Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (classic romance novels txt) 📗

willingly contribute to the quenching of thy natural thirst; but I fear it were no such easy matter to relieve thy acquired and artificial drought.’

‘That is to say, in plain terms, ye are for withdrawing your caution with the folk of the house? You Quaker folk are but fause comforters; but since ye have garred me drink sae muckle cauld yill—me that am no used to the like of it in the forenoon—I think ye might as weel have offered me a glass of brandy or usquabae—I’m nae nice body—I can drink onything that’s wet and toothsome.’

‘Not a drop at my cost, friend,’ quoth Geddes. ‘Thou art an old man, and hast perchance a heavy and long journey before thee. Thou art, moreover, my countryman, as I judge from thy tongue; and I will not give thee the means of dishonouring thy grey hairs in a strange land.’

‘Grey hairs, neighbour!’ said Peter, with a wink to the bystanders, whom this dialogue began to interest, and who were in hopes of seeing the Quaker played off by the crazed beggar, for such Peter Peebles appeared to be. ‘Grey hairs! The Lord mend your eyesight, neighbour, that disna ken grey hairs frae a tow wig!’

This jest procured a shout of laughter, and, what was still more acceptable than dry applause, a man who stood beside called out, ‘Father Crackenthorp, bring a nipperkin of brandy. I’ll bestow a dram on this fellow, were it but for that very word.’

The brandy was immediately brought by a wench who acted as barmaid; and Peter, with a grin of delight, filled a glass, quaffed it off, and then saying, ‘God bless me! I was so unmannerly as not to drink to ye—I think the Quaker has smitten me wi’ his ill-bred havings,’—he was about to fill another, when his hand was arrested by his new friend; who said at the same time, ‘No, no, friend—fair play’s a jewel—time about, if you please.’ And filling a glass for himself, emptied it as gallantly as Peter could have done. ‘What say you to that, friend?’ he continued, addressing the Quaker.

‘Nay, friend,’ answered Joshua, ‘it went down thy throat, not mine; and I have nothing to say about what concerns me not; but if thou art a man of humanity, thou wilt not give this poor creature the means of debauchery. Bethink thee that they will spurn him from the door, as they would do a houseless and masterless dog, and that he may die on the sands or on the common. And if he has through thy means been rendered incapable of helping himself, thou shalt not be innocent of his blood.’

‘Faith, Broadbrim, I believe thou art right, and the old gentleman in the flaxen jazy shall have no more of the comforter. Besides, we have business in hand to-day, and this fellow, for as mad as he looks, may have a nose on his face after all. Hark ye, father,—what is your name, and what brings you into such an out-of-the-way corner?’

‘I am not just free to condescend on my name,’ said Peter; ‘and as for my business—there is a wee dribble of brandy in the stoup—it would be wrang to leave it to the lass—it is learning her bad usages.’

‘Well, thou shalt have the brandy, and be d—d to thee, if thou wilt tell me what you are making here.’

‘Seeking a young advocate chap that they ca’ Alan Fairford, that has played me a slippery trick, and ye maun ken a’ about the cause,’ said Peter.

‘An advocate, man!’ answered the captain of the JUMPING JENNY—for it was he, and no other, who had taken compassion on Peter’s drought; ‘why, Lord help thee, thou art on the wrong side of the Firth to seek advocates, whom I take to be Scottish lawyers, not English.’

‘English lawyers, man!’ exclaimed Peter, ‘the deil a lawyer’s in a’ England.’

‘I wish from my soul it were true,’ said Ewart; ‘but what the devil put that in your head?’

‘Lord, man, I got a grip of ane of their attorneys in Carlisle, and he tauld me that there wasna a lawyer in England ony mair than himsell that kend the nature of a multiple-poinding! And when I told him how this loopy lad, Alan Fairford, had served me, he said I might bring an action on the case—just as if the case hadna as mony actions already as one case can weel carry. By my word, it is a gude case, and muckle has it borne, in its day, of various procedure—but it’s the barley-pickle breaks the naig’s back, and wi’ my consent it shall not hae ony mair burden laid upon it.’

‘But this Alan Fairford?’ said Nanty—‘come—sip up the drop of brandy, man, and tell me some more about him, and whether you are seeking him for good or for harm.’

‘For my ain gude, and for his harm, to be sure,’ said Peter. ‘Think of his having left my cause in the dead-thraw between the tyneing and the winning, and capering off into Cumberland here, after a wild loup-the-tether lad they ca’ Darsie Latimer.’

‘Darsie Latimer!’ said Mr. Geddes, hastily; ‘do you know anything of Darsie Latimer?’

‘Maybe I do, and maybe I do not,’ answered Peter; ‘I am no free to answer every body’s interrogatory, unless it is put judicially, and by form of law—specially where folk think so much of a caup of sour yill, or a thimblefu’ of brandy. But as for this gentleman, that has shown himself a gentleman at breakfast, and will show himself a gentleman at the meridian, I am free to condescend upon any points in the cause that may appear to bear upon the question at issue.’

‘Why, all I want to know from you, my friend, is, whether you are seeking to do this Mr. Alan Fairford good or harm; because if you come to do him good, I think you could maybe get speech of him—and if to do him harm, I will take the liberty to give you a cast across the Firth, with fair warning not to come back on such an errand, lest worse come of it.’

The manner and language of Ewart were such that Joshua Geddes resolved to keep cautious silence, till he could more plainly discover whether he was likely to aid or impede him in his researches after Darsie Latimer. He therefore determined to listen attentively to what should pass between Peter and the seaman, and to watch for an opportunity of questioning the former, so soon as he should be separated from his new acquaintance.

‘I wad by no means,’ said Peter Peebles, ‘do any substantial harm to the poor lad Fairford, who has had mony a gowd guinea of mine, as weel as his father before him; but I wad hae him brought back to the minding of my business and his ain; and maybe I wadna insist further in my action of damages against him, than for refunding the fees, and for some annual rent on the principal sum due frae the day on which he should have recovered it for me, plack and bawbee, at the great advising; for ye are aware, that is the least that I can ask NOMINE DAMNI; and I have nae thought to break down the lad bodily a’thegither—we maun live and let live—forgie and forget.’

‘The deuce take me, friend Broadbrim,’ said Nanty Ewart, looking to the Quaker, ‘if I can make out what this old scarecrow means. If