CHAPTER XII.
WE RIDE TO EDINBURGH.
When my cousin Lochinvar heard what had been done in the matter of thelad, Andrew Herries, his anger burned fiercely within him. He soughtWesterhall on the instant.
"Foul Annandale thief!" he cried, "come out and try the length of thysword on the heather. Down with thee and see if thou canst stand up to aman, thou great stirk. 'Tis easy putting thy wolf's spite on helplessbairns, but this sword-arm shall tickle thy midriff to an unkennedtune."
But Colonel Graham would not let them fight.
"Aroint thee," he said to Lochinvar, "for a young ruffler and spit-fire.Well may they call thee Wullcat. But you shall not decimate my troop, orI must put you in irons, for all those bright eyes which the ladieslove."
Lochinvar turned to him.
"Colonel Graham, did you yourself not say, 'I am guiltless of this poorman's life!' So, at least, I have been informed."
Claverhouse nodded grimly. It was not a weakness he often showed.
"Then why not let me have it out with this bairn-slayer? I had e'engarred the guard o' my sword dirl again his ribs."
In another the boast had seemed like presumption, but so noble a sworderwas Wat Gordon that he but stated a truth. And all that were presentknew it for such.
"Westerhall will be the more grateful to me, in that case," saidClavers, "but hark ye, Lochinvar! there must be no more of this. Yewould reduce the number of his Majesty's forces effective in one way.The Reverend Richard Cameron (with whom Providence send me a good andswift meeting) in another. But in the end it comes to the same thing.Now I opine, it will fit you well to hie to Edinburgh with despatches.And I prithee take your noble and peaceful cousin of Earlstoun withthee. Gin thou canst exchange him there for his brother Sandy, I shallbe the more glad to see thee back."
So in a little Wat Gordon and I (Hugh Kerr and John Scarlet being withus) were riding with Claverhouse's despatches to the Privy Council.
Northward we travelled through infinite rough and unkindly places, vexedever with a bitter wind in our faces. As we passed many of the littlecot houses on the opposite hillsides, we would see a head look suddenlyout upon us. Then the door fell open, and with a rush like wild thingsbreaking from their dens, a father and a son, or such-like, would takethe heather. And once, even, we saw the black coat of a preacher. Butwith never a halt we went on our way, sharp-set to reach Edinburgh.
As we went, Wat Gordon spoke to me of the great ones of the town, andespecially of the Duchess of Wellwood, with whom, as it appeared, he washigh in favour. But whether honestly or no, I had no means of judging.It was passing strange for me, who indeed was too young for such love,even had I been fitted by nature for it--to hear Wat speak of thegallantry of the great ladies of the Court, and of the amorous doings atWhitehall. For I had been strictly brought up--a thing which to this dayI do not regret, for it gives even ill-doing a better relish. But inthese times when there are many new-fangled notions about the upbringingof children and the manner of teaching them, I ever declare I do notknow any better way than that which my father used. Its heads andparticulars were three--the Shorter Catechism for the soul, good oatmealporridge for the inward man--and for the outward, some twigs of thebonny birk, properly applied and that upon the appointed place.
So that to hear of the gay French doings at the Court, which by Wat'stelling were greatly copied in Edinburgh, was to me like beholding thejigging and coupling of puggy monkeys in a cage to make sport for thevulgar.
"The Lord keep me from the like of that!" I cried, when he had told meof a ploy that my Lady Castlemaine and my pretty Mistress Stuart hadcarried through together--the point of which was that these two quipsomedames were wedded, like man and wife, and eke bedded before the Court.
And at this Wat Gordon, who had not much humour at the most of times,turned on me with a quizzical look on his face, saying, "I think you arein no great danger, Cousin William."
Which I took not ill, for at that time I cared not a jot about theappearance of my body, nor for any lady's favour in the land.
When we reached Edinburgh, I went immediately to decent lodgings in theWest Bow, to which I had been directed by my mother; but Walter, sayingthat the West Bow was no fit lodging for a gentleman, went on to settlehimself in one of the fashionable closes off the Lawnmarket.
As soon as we were by ourselves, my man, Hugh Kerr, came to me, andbegan to ask if I knew anything of John Scarlet, the serving man thataccompanied my cousin.
I replied that I knew nothing of him, save that my cousin had past allendurance cried him up to me as a mighty sworder.
"Weel," said Hugh Kerr, "it may be, but it's my opeenion that he is amost mighty leer, an' a great scoundrel forbye."
I asked him why, and at the first go-off he would give me no betteranswer than that he opined that his name was not John Scarlet but JohnVarlet, as better denoting a gentleman of his kidney.
But when I pressed him, he told me that this serving man had told himthat he had committed at least half-a-dozen murders--which he calledslaughters and justified, that he had been at nigh half a hundredkillings in the fields, yet that he could pray like Mr. Kid himself at aSocieties' Meeting, and be a leader among the hill-folk when it seemedgood to him.
"An' the awesome thing o't a' is that the ill deil declared that he hadhalf-a-dizzen wives, and that he could mainteen the richts o' that too.So I reasoned with him, but faith! the scoundrel had the assurance toturn my flank wi' Abraham and the patriarchs. He said that he wadna castup Solomon to me, for he wasna just prepared to uphaud the lengths thatSolomon gaed to i' the maitter o' wives."
But I told Hugh to give his mind no concern about the sayings or doingsof Master John Scarlet or Varlet, for that it was all most likely lies;and if not, neither he nor I was the man's master, to whom alone hestood or fell.
But for all that I could see that Hughie was much dashed by hisencounter with my cousin's follower, for Hughie accounted himself agreat hand at the Scripture. We heard afterwards that John Scarlet hadbeen a sometime follower of Muckle John Gib, and that it was in hiscompany that he learned notions, which is a thing exceedingly likely.But this was before Anton Lennox of the Duchrae took John in hand andsorted him to rights, that day in the moss of the Deer-Slunk betweenLowthian and Lanark.
Then with my cousin's interest to back me, and especially that which hemade with the Duchess of Wellwood, I wore out the winter of the year1679 in petitions and embassies, praying that the estates should not betaken from us, and biding all the time in my lodging in the West Bow. Ihad James Stewart, then in hiding, to make out my pleas, and right ablyhe drew them. It was a strong point in our favour that my father had notbeen killed at Bothwell, but only when advancing in the direction of thecombatants. And besides, I myself had bidden at home, and not ridden outwith the others. As for Sandy, he had not the chance of a lamb in thewolf's maw, having been on the field itself with a troop; so I stood formy own claim, meaning with all my very heart to do right by my elderbrother when the time came--though, indeed, I had but small reason tolove him for his treatment of me. Yet for all that, I shall never saybut what he was a stupid, honest lown enough.
Mayhap if he had been other than my brother, I had loved him better; buthe tortured me as thoughtlessly when I was a weakly lad as if I had beena paddock or a fly, till the instinct of dislike infected my blood. Andafter that there could be no hope of liking, hardly of tolerance. Thisis the reason of most of the feuds among brothers the world over. For itis the fact, though there are few fathers that suspect it, that manyelder brothers make the lives of the youngers a burden too heavy to beborne--which thing, together with marrying of wives, in after yearscertainly works bitterness.
More than anything, it struck me as strange that my cousin Lochinvarcould make merry in the very city--where but a few months before hisfather had been executed and done to death. But Hughie Kerr told me oneevening, when we were going over Glenkens things, how Wat's father hadused him--keeping him at the strap's e
nd. For Wat was ever his mother'sboy, who constantly took his part as he needed it, and made a greatcavalier and King's man of him. This his father tried to prevent anddrive out of him with blows, till the lad fairly hated him and hisCovenants. And so it was as it was. For true religion comes not byviolence, but chiefly, I think, from being brought up with good men,reverencing their ways and words.