Redgauntlet: A Tale Of The Eighteenth Century

  CHAPTER VIII

  LATIMER'S JOURNAL, IN CONTINUATION

  I spent more than an hour, after returning to the apartment which I maycall my prison, in reducing to writing the singular circumstances whichI had just witnessed. Methought I could now form some guess at thecharacter of Mr. Herries, upon whose name and situation the latescene had thrown considerable light--one of those fanatical Jacobites,doubtless, whose arms, not twenty years since, had shaken the Britishthrone, and some of whom, though their party daily diminished innumbers, energy, and power, retained still an inclination to renew theattempt they had found so desperate. He was indeed perfectly differentfrom the sort of zealous Jacobites whom it had been my luck hitherto tomeet with. Old ladies of family over their hyson, and grey-haired lairdsover their punch, I had often heard utter a little harmless treason;while the former remembered having led down a dance with the Chevalier,and the latter recounted the feats they had performed at Preston,Clifton, and Falkirk.

  The disaffection of such persons was too unimportant to excite theattention of government. I had heard, however, that there stillexisted partisans of the Stuart family of a more daring and dangerousdescription; men who, furnished with gold from Rome, moved, secretly andin disguise, through the various classes of society, and endeavoured tokeep alive the expiring zeal of their party.

  I had no difficulty in assigning an important post among this class ofpersons, whose agency and exertion are only doubted by those who lookon the surface of things, to this Mr. Herries, whose mental energies, aswell as his personal strength and activity, seemed to qualify himwell to act so dangerous a part; and I knew that all along the WesternBorder, both in England and Scotland, there are so many nonjurors, thatsuch a person may reside there with absolute safety, unless it becomes,in a very especial degree, the object of the government to secure hisperson; and which purpose, even then, might be disappointed by earlyintelligence, or, as in the case of Mr. Foxley, by the unwillingnessof provincial magistrates to interfere in what is now considered aninvidious pursuit of the unfortunate.

  There have, however, been rumours lately, as if the present state of thenation or at least of some discontented provinces, agitated by avariety of causes but particularly by the unpopularity of the presentadministration, may seem to this species of agitators a favourableperiod for recommencing their intrigues; while, on the other hand,government may not, at such a crisis, be inclined to look upon themwith the contempt which a few years ago would have been their mostappropriate punishment.

  That men should be found rash enough to throw away their services andlives in a desperate cause, is nothing new in history, which aboundswith instances of similar devotion--that Mr. Herries is such anenthusiast is no less evident; but all this explains not his conducttowards me. Had he sought to make me a proselyte to his ruined cause,violence and compulsion were arguments very unlikely to prevail with anygenerous spirit. But even if such were his object, of what use to himcould be the acquisition of a single reluctant partisan, who could bringonly his own person to support any quarrel which he might adopt? He hadclaimed over me the rights of a guardian; he had more than hinted thatI was in a state of mind which could not dispense with the authority ofsuch a person. Was this man, so sternly desperate in his purpose--hewho seemed willing to take on his own shoulders the entire support ofa cause which had been ruinous to thousands--was he the person that hadthe power of deciding on my fate? Was it from him those dangers flowed,to secure me against which I had been educated under such circumstancesof secrecy and precaution?

  And if this was so, of what nature was the claim which he asserted?--Wasit that of propinquity? And did I share the blood, perhaps the features,of this singular being?--Strange as it may seem, a thrill of awe, whichshot across my mind at that instant, was not unmingled with a wild andmysterious feeling of wonder, almost amounting to pleasure. I rememberedthe reflection of my own face in the mirror at one striking momentduring the singular interview of the day, and I hastened to the outwardapartment to consult a glass which hung there, whether it were possiblefor my countenance to be again contorted into the peculiar frown whichso much resembled the terrific look of Herries. But I folded my browsin vain into a thousand complicated wrinkles, and I was obliged toconclude, either that the supposed mark on my brow was altogetherimaginary, or that it could not be called forth by voluntary effort; or,in fine, what seemed most likely, that it was such a resemblance as theimagination traces in the embers of a wood fire, or among the variedveins of marble, distinct at one time, and obscure or invisible atanother, according as the combination of lines strikes the eye orimpresses the fancy.

  While I was moulding my visage like a mad player, the door suddenlyopened, and the girl of the house entered. Angry and ashamed at beingdetected in my singular occupation, I turned round sharply, and, Isuppose, chance produced the change on my features which I had been invain labouring to call forth.

  The girl started back, with her 'Don't ya look so now--don't ye, forlove's sake--you be as like the ould squoire as--But here a comes,' shesaid, huddling away out of the room; 'and if you want a third, there isnone but ould Harry, as I know of, that can match ye for a brent broo!'

  As the girl muttered this exclamation, and hastened out of the room,Herries entered. He stopped on observing that I had looked again to themirror, anxious to trace the look by which the wench had undoubtedlybeen terrified. He seemed to guess what was passing in my mind, for, asI turned towards him, he observed, 'Doubt not that it is stamped on yourforehead--the fatal mark of our race; though it is not now so apparentas it will become when age and sorrow, and the traces of stormy passionsand of bitter penitence, shall have drawn their furrows on your brow.'

  'Mysterious man,' I replied, 'I know not of what you speak; yourlanguage is as dark as your purposes!'

  'Sit down, then,' he said, 'and listen; thus far, at least, must theveil of which you complain be raised. When withdrawn, it will onlydisplay guilt and sorrow--guilt followed by strange penalty, and sorrowwhich Providence has entailed upon the posterity of the mourners.'

  He paused a moment, and commenced his narrative, which he told with theair of one, who, remote as the events were which he recited, tookstill the deepest interest in them. The tone of his voice, which I havealready described as rich and powerful, aided by its inflections theeffects of his story, which I will endeavour to write down, as nearly aspossible, in the very words which he used.

  'It was not of late years that the English learned that their bestchance of conquering their independent neighbours must be by introducingamongst them division and civil war. You need not be reminded of thestate of thraldom to which Scotland was reduced by the unhappy warsbetwixt the domestic factions of Bruce and Baliol, nor how, afterScotland had been emancipated from a foreign yoke by the conduct andvalour of the immortal Bruce, the whole fruits of the triumphs ofBannockburn were lost in the dreadful defeats of Dupplin and Halidon;and Edward Baliol, the minion and feudatory of his namesake of England,seemed, for a brief season, in safe and uncontested possession of thethrone so lately occupied by the greatest general and wisest prince inEurope. But the experience of Bruce had not died with him. Therewere many who had shared his martial labours, and all remembered thesuccessful efforts by which, under circumstances as disadvantageous asthose of his son, he had achieved the liberation of Scotland.

  'The usurper, Edward Baliol, was feasting with a few of his favouriteretainers in the castle of Annan, when he was suddenly surprised by achosen band of insurgent patriots. Their chiefs were, Douglas, Randolph,the young Earl of Moray, and Sir Simon Fraser; and their success was socomplete, that Baliol was obliged to fly for his life scarcelyclothed, and on a horse which there was no leisure to saddle. It was ofimportance to seize his person, if possible, and his flight was closelypursued by a valiant knight of Norman descent, whose family had beenlong settled in the marches of Dumfriesshire. Their Norman appellationwas Fitz-Aldin, but this knight, from the great slaughter which he hadmade of the Southron, and the
reluctance which he had shown to admitthem to quarter during the former war of that bloody period, hadacquired the name of Redgauntlet, which he transmitted to hisposterity'--

  'Redgauntlet!' I involuntarily repeated.

  'Yes, Redgauntlet,' said my alleged guardian, looking at me keenly;'does that name recall any associations to your mind?'

  'No,' I replied, 'except that I had lately heard it given to the hero ofa supernatural legend.'

  'There are many such current concerning the family,' he answered; andthen proceeded in his narrative.

  'Alberick Redgauntlet, the first of his house so termed, was, as may besupposed from his name, of a stern and implacable disposition, whichhad been rendered more so by family discord. An only son, now a youthof eighteen, shared so much the haughty spirit of his father, that hebecame impatient of domestic control, resisted paternal authority, andfinally fled from his father's house, renounced his political opinions,and awakened his mortal displeasure by joining the adherents of Baliol.It was said that his father cursed, in his wrath, his degenerateoffspring, and swore that if they met he should perish by his hand.Meantime, circumstances seemed to promise atonement for this greatdeprivation. The lady of Alberick Redgauntlet was again, after manyyears, in a situation which afforded her husband the hope of a moredutiful heir.

  'But the delicacy and deep interest of his wife's condition did notprevent Alberick from engaging in the undertaking of Douglas and Moray.He had been the most forward in the attack of the castle, and was nowforemost in the pursuit of Baliol, eagerly engaged in dispersing orcutting down the few daring followers who endeavoured to protect theusurper in his flight.

  'As these were successively routed or slain, the formidable Redgauntlet,the mortal enemy of the House of Baliol, was within two lances' lengthof the fugitive Edward Baliol, in a narrow pass, when a youth, one ofthe last who attended the usurper in his flight, threw himselfbetween them, received the shock of the pursuer, and was unhorsed andoverthrown. The helmet rolled from his head, and the beams of the sun,then rising over the Solway, showed Redgauntlet the features of hisdisobedient son, in the livery, and wearing the cognizance, of theusurper.

  'Redgauntlet beheld his son lying before his horse's feet; but he alsosaw Baliol, the usurper of the Scottish crown, still, as it seemed,within his grasp, and separated from him only by the prostrate body ofhis overthrown adherent. Without pausing to inquire whether young Edwardwas wounded, he dashed his spurs into his horse, meaning to leap overhim, but was unhappily frustrated in his purpose. The steed made indeeda bound forward, but was unable to clear the body of the youth, andwith its hind foot struck him in the forehead, as he was in the act ofrising. The blow was mortal. It is needless to add, that the pursuit waschecked, and Baliol escaped.

  'Redgauntlet, ferocious as he is described, was yet overwhelmed with thethoughts of the crime he had committed. When he returned to his castle,it was to encounter new domestic sorrows. His wife had been prematurelyseized with the pangs of labour upon hearing the dreadful catastrophewhich had taken place. The birth of an infant boy cost her her life.Redgauntlet sat by her corpse for more than twenty-four hours withoutchanging either feature or posture, so far as his terrified domesticscould observe. The Abbot of Dundrennan preached consolation to him invain. Douglas, who came to visit in his affliction a patriot of suchdistinguished zeal, was more successful in rousing his attention. Hecaused the trumpets to sound an English point of war in the courtyard,and Redgauntlet at once sprang to his arms, and seemed restored to therecollection which had been lost in the extent of his misery.

  'From that moment, whatever he might feel inwardly, he gave way to nooutward emotion. Douglas caused his infant to be brought; but even theiron-hearted soldiers were struck with horror to observe that, by themysterious law of nature, the cause of his mother's death, and theevidence of his father's guilt, was stamped on the innocent face of thebabe, whose brow was distinctly marked by the miniature resemblance of ahorseshoe. Redgauntlet himself pointed it out to Douglas, saying, with aghastly smile, "It should have been bloody."

  'Moved, as he was, to compassion for his brother-in-arms, and steeledagainst all softer feelings by the habits of civil war, Douglasshuddered at this sight, and displayed a desire to leave the house whichwas doomed to be the scene of such horrors. As his parting advice, heexhorted Alberick Redgauntlet to make a pilgrimage to Saint Ninian's ofWhiteherne, then esteemed a shrine of great sanctity; and departed witha precipitation which might have aggravated, had that been possible,the forlorn state of his unhappy friend. But that seems to have beenincapable of admitting any addition. Sir Alberick caused the bodiesof his slaughtered son and the mother to be laid side by side in theancient chapel of his house, after he had used the skill of a celebratedsurgeon of that time to embalm them; and it was said that for many weekshe spent; some hours nightly in the vault where they reposed.

  'At length he undertook the proposed pilgrimage to Whiteherne, wherehe confessed himself for the first time since his misfortune, and wasshrived by an aged monk, who afterwards died in the odour of sanctity.It is said that it was then foretold to the Redgauntlet, that on accountof his unshaken patriotism his family should continue to be powerfulamid the changes of future times; but that, in detestation of hisunrelenting cruelty to his own issue, Heaven had decreed that the valourof his race should always be fruitless, and that the cause which theyespoused should never prosper.

  'Submitting to such penance as was there imposed, Sir Alberick went,it is thought, on a pilgrimage either to Rome, or to the Holy Sepulchreitself. He was universally considered as dead; and it was not tillthirteen years afterwards, that in the great battle of Durham, foughtbetween David Bruce and Queen Philippa of England, a knight, bearinga horseshoe for his crest, appeared in the van of the Scottish army,distinguishing himself by his reckless and desperate valour; who beingat length overpowered and slain, was finally discovered to be the braveand unhappy Sir Alberick Redgauntlet.'

  'And has the fatal sign,' said I, when Herries had ended his narrative,'descended on all the posterity of this unhappy house?'

  'It has been so handed down from antiquity, and is still believed,' saidHerries. 'But perhaps there is, in the popular evidence, something ofthat fancy which creates what it sees. Certainly, as other families havepeculiarities by which they are distinguished, this of Redgauntlet ismarked in most individuals by a singular indenture of the forehead,supposed to be derived from the son of Alberick, their ancestor, andbrother to the unfortunate Edward, who had perished in so piteous amanner. It is certain there seems to have been a fate upon the House ofRedgauntlet, which has been on the losing side in almost all the civilbroils which have divided the kingdom of Scotland from David Bruce'sdays, till the late valiant and unsuccessful attempt of the ChevalierCharles Edward.'

  He concluded with a deep sigh, as one whom the subject had involved in atrain of painful reflections.

  'And am I then,' I exclaimed, 'descended from this unhappy race? Do youbelong to it? And if so, why do I sustain restraint and hard usage atthe hands of a relation?'

  'Inquire no further for the present,' he said. 'The line of conductwhich I am pursuing towards you is dictated, not by choice but bynecessity. You were withdrawn from the bosom of your family and thecare of your legal guardian, by the timidity and ignorance of a dotingmother, who was incapable of estimating the arguments or feelings ofthose who prefer honour and principle to fortune, and even to life. Theyoung hawk, accustomed only to the fostering care of its dam, must betamed by darkness and sleeplessness, ere it is trusted on the wing forthe purposes of the falconer.'

  I was appalled at this declaration, which seemed to threaten a longcontinuance, and a dangerous termination, of my captivity. I deemed itbest, however, to show some spirit, and at the same time to mingle atone of conciliation. 'Mr. Herries,' I said '(if I call you rightly bythat name), let us speak upon this matter without the tone of mysteryand fear in which you seem inclined to envelop it. I have been long,alas! deprived of the care of t
hat affectionate mother to whom youallude--long under the charge of strangers--and compelled to form myown resolutions upon the reasoning of my own mind. Misfortune--earlydeprivation--has given me the privilege of acting for myself; andconstraint shall not deprive me of an Englishman's best privilege.'

  'The true cant of the day,' said Herries, in a tone of scorn. 'Theprivilege of free action belongs to no mortal--we are tied down bythe fetters of duty--our mortal path is limited by the regulationsof honour--our most indifferent actions are but meshes of the web ofdestiny by which we are all surrounded.'

  He paced the room rapidly, and proceeded in a tone of enthusiasmwhich, joined to some other parts of his conduct, seems to intimate anover-excited imagination, were it not contradicted by the general tenorof his speech and conduct.

  'Nothing,' he said, in an earnest yet melancholy voice--'nothing is thework of chance--nothing is the consequence of free-will--the liberty ofwhich the Englishman boasts gives as little real freedom to its owner asthe despotism, of an Eastern sultan permits to his slave. The usurper,William of Nassau, went forth to hunt, and thought, doubtless, that itwas by an act of his own royal pleasure that the horse of his murderedvictim was prepared for his kingly sport. But Heaven had other views;and before the sun was high, a stumble of that very animal over anobstacle so inconsiderable as a mole-hillock, cost the haughty riderhis life and his usurped crown, Do you think an inclination of the reincould have avoided that trifling impediment? I tell you, it crossed hisway as inevitably as all the long chain of Caucasus could have done.Yes, young man, in doing and suffering, we play but the part allotted byDestiny, the manager of this strange drama, stand bound to act no morethan is prescribed, to say no more than is set down for us; and yet wemouth about free-will and freedom of thought and action, as if Richardmust not die, or Richmond conquer, exactly where the Author has decreedit shall be so!'

  He continued to pace the room after this speech, with folded arms anddowncast looks; and the sound of his steps and tone of his voice broughtto my remembrance, that I had heard this singular person, when I met himon a former occasion, uttering such soliloquies in his solitary chamber.I observed that, like other Jacobites, in his inveteracy against thememory of King William, he had adopted the party opinion, that themonarch, on the day he had his fatal accident, rode upon a horse oncethe property of the unfortunate Sir John Friend, executed for hightreason in 1698.

  It was not my business to aggravate, but, if possible, rather to soothehim in whose power I was so singularly placed. When I conceived that thekeenness of his feelings had in some degree subsided, I answered himas follows:--'I will not--indeed I feel myself incompetent to arguea question of such metaphysical subtlety, as that which involves thelimits betwixt free-will and predestination. Let us hope we may livehonestly and die hopefully, without being obliged to form a decidedopinion upon a point so far beyond our comprehension.'

  'Wisely resolved,' he interrupted, with a sneer--'there came a note fromsome Geneva, sermon.'

  'But,' I proceeded, 'I call your attention to the fact that I, as wellas you, am acted upon by impulses, the result either of my own freewill, or the consequences of the part which is assigned to me bydestiny. These may be--nay, at present they are--in direct contradictionto those by which you are actuated; and how shall we decide whichshall have precedence?--YOU perhaps feel yourself destined to act as myjailer. I feel myself, on the contrary, destined to attempt and effectmy escape. One of us must be wrong, but who can say which errs till theevent has decided betwixt us?'

  'I shall feel myself destined to have recourse to severe modes ofrestraint,' said he, in the same tone of half jest, half earnest which Ihad used.

  'In that case,' I answered, 'it will be my destiny to attempt everythingfor my freedom.'

  'And it may be mine, young man,' he replied, in a deep and stern tone,'to take care that you should rather die than attain your purpose.'

  This was speaking out indeed, and I did not allow him to go unanswered.'You threaten me in vain,' said I; 'the laws of my country will protectme; or whom they cannot protect, they will avenge.'

  I spoke this firmly, and he seemed for a moment silenced; and the scornwith which he at last answered me, had something of affectation in it.

  'The laws!' he said; 'and what, stripling, do you know of the laws ofyour country? Could you learn jurisprudence under a base-born blotterof parchment, such as Saunders Fairford; or from the empty pedanticcoxcomb, his son, who now, forsooth, writer himself advocate? WhenScotland was herself, and had her own king and legislature, suchplebeian cubs, instead of being called to the bar of her supreme courts,would scarce have been admitted to the honour of bearing a sheepskinprocess-bag.'

  Alan, I could not bear this, but answered indignantly, that he knew notthe worth and honour from which he was detracting.

  'I know as much of these Fairfords as I do of you,' he replied.

  'As much,' said I, 'and as little; for you can neither estimate theirreal worth nor mine. I know you saw them when last in Edinburgh.'

  'Ha!' he exclaimed, and turned on me an inquisitive look.

  'It is true,' said I; 'you cannot deny it; and having thus shown youthat I know something of your motions, let me warn you I have modes ofcommunication with which you are not acquainted. Oblige me not to usethem to your prejudice.'

  'Prejudice me!' he replied. 'Young man, I smile at, and forgive yourfolly. Nay, I will tell you that of which you are not aware, namely,that it was from letters received from these Fairfords that I firstsuspected, what the result of my visit to them confirmed, that you werethe person whom I had sought for years.'

  'If you learned this,' said I, 'from the papers which were about myperson on the night when I was under the necessity of becoming yourguest at Brokenburn, I do not envy your indifference to the means ofacquiring information. It was dishonourable to'--

  'Peace, young man,' said Herries, more calmly than I might haveexpected; 'the word dishonour must not be mentioned as in conjunctionwith my name. Your pocket-book was in the pocket of your coat, and didnot escape the curiosity of another, though it would have been sacredfrom mine, My servant, Cristal Nixon, brought me the intelligence afteryou were gone. I was displeased with the manner in which he had acquiredhis information; but it was not the less my duty to ascertain its truth,and for that purpose I went to Edinburgh. I was in hopes to persuadeMr. Fairford to have entered into my views; but I found him too muchprejudiced to permit me to trust him. He is a wretched, yet a timidslave of the present government, under which our unhappy country isdishonourably enthralled; and it would have been altogether unfit andunsafe to have entrusted him with the secret either of the right whichI possess to direct your actions, or of the manner in which I purpose toexercise it.'

  I was determined to take advantage of his communicative humour, andobtain, if possible, more light upon his purpose. He seemed mostaccessible to being piqued on the point of honour, and I resolved toavail myself, but with caution, of his sensibility upon that topic. 'Yousay,' I replied, 'that you are not friendly to indirect practices, anddisapprove of the means by which your domestic obtained informationof my name and quality--Is it honourable to avail yourself of thatknowledge which is dishonourably obtained?'

  'It is boldly asked,' he replied; 'but, within certain necessarylimits, I dislike not boldness of expostulation. You have, in this shortconference, displayed more character and energy than I was prepared toexpect. You will, I trust, resemble a forest plant, which has indeed,by some accident, been brought up in the greenhouse, and thus rendereddelicate and effeminate, but which regains its native firmness andtenacity when exposed for a season to the winter air. I will answeryour question plainly. In business, as in war, spies and informers arenecessary evils, which all good men detest; but which yet all prudentmen must use, unless they mean to fight and act blindfold. But nothingcan justify the use of falsehood and treachery in our own person.'

  'You said to the elder Mr. Fairford,' continued I, with the sameboldness, which I
began to find was my best game, 'that I was the son ofRalph Latimer of Langcote Hall? How do you reconcile this with your lateassertion that my name is not Latimer?'

  He coloured as he replied, 'The doting old fool lied; or perhaps mistookmy meaning. I said, that gentleman might be your father. To say truth,I wished you to visit England, your native country; because, when youmight do so, my rights over you would revive.'

  This speech fully led me to understand a caution which had been oftenimpressed upon me, that, if I regarded my safety, I should not crossthe southern Border; and I cursed my own folly, which kept me flutteringlike a moth around the candle, until I was betrayed into the calamitywith which I had dallied. 'What are those rights,' I said, 'which youclaim over me? To what end do you propose to turn them?'

  'To a weighty one, you may be certain,' answered Mr. Herries; 'but I donot, at present, mean to communicate to you either its nature or extent.You may judge of its importance, when, in order entirely to possessmyself of your person, I condescended to mix myself with the fellows whodestroyed the fishing station of yon wretched Quaker. That I held him incontempt, and was displeased at the greedy devices with which he ruineda manly sport, is true enough; but, unless as it favoured my designs onyou, he might have, for me, maintained his stake-nets till Solway shouldcease to ebb and flow.'

  'Alas!' I said, 'it doubles my regret to have been the unwilling causeof misfortune to an honest and friendly man.'

  'Do not grieve for that,' said Herries; 'honest Joshua is one ofthose who, by dint of long prayers, can possess themselves of widow'shouses--he will quickly repair his losses. When he sustains any mishap,he and the other canters set it down as a debt against Heaven, and, byway of set-off, practise rogueries without compunction, till the theymake the balance even, or incline it to the winning side. Enough of thisfor the present.--I must immediately shift my quarters; for, although Ido not fear the over-zeal of Mr. Justice Foxley or his clerk willlead them to any extreme measure, yet that mad scoundrel's unhappyrecognition of me may make it more serious for them to connive at me,and I must not put their patience to an over severe trial. You mustprepare to attend me, either as a captive or a companion; if as thelatter, you must give your parole of honour to attempt no escape. Shouldyou be so ill advised as to break your word once pledged, be assuredthat I will blow your brains out without a moment's scruple.'

  'I am ignorant of your plans and purposes,' I replied, 'and cannot buthold them dangerous. I do not mean to aggravate my present situation byany unavailing resistance to the superior force which detains me; butI will not renounce the right of asserting my natural freedom should itfavourable opportunity occur. I will, therefore, rather be your prisonerthan your confederate.'

  'That is spoken fairly,' he said; 'and yet not without the canny cautionof one brought up in the Gude Town of Edinburgh. On my part, I willimpose no unnecessary hardship upon you; but, on the contrary, yourjourney shall be made as easy as is consistent with your being keptsafely. Do you feel strong enough to ride on horseback as yet, or wouldyou prefer a carriage? The former mode of travelling is best adapted tothe country through which we are to travel, but you are at liberty tochoose between them.'

  I said, 'I felt my strength gradually returning, and that I should muchprefer travelling on horseback. A carriage,' I added, 'is so close'--

  'And so easily guarded,' replied Herries, with a look as if he wouldhave penetrated my very thoughts,--'that, doubtless, you think horsebackbetter calculated for an escape.'

  'My thoughts are my own,' I answered; 'and though you keep my personprisoner, these are beyond your control.'

  'Oh, I can read the book,' he said, 'without opening the leaves. But Iwould recommend to you to make no rash attempt, and it will be mycare to see that you have no power to make any that is likely tobe effectual. Linen, and all other necessaries for one in yourcircumstances, are amply provided, Cristal Nixon will act as yourvalet,--I should rather, perhaps, say, your FEMME DE CHAMBRE. Yourtravelling dress you may perhaps consider as singular; but it is suchas the circumstances require; and, if you object to use the articlesprepared for your use, your mode of journeying will be as personallyunpleasant as that which conducted you hither.--Adieu--We now know eachother better than we did--it will not be my fault if the consequences offurther intimacy be not a more favourable mutual opinion.'

  He then left me, with a civil good night, to my own reflections,and only turned back to say that we should proceed on our journeyat daybreak next morning, at furthest; perhaps earlier, he said; butcomplimented me by supposing that, as I was a sportsman, I must alwaysbe ready for a sudden start.

  We are then at issue, this singular man and myself. His personal viewsare to a certain point explained. He has chosen an antiquated anddesperate line of politics, and he claims, from some pretended tie ofguardianship or relationship, which he does not deign to explain butwhich he seems to have been able to pass current on a silly countryJustice and his knavish clerk, a right to direct and to control mymotions. The danger which awaited me in England, and which I might haveescaped had I remained in Scotland, was doubtless occasioned by theauthority of this man. But what my poor mother might fear for me as achild--what my English friend, Samuel Griffiths, endeavoured to guardagainst during my youth and nonage, is now, it seems, come upon me;and, under a legal pretext, I am detained in what must be a most illegalmanner, by a person, foe, whose own political immunities have beenforfeited by his conduct. It matters not--my mind is made up neitherpersuasion nor threats shall force me into the desperate designs whichthis man meditates. Whether I am of the trifling consequence which mylife hitherto seems to intimate, or whether I have (as would appear frommy adversary's conduct) such importance, by birth or fortune, as maymake me a desirable acquisition to a political faction, my resolutionis taken in either case. Those who read this journal, if it shall beperused by impartial eyes, shall judge of me truly; and if they considerme as a fool in encountering danger unnecessarily, they shall have noreason to believe me a coward or a turncoat, when I find myself engagedin it. I have been bred in sentiments of attachment to the family on thethrone and in these sentiments I will live and die. I have, indeed, someidea that Mr. Herries has already discovered that I am made of differentand more unmalleable metal than he had at first believed. There wereletters from my dear Alan Fairford, giving a ludicrous account of myinstability of temper, in the same pocket-book, which, according to theadmission of my pretended guardian, fell under the investigation ofhis domestic during the night I passed at Brokenburn, where, as I nowrecollect, my wet clothes, with the contents of my pockets, were, withthe thoughtlessness of a young traveller, committed too rashly to thecare of a strange servant. And my kind friend and hospitable landlord,Mr. Alexander Fairford, may also, and with justice, have spoken of mylevities to this man. But he shall find he has made a false estimateupon these plausible grounds, since--

  I must break off for the present.