrings, and even to thedouble-damask table-cloth, "wrought by no hand, as you may guess," savethat of his deceased father the worthy Deacon Jarvie.
Having conciliated our good-humoured host by those little attentionswhich are great to most men, I endeavoured in my turn to gain from himsome information which might be useful for my guidance, as well as forthe satisfaction of my curiosity. We had not hitherto made the leastallusion to the transactions of the preceding night, a circumstance whichmade my question sound somewhat abrupt, when, without any previousintroduction of the subject, I took advantage of a pause when the historyof the table-cloth ended, and that of the napkins was about to commence,to inquire, "Pray, by the by, Mr. Jarvie, who may this Mr. RobertCampbell be, whom we met with last night?"
The interrogatory seemed to strike the honest magistrate, to use thevulgar phrase, "all of a heap," and instead of answering, he returned thequestion--"Whae's Mr. Robert Campbell?--ahem! ahay! Whae's Mr. RobertCampbell, 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. RobertCampbell, as ye ca' him?"
"I met him by chance," I replied, "some months ago in the north ofEngland."
"Ou then, Mr. Osbaldistone," said the Bailie, doggedly, "ye'll ken asmuckle about him as I do."
"I should suppose not, Mr. Jarvie," I replied;--"you are his relation, itseems, and his friend."
"There is some cousin-red between us, doubtless," said the Bailiereluctantly; "but we hae seen little o' ilk other since Rob gae tip thecattle-line o' dealing, poor fallow! he was hardly guided by them mighthae used him better--and they haena made their plack a bawbee o'tneither. There's mony ane this day wad rather they had never chased puirRobin frae the Cross o' Glasgow--there's mony ane wad rather see himagain at the tale o' three hundred kyloes, than at the head o' thirtywaur 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 Hieland gentleman, nae doubt--betterrank need nane to be;--and for habit, I judge he wears the Hieland habitamang the hills, though he has breeks on when he comes to Glasgow;--andas for his subsistence, what needs we care about his subsistence, saelang as he asks naething frae us, ye ken? But I hae nae time forclavering about him e'en now, because we maun look into your father'sconcerns wi' all speed."
So saying, he put on his spectacles, and sate down to examine Mr. Owen'sstates, which the other thought it most prudent to communicate to himwithout reserve. I knew enough of business to be aware that nothing couldbe more acute and sagacious than the views which Mr. Jarvie entertainedof the matters submitted to his examination; and, to do him justice, itwas marked by much fairness, and even liberality. He scratched his earindeed repeatedly on observing the balance which stood at the debit ofOsbaldistone and Tresham in account with himself personally.
"It may be a dead loss," he observed; "and, conscience! whate'er ane o'your Lombard Street goldsmiths may say to it, it's a snell ane in theSaut-Market* o' Glasgow. It will be a heavy deficit--a staff out o' mybicker, I trow.
* [The Saltmarket. This ancient street, situate in the heart of Glasgow,has of late been almost entirely renovated.]
But what then?--I trust the house wunna coup the crane for a' that's comeand gane yet; and if it does, I'll never bear sae base a mind as thaecorbies in the Gallowgate--an I am to lose by ye, I'se ne'er deny I haewon by ye mony a fair pund sterling--Sae, an it come to the warst, I'seeen lay the head o' the sow to the tail o' the grice."*
* _Anglice,_ the head of the sow to the tail of the pig.
I did not altogether understand the proverbial arrangement with which Mr.Jarvie consoled himself, but I could easily see that he took a kind andfriendly interest in the arrangement of my father's affairs, suggestedseveral expedients, approved several plans proposed by Owen, and by hiscountenance and counsel greatly abated the gloom upon the brow of thatafflicted delegate of my father's establishment.
As I was an idle spectator on this occasion, and, perhaps, as I showedsome inclination more than once to return to the prohibited, andapparently the puzzling subject of Mr. Campbell, Mr. Jarvie dismissed mewith little formality, with an advice to "gang up the gate to thecollege, where I wad find some chields could speak Greek and Latinweel--at least they got plenty o' siller for doing deil haet else, if theydidna do that; and where I might read a spell o' the worthy Mr. ZacharyBoyd's translation o' the Scriptures--better poetry need nane to be, ashe had been tell'd by them that ken'd or suld hae ken'd about sicthings." But he seasoned this dismission with a kind and hospitableinvitation "to come back and take part o' his family-chack at anepreceesely--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'clockpreceesely--it was the hour he and the deacon his father aye dinedat--they pat it off for naething nor for naebody."