Red Cap Tales Part 31

As though all the tin pots on a tinker's wagon had been jolted and jangled, the bells of St. Giles's steeple in Edinburgh town, had just told the hour of noon. It was the time for the Queensferry diligence (which is to say, omnibus) to set out for the pa.s.sage of the Firth, if it were to catch the tide of that day, and connect with the boat which sets pa.s.sengers from the capital upon the sh.o.r.es of Fife.

A young man had been waiting some time. An old one had just bustled up.

"Deil's in it!" cried the latter, with a glance at the dial of the church clock, "I am late, after all!"

But the young man, saluting, informed him that, instead of being late, he was early--so far, that is, as the coach was concerned. It had not yet appeared upon the stand. This information first relieved the mind of the old gentleman, and then, after a moment or two, began (no difficult matter) to arouse his anger.

"Good woman! good woman!" he cried down one of the area stairs, common in the old town of Edinburgh. Then he added in a lower tone, "Doited old hag! she's deaf as a post. I say, Mrs. Macleuchar!"

But Mrs. Macleuchar, the proprietress of the Queensferry diligence, was in no hurry to face the wrath of the public. She served her customer quietly in the shop below, ascended the stairs, and when at last on the level of the street, she looked about, wiped her spectacles as if a mote upon them might have caused her to overlook so minute an object as an omnibus, and exclaimed, "Did ever anybody see the like o' this?"

"Yes, you abominable woman," cried the traveller, "many have seen the like before, and all will yet see the like again, that have aught to do with your trolloping s.e.x!"

And walking up and down the pavement in front of Mrs. Macleuchar's booth, he delivered a volley of abuse each time he came in front of it, much as a battleship fires a broadside as she pa.s.ses a hostile fortress, till the good woman was quite overwhelmed.

"Oh! man! man!" she cried, "take back your three shillings and make me quit o' ye!"

"Not so fast--not so fast," her enemy went on; "will three shillings take me to Queensferry according to your deceitful programme? Or will it pay my charges there, if, by your fault, I should be compelled to tarry there a day for want of tide? Will it even hire me a pinnace, for which the regular price is five shillings?"

But at that very moment the carriage lumbered up, and the two travellers were carried off, the elder of them still leaning out of the window and shouting reproaches at the erring Mrs. Macleuchar.

The slow pace of the broken-down horses, and the need to replace a shoe at a wayside smithy, still further delayed the progress of the vehicle, and when they arrived at Queensferry, the elder traveller, Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck by name, saw at once, by the expanse of wet sand and the number of the black glistening rocks visible along the sh.o.r.e, that the time of tide was long past.

But he was less angry than his young companion, Mr. Lovel, had been led to expect from the scolding he had bestowed upon Mrs. Macleuchar in the city. On the way the two had discovered a kindred taste for antique literature and the remains of the past, upon which last Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck was willing to discourse, as the saying is, till all was blue.

The Hawes Inn sat (and still sits) close by the wash of the tides which scour the Firth of Forth on its southern side. It was then an old-fashioned hostelry, overgrown on one side with ivy, and with the woods of Barnbogle growing close down behind it. The host was very willing to provide dinner and shelter for the two guests, and, indeed, there was a suspicion that Mr. Mackitchinson of the Hawes was in league with Mrs. Macleuchar of the Tron, and that this fact went far to explain the frequent late appearance of the coach with "the three yellow wheels and a black one" belonging to that lady, upon the High Street of Edinburgh.

At the Hawes Inn, therefore, the time of waiting before dinner was sufficient for young Mr. Lovel to step out and discover who his amusing and irascible companion of voyage might be. At South Queensferry every one knew Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns. Bred a lawyer, he had never practised, being ever more interested in the antiquities of his native country than in sitting in an office among legal doc.u.ments and quill pens. The death of his brother had made him heir to all his father's property, and in due time he had settled comfortably down to country life and Roman inscriptions at the family seat of Monkbarns, near by to the town of Fairport, the very town to which Mr. Lovel was at that moment making his way.

Mr. Oldbuck, though equally anxious, was unable to discover anything about his travelling companion. He had, however, discussed the elder dramatists with him, and found him so strong in the subject, that his mind, always searching for the reasons of things, promptly set the young man down as an actor travelling to Fairport, to fulfil an engagement at the theatre there.

"Yes," he said to himself, "Lovel and Belville--these are just the names which youngsters are apt to a.s.sume on such occasions--on my life I am sorry for the lad!"

It was this thought which made Mr. Oldbuck, though naturally and of habit very careful of his sixpences, slip round to the back of the Hawes Inn and settle the bill with the landlord. It was this which made him propose to pay two-thirds of the post-chaise which was to carry them across to Fairport, when at last they set foot on the northern side of the Firth. Arrived at their destination, Mr. Oldbuck recommended Lovel to the care of a decent widow, and so left him with many friendly expressions, in order to proceed to his own house of Monkbarns.

But no Mr. Lovel appeared on the boards of the theatre at Fairport. On the contrary, not even the town gossips, who, having no business of their own to attend to, take charge of other people's, could find out anything about him. Furthermore they could say no evil. The Sheriff called upon him, but the stranger had evidently fully satisfied the man of law, for on his return home he sent him an invitation to dinner, which was, however, civilly declined. He paid his bills and meddled with no one. All which being reported, more or less faithfully, to the proprietor of Monkbarns, caused the young man to rise in his estimation, as one who had too much good sense to trouble himself with the "bodies"

of Fairport.

It was five days before Lovel made his way out to the House of Monkbarns to pay his respects. The mansion had once on a time been the storehouse of the vanished Abbey. There the monks had stored the meal which the people dwelling on their lands brought to them instead of rent. Lovel found it a rambling, hither-and-thither old house, with tall hedges of yew all about it. These last were cut into arm-chairs, crowing c.o.c.ks, and St. Georges in the act of slaying many dragons, all green and terrible. But one great yew had been left untouched by the shears, and under it Lovel found his late fellow-traveller sitting, spectacles on nose, reading the _London Chronicle_.

The old gentleman immediately rose to welcome his guest, and having taken him indoors, he guided him with some difficulty to the "den," as he called his study. Here Mr. Oldbuck found his niece in company with a serving-maid, both in the midst of a thick cloud of dust, endeavouring to reduce the place to some order and cleanliness.

The Antiquary instantly exploded, as is the manner of all book-lovers when their "things" are disarranged.

"How dare you, or Jenny either, presume to meddle with my private affairs? Go sew your sampler, you monkey, and do not let me find you here again as you value your ears--"

"Why, uncle," said the girl, who still stood her ground, "your room was not fit to be seen, and I just came to see that Jenny laid everything down where she took it up."

In the midst of a second discharge of great guns the young lady made her escape, with a half-humorous courtesy to Lovel. It was, indeed, some time before the young man could see, through the dense clouds of dust (which, as the Antiquary said, had been ancient and peaceful enough only an hour ago) the chamber of Mr. Oldbuck, full of great books, littered with ancient maps, engravings, sc.r.a.ps of parchment, old armour, broadswords, and Highland targets.

In the midst of all crouched a huge black cat, glaring steadily with great yellow eyes out of the murky confusion, like the familiar spirit of this wizard's den.

So, after showing Lovel many of his most valuable antiquities, and in especial his treasured books, Mr. Oldbuck gladly led the way into the open air. He would take his visitor, he said, to the Kaim of Kinprunes.

It was on his own land, he affirmed, and not very far away. Arrived at a little barren eminence, the Antiquary demanded of his friend what he saw.

"A very fine view!" said Lovel, promptly.

But this was not the response for which the proud owner was waiting. He went on to ask Lovel if he did not see anything remarkable on the surface of the ground.

"Why, yes," said Lovel, readily, "I do see something like a ditch, indistinctly marked."

At this, however, the Antiquary was most indignant.

"Indistinct!" he cried, "why, the indistinctness must be in your own eyes. It was clear even to that light-headed la.s.sie, my niece, at the first glance. Here on this very Kaim of Kinprunes was fought out the final conflict between Agricola and the Caledonians! The record says--let me remind you--'in sight of the Grampian Hills.' Yonder they are! _In conspectu cla.s.sis_,--'in sight of the fleet,'--and where will you find a finer bay than that on your right hand? From this very fortification, doubtless, Agrippa looked down on the immense army of Caledonians occupying the slopes of the opposite hill, the infantry rising rank over rank, the cavalry and charioteers scouring the more level s.p.a.ce below. From this very _praetorium_--"

But a voice from behind interrupted the Antiquary's poetic description, for his voice had mounted almost into a kind of ecstasy.

"_Praetorian here--Praetorian there--I mind the bigging o't!_"

Both at once turned round, Lovel surprised, and the Antiquary both surprised and angry. An old man in a huge slouched hat, a long white grizzled beard, weather-beaten features of the colour of brick-dust, a long blue gown with a pewter badge on the right arm, stood gazing at them. In short, it was Edie Ochiltree, the King's Blue-Gownsman, which is to say, privileged beggar.

"What is that ye say, Edie?" demanded Oldbuck, thinking that his ears must have deceived him.

"About this bit bower, Monkbarns," said the undaunted Edie, "I mind the biggin' (building) o' it!"

"The deil ye do!" said the Antiquary with scorn in his voice; "why, you old fool, it was here before ye were born, and will be here after ye are hanged."

"Hanged or drowned, alive or dead," said Edie, sticking to his guns, "I mind the biggin' o't!"

"You--you--you," stammered the Antiquary, between confusion and anger, "you strolling old vagabond, what ken ye about it?"

"Oh, I ken just this about it, Monkbarns," he answered, "and what profit have I in telling ye a lie? It was just some mason-lads and me, with maybe two or three herds, that set to work and built this bit thing here that ye call the praetorian, to be a shelter for us in a sore time of rain, at auld Aiken Drum's bridal. And look ye, Monkbarns, dig down, and ye will find a stone (if ye have not found it already) with the shape of a spoon and the letters A.D.L.L. on it--that is to say Aiken Drum's Lang Ladle."

The Antiquary blushed crimson with anger and mortification. For indoors he had just been showing that identical stone to Lovel as his chiefest treasure, and had interpreted the ladle as a Roman sacrificing vessel, and the letters upon it as a grave Latin inscription, carved by Agrippa himself to celebrate his victory.

Lovel was inclined to be amused by the old beggar's demolishing of all the Antiquary's learned theories, but he was speedily brought to himself by Edie Ochiltree's next words.

"That young gentleman, too, I can see, thinks little o' an auld carle like me, yet I'll wager I could tell him where he was last night in the gloaming, only maybe he would not like to have it spoken of in company!"

It was now Lovel's turn to blush, which he did with the vivid crimson of two-and-twenty.

"Never mind the old rogue," said Mr. Oldbuck, "and don't think that I think any the worse of you for your profession. They are only prejudiced fools and c.o.xcombs who do that."

For, in spite of Lovel's interest in ancient history, it still remained in the Antiquary's mind that his young friend must be an actor by profession.

But to this Lovel paid no attention. He was engaged in making sure of Edie's silence by the simple method of pa.s.sing a crown-piece out of his own pocket into the Blue-Gown's hand; while Monkbarns, equally willing to bridle his tongue as to the building of the praetorian, was sending him down to the mansion house for something to eat and a bottle of ale thereto.