Read The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 10 Page 38


  CHAPTER XXVII

  I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR

  The next day it was agreed that Alan should fend for himself tillsunset; but as soon as it began to grow dark, he should lie in thefields by the roadside near to Newhalls, and stir for naught until heheard me whistling. At first I proposed I should give him for a signalthe "Bonnie House of Airlie," which was a favourite of mine; but heobjected that as the piece was very commonly known, any ploughman mightwhistle it by accident; and taught me instead a little fragment of aHighland air, which has run in my head from that day to this, and willlikely run in my head when I lie dying. Every time it comes to me, ittakes me off to that last day of my uncertainty, with Alan sitting up inthe bottom of the den, whistling and beating the measure with a finger,and the grey of the dawn coming on his face.

  I was in the long street of Queensferry before the sun was up. It was afairly built burgh, the houses of good stone, many slated; the town-hallnot so fine, I thought, as that of Peebles, nor yet the street so noble;but, take it altogether, it put me to shame for my foul tatters.

  As the morning went on, and the fires began to be kindled, and thewindows to open, and the people to appear out of the houses, my concernand despondency grew ever the blacker. I saw now that I had no groundsto stand upon; and no clear proof of my rights, nor so much as of my ownidentity. If it was all a bubble, I was indeed sorely cheated and leftin a sore pass. Even if things were as I conceived, it would in alllikelihood take time to establish my contentions; and what time had Ito spare with less than three shillings in my pocket, and a condemned,hunted man upon my hands to ship out of the country? Truly, if my hopebroke with me, it might come to the gallows yet for both of us. And as Icontinued to walk up and down, and saw people looking askance at me uponthe street or out of windows, and nudging or speaking to one anotherwith smiles, I began to take a fresh apprehension: that it might be noeasy matter even to come to speech of the lawyer, far less to convincehim of my story.

  For the life of me I could not muster up the courage to address any ofthese reputable burghers; I thought shame even to speak with them insuch a pickle of rags and dirt; and if I had asked for the house of sucha man as Mr. Rankeillor, I supposed they would have burst out laughingin my face. So I went up and down, and through the street, and down tothe harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strangegnawing in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair. Itgrew to be high day at last, perhaps nine in the forenoon; and I wasworn with these wanderings, and chanced to have stopped in front of avery good house on the landward side, a house with beautiful, clearglass windows, flowering knots upon the sills, the walls new-harled,[33]and a chase-dog sitting yawning on the step like one that was at home.Well, I was even envying this dumb brute, when the door fell open andthere issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, kindly, consequential man in awell-powdered wig and spectacles. I was in such a plight that no one seteyes on me once, but he looked at me again; and this gentleman, as itproved, was so much struck with my poor appearance that he came straightup to me and asked me what I did.

  I told him I was come to the Queen's Ferry on business, and taking heartof grace, asked him to direct me to the house of Mr. Rankeillor.

  "Why," said he, "that is his house that I have just come out of; and,for a rather singular chance, I am that very man."

  "Then, sir," said I, "I have to beg the favour of an interview."

  "I do not know your name," said he, "nor yet your face."

  "My name is David Balfour," said I.

  "David Balfour?" he repeated, in rather a high tone, like one surprised."And where have you come from, Mr. David Balfour?" he asked, looking mepretty drily in the face.

  "I have come from a great many strange places, sir," said I; "but Ithink it would be as well to tell you where and how in a more privatemanner."

  He seemed to muse a while, holding his lip in his hand, and looking nowat me and now upon the causeway of the street.

  "Yes," says he, "that will be the best, no doubt." And he led me backwith him into his house, cried out to some one whom I could not see thathe would be engaged all morning, and brought me into a little dustychamber, full of books and documents. Here he sat down, and bade me beseated; though I thought he looked a little ruefully from his cleanchair to my muddy rags. "And now," says he, "if you have any business,pray be brief and come swiftly to the point. _Nec gemino bellum Trojanumorditur ab ovo_--do you understand that?" says he, with a keen look.

  "I will even do as Horace says, sir," I answered, smiling, "and carryyou in _medias res_." He nodded as if he was well pleased, and indeedhis scrap of Latin had been set to test me. For all that, and though Iwas somewhat encouraged, the blood came in my face when I added: "I havereason to believe myself some rights on the estate of Shaws."

  He got a paper book out of a drawer and set it before him open. "Well?"said he.

  But I had shot my bolt and sat speechless.

  "Come, come, Mr. Balfour," said he, "you must continue. Where were youborn?"

  "In Essendean, sir," said I, "the year 1733, the 12th of March."

  He seemed to follow this statement in his paper book; but what thatmeant I knew not. "Your father and mother?" said he.

  "My father was Alexander Balfour, schoolmaster of that place," said I,"and my mother Grace Pitarrow; I think her people were from Angus."

  "Have you any papers proving your identity?" asked Mr. Rankeillor.

  "No, sir," said I, "but they are in the hands of Mr. Campbell, theminister, and could be readily produced. Mr. Campbell, too, would giveme his word; and, for that matter, I do not think my uncle would denyme."

  "Meaning Mr. Ebenezer Balfour?" says he.

  "The same," said I.

  "Whom you have seen?" he asked.

  "By whom I was received into his own house," I answered.

  "Did you ever meet a man of the name of Hoseason?" asked Mr. Rankeillor.

  "I did so, sir, for my sins," said I; "for it was by his means and theprocurement of my uncle, that I was kidnapped within sight of this town,carried to sea, suffered shipwreck and a hundred other hardships, andstand before you to-day in this poor accoutrement."

  "You say you were shipwrecked," said Rankeillor; "where was that?"

  "Off the south end of the Isle of Mull," said I. "The name of the isleon which I was cast up is the Island Earraid."

  "Ah!" says he, smiling, "you are deeper than me in the geography. But sofar, I may tell you, this agrees pretty exactly with other informationsthat I hold. But you say you were kidnapped; in what sense?"

  "In the plain meaning of the word, sir," said I. "I was on my way toyour house, when I was trepanned on board the brig, cruelly struckdown, thrown below, and knew no more of anything till we were far atsea. I was destined for the plantations; a fate that, in God'sprovidence, I have escaped."

  "The brig was lost on June the 27th," says he, looking in his book, "andwe are now at August the 24th. Here is a considerable hiatus, Mr.Balfour, of near upon two months. It has already caused a vast amount oftrouble to your friends; and I own I shall not be very well contenteduntil it is set right."

  "Indeed, sir," said I, "these months are very easily filled up; but yetbefore I told my story, I would be glad to know that I was talking to afriend."

  "This is to argue in a circle," said the lawyer. "I cannot be convincedtill I have heard you. I cannot be your friend till I am properlyinformed. If you were more trustful, it would better befit your time oflife. And you know, Mr. Balfour, we have a proverb in the country thatevil-doers are aye evil-dreaders."

  "You are not to forget, sir," said I, "that I have already suffered bymy trustfulness; and was shipped off to be a slave by the very man that(if I rightly understand) is your employer."

  All this while I had been gaining ground with Mr. Rankeillor, and, inproportion as I gained ground, gaining confidence. But at this sally,which I made with something of a smile myself, he fairly laughed aloud.

  "No, no," said he, "it is not so
bad as that. _Fui, non sum_. I _was_indeed your uncle's man of business; but while you (_imberbis juveniscustode remoto_) were gallivanting in the west, a good deal of water hasrun under the bridges; and, if your ears did not sing, it was not forlack of being talked about. On the very day of your sea disaster, Mr.Campbell stalked into my office, demanding you from all the winds. I hadnever heard of your existence; but I had known your father; and frommatters in my competence (to be touched upon hereafter) I was disposedto fear the worst. Mr. Ebenezer admitted having seen you; declared(what seemed improbable) that he had given you considerable sums; andthat you had started for the continent of Europe, intending to fulfilyour education, which was probable and praiseworthy. Interrogated howyou had come to send no word to Mr. Campbell, he deponed that you hadexpressed a great desire to break with your past life. Furtherinterrogated where you now were, protested ignorance, but believed youwere in Leyden. That is a close sum of his replies. I am not exactlysure that any one believed him," continued Mr. Rankeillor, with a smile;"and in particular he so much disrelished some expressions of mine that(in a word) he showed me to the door. We were then at a full stand; for,whatever shrewd suspicions we might entertain, we had no shadow ofprobation. In the very article, comes Captain Hoseason with the story ofyour drowning; whereupon all fell through; with no consequences butconcern to Mr. Campbell, injury to my pocket, and another blot upon youruncle's character, which could very ill afford it. And now, Mr.Balfour," said he, "you understand the whole process of these matters,and can judge for yourself to what extent I may be trusted."

  Indeed, he was more pedantic than I can represent him, and placed morescraps of Latin in his speech; but it was all uttered with a finegeniality of eye and manner which went far to conquer my distrust.Moreover, I could see he now treated me as if I was myself beyond adoubt; so that first point of my identity seemed fully granted.

  "Sir," said I, "if I tell you my story, I must commit a friend's life toyour discretion. Pass me your word it shall be sacred; and for whattouches myself I will ask no better guarantee than just your face."

  He passed me his word very seriously. "But," said he, "these are ratheralarming prolocutions; and if there are in your story any little jostlesto the law, I would beg you to bear in mind that I am a lawyer, and passlightly."

  Thereupon I told him my story from the first, he listening with hisspectacles thrust up and his eyes closed, so that I sometimes feared hewas asleep. But no such matter! he heard every word (as I foundafterward) with such quickness of hearing and precision of memory asoften surprised me. Even strange outlandish Gaelic names, heard for thattime only, he remembered, and would remind me of, years after. Yet whenI called Alan Breck in full, we had an odd scene. The name of Alan hadof course rung through Scotland, with the news of the Appin murder andthe offer of the reward; and it had no sooner escaped me than the lawyermoved in his seat and opened his eyes.

  "I would name no unnecessary names, Mr. Balfour," said he; "above all ofHighlanders, many of whom are obnoxious to the law."

  "Well, it might have been better not," said I, "but, since I have let itslip, I may as well continue."

  "Not at all," said Mr. Rankeillor. "I am somewhat dull of hearing, asyou may have remarked; and I am far from sure I caught the name exactly.We will call your friend, if you please, Mr. Thomson--that there may beno reflections. And in future, I would take some such way with anyHighlander that you may have to mention--dead or alive."

  By this I saw he must have heard the name all too clearly, and hadalready guessed I might be coming to the murder. If he chose to playthis part of ignorance, it was no matter of mine; so I smiled, said itwas no very Highland-sounding name, and consented. Through all the restof my story Alan was Mr. Thomson; which amused me the more, as it was apiece of policy after his own heart. James Stewart, in like manner, wasmentioned under the style of Mr. Thomson's kinsman; Colin Campbellpassed as a Mr. Glen; and to Cluny, when I came to that part of my tale,I gave the name of "Mr. Jameson, a Highland chief." It was truly themost open farce, and I wondered that the lawyer should care to keep itup; but, after all, it was quite in the taste of that age, when therewere two parties in the State, and quiet persons, with no very highopinions of their own, sought out every cranny to avoid offence toeither.

  "Well, well," said the lawyer, when I had quite done, "this is a greatepic, a great Odyssey of yours. You must tell it, sir, in a soundLatinity when your scholarship is riper; or in English if you please,though for my part I prefer the stronger tongue. You have rolled much;_quae regio in terris_--what parish in Scotland (to make a homelytranslation) has not been filled with your wanderings? You have shown,besides, a singular aptitude for getting into false positions; and, yes,upon the whole, for behaving well in them. This Mr. Thomson seems to mea gentleman of some choice qualities, though perhaps a triflebloody-minded. It would please me none the worse, if (with all hismerits) he were soused in the North Sea, for the man, Mr. David, is asore embarrassment. But you are doubtless quite right to adhere to him;indubitably he adhered to you. _It comes_--we may say--he was your truecompanion; nor less _paribus curis vestigia figit_, for I daresay youwould both take an orra thought upon the gallows. Well, well, these daysare fortunately by; and I think (speaking humanly) that you are near theend of your troubles."

  As he thus moralised on my adventures, he looked upon me with so muchhumour and benignity that I could scarce contain my satisfaction. I hadbeen so long wandering with lawless people, and making my bed upon thehills and under the bare sky, that to sit once more in a clean, coveredhouse, and to talk amicably with a gentleman in broadcloth, seemedmighty elevations. Even as I thought so, my eye fell on my unseemlytatters, and I was once more plunged in confusion. But the lawyer sawand understood me. He rose, called over the stair to lay another plate,for Mr. Balfour would stay to dinner, and led me into a bedroom in theupper part of the house. Here he set before me water and soap, and acomb; and laid out some clothes that belonged to his son; and here, withanother apposite tag, he left me to my toilet.

  FOOTNOTE:

  [33] Newly rough-cast.