CHAPTER FIFTH.

  Look round thee, young Astolpho: Here's the place Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in; Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease. Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench, Doth Hope's fair torch expire; and at the snuff, Ere yet 'tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and way-ward, The desperate revelries of wild despair, Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds That the poor captive would have died ere practised, Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition. The Prison, _Scene III. Act I._

  At my first entrance I turned an eager glance towards my conductor; butthe lamp in the vestibule was too low in flame to give my curiosity anysatisfaction by affording a distinct perusal of his features. As theturnkey held the light in his hand, the beams fell more full on his ownscarce less interesting figure. He was a wild shock-headed lookinganimal, whose profusion of red hair covered and obscured his features,which were otherwise only characterised by the extravagant joy thataffected him at the sight of my guide. In my experience I have metnothing so absolutely resembling my idea of a very uncouth, wild, andugly savage, adoring the idol of his tribe. He grinned, he shivered, helaughed, he was near crying, if he did not actually cry. He had a "Whereshall I go?--What can I do for you?" expression of face; the complete,surrendered, and anxious subservience and devotion of which it isdifficult to describe, otherwise than by the awkward combination which Ihave attempted. The fellow's voice seemed choking in his ecstasy, andonly could express itself in such interjections as "Oigh! oigh!--Ay!ay!--it's lang since she's seen ye!" and other exclamations equally brief,expressed in the same unknown tongue in which he had communicated with myconductor while we were on the outside of the jail door. My guidereceived all this excess of joyful gratulation much like a prince tooearly accustomed to the homage of those around him to be much moved byit, yet willing to requite it by the usual forms of royal courtesy. Heextended his hand graciously towards the turnkey, with a civil inquiry of"How's a' wi' you, Dougal?"

  "Oigh! oigh!" exclaimed Dougal, softening the sharp exclamations of hissurprise as he looked around with an eye of watchful alarm--"Oigh! to seeyou here--to see you here!--Oigh!--what will come o' ye gin the bailiessuld come to get witting--ta filthy, gutty hallions, tat they are?"

  My guide placed his finger on his lip, and said, "Fear nothing, Dougal;your hands shall never draw a bolt on me."

  "Tat sall they no," said Dougal; "she suld--she wad--that is, she wishesthem hacked aff by the elbows first--But when are ye gaun yonder again?and ye'll no forget to let her ken--she's your puir cousin, God kens,only seven times removed."

  "I will let you ken, Dougal, as soon as my plans are settled."

  "And, by her sooth, when you do, an it were twal o' the Sunday at e'en,she'll fling her keys at the provost's head or she gie them anither turn,and that or ever Monday morning begins--see if she winna."

  My mysterious stranger cut his acquaintance's ecstasies short by againaddressing him, in what I afterwards understood to be the Irish, Earse,or Gaelic, explaining, probably, the services which he required at hishand. The answer, "Wi' a' her heart--wi' a' her soul," with a good dealof indistinct muttering in a similar tone, intimated the turnkey'sacquiescence in what he proposed. The fellow trimmed his dying lamp, andmade a sign to me to follow him.

  "Do you not go with us?" said I, looking to my conductor.

  "It is unnecessary," he replied; "my company may be inconvenient for you,and I had better remain to secure our retreat."

  "I do not suppose you mean to betray me to danger," said I.

  "To none but what I partake in doubly," answered the stranger, with avoice of assurance which it was impossible to mistrust.

  I followed the turnkey, who, leaving the inner wicket unlocked behindhim, led me up a _turnpike_ (so the Scotch call a winding stair), thenalong a narrow gallery--then opening one of several doors which led intothe passage, he ushered me into a small apartment, and casting his eye onthe pallet-bed which occupied one corner, said with an under voice, as heplaced the lamp on a little deal table, "She's sleeping."

  "She!--who?--can it be Diana Vernon in this abode of misery?"

  I turned my eye to the bed, and it was with a mixture of disappointmentoddly mingled with pleasure, that I saw my first suspicion had deceivedme. I saw a head neither young nor beautiful, garnished with a grey beardof two days' growth, and accommodated with a red nightcap. The firstglance put me at ease on the score of Diana Vernon; the second, as theslumberer awoke from a heavy sleep, yawned, and rubbed his eyes,presented me with features very different indeed--even those of my poorfriend Owen. I drew back out of view an instant, that he might have timeto recover himself; fortunately recollecting that I was but an intruderon these cells of sorrow, and that any alarm might be attended withunhappy consequences.

  Meantime, the unfortunate formalist, raising himself from the pallet-bedwith the assistance of one hand, and scratching his cap with the other,exclaimed in a voice in which as much peevishness as he was capable offeeling, contended with drowsiness, "I'll tell you what, Mr. Dug-well, orwhatever your name may be, the sum-total of the matter is, that if mynatural rest is to be broken in this manner, I must complain to the lordmayor."

  "Shentlemans to speak wi' her," replied Dougal, resuming the true doggedsullen tone of a turnkey, in exchange for the shrill clang of Highlandcongratulation with which he had welcomed my mysterious guide; and,turning on his heel, he left the apartment.

  It was some time before I could prevail upon the unfortunate sleeperawakening to recognise me; and when he did so, the distress of the worthycreature was extreme, at supposing, which he naturally did, that I hadbeen sent thither as a partner of his captivity.

  "O, Mr. Frank, what have you brought yourself and the house to?--I thinknothing of myself, that am a mere cipher, so to speak; but you, that wasyour father's sum-total--his omnium,--you that might have been the firstman in the first house in the first city, to be shut up in a nasty Scotchjail, where one cannot even get the dirt brushed off their clothes!"

  He rubbed, with an air of peevish irritation, the once stainless browncoat, which had now shared some of the impurities of the floor of hisprison-house,--his habits of extreme punctilious neatness actingmechanically to increase his distress.--"O Heaven be gracious to us!" hecontinued. "What news this will be on 'Change! There has not the likecome there since the battle of Almanza, where the total of the Britishloss was summed up to five thousand men killed and wounded, besides afloating balance of missing--but what will that be to the news thatOsbaldistone and Tresham have stopped!"

  I broke in on his lamentations to acquaint him that I was no prisoner,though scarce able to account for my being in that place at such an hour.I could only silence his inquiries by persisting in those which his ownsituation suggested; and at length obtained from him such information ashe was able to give me. It was none of the most distinct; for, howeverclear-headed in his own routine of commercial business, Owen, you arewell aware, was not very acute in comprehending what lay beyond thatsphere.

  The sum of his information was, that of two correspondents of my father'sfirm at Glasgow, where, owing to engagements in Scotland formerly alludedto, he transacted a great deal of business, both my father and Owen hadfound the house of MacVittie, MacFin, and Company, the most obliging andaccommodating. They had deferred to the great English house on everypossible occasion; and in their bargains and transactions acted, withoutrepining, the part of the jackall, who only claims what the lion ispleased to leave him. However small the share of profit allotted to them,it was always, as they expressed it, "enough for the like of them;"however large the portion of trouble, "they were sensible they could notdo too much to deserve the continued patronage and good opinion of theirhonoured friends in Crane Alley."

  The dictates of my father were to MacVittie and MacFin the laws of theMedes and Persians, not to be altere
d, innovated, or even discussed; andthe punctilios exacted by Owen in their business transactions, for he wasa great lover of form, more especially when he could dictate it _excathedra,_ seemed scarce less sanctimonious in their eyes. This tone ofdeep and respectful observance went all currently down with Owen; but myfather looked a little closer into men's bosoms, and whether suspiciousof this excess of deference, or, as a lover of brevity and simplicity inbusiness, tired with these gentlemen's long-winded professions of regard,he had uniformly resisted their desire to become his sole agents inScotland. On the contrary, he transacted many affairs through acorrespondent of a character perfectly different--a man whose goodopinion of himself amounted to self-conceit, and who, disliking theEnglish in general as much as my father did the Scotch, would hold nocommunication but on a footing of absolute equality; jealous, moreover;captious occasionally; as tenacious of his own opinions in point of formas Owen could be of his; and totally indifferent though the authority ofall Lombard Street had stood against his own private opinion.

  As these peculiarities of temper rendered it difficult to transactbusiness with Mr. Nicol Jarvie,--as they occasioned at times disputes andcoldness between the English house and their correspondent, which wereonly got over by a sense of mutual interest,--as, moreover, Owen'spersonal vanity sometimes suffered a little in the discussions to whichthey gave rise, you cannot be surprised, Tresham, that our old friendthrew at all times the weight of his influence in favour of the civil,discreet, accommodating concern of MacVittie and MacFin, and spoke ofJarvie as a petulant, conceited Scotch pedlar, with whom there was nodealing.

  It was also not surprising, that in these circumstances, which I onlylearned in detail some time afterwards, Owen, in the difficulties towhich the house was reduced by the absence of my father, and thedisappearance of Rashleigh, should, on his arrival in Scotland, whichtook place two days before mine, have recourse to the friendship of thosecorrespondents, who had always professed themselves obliged, gratified,and devoted to the service of his principal. He was received at Messrs.MacVittie and MacFin's counting-house in the Gallowgate, with somethinglike the devotion a Catholic would pay to his tutelar saint. But, alas!this sunshine was soon overclouded, when, encouraged by the fair hopeswhich it inspired, he opened the difficulties of the house to hisfriendly correspondents, and requested their counsel and assistance.MacVittie was almost stunned by the communication; and MacFin, ere it wascompleted, was already at the ledger of their firm, and deeply engaged inthe very bowels of the multitudinous accounts between their house andthat of Osbaldistone and Tresham, for the purpose of discovering on whichside the balance lay. Alas! the scale depressed considerably against theEnglish firm; and the faces of MacVittie and MacFin, hitherto only blankand doubtful, became now ominous, grim, and lowering. They met Mr. Owen'srequest of countenance and assistance with a counter-demand of instantsecurity against imminent hazard of eventual loss; and at length,speaking more plainly, required that a deposit of assets, destined forother purposes, should be placed in their hands for that purpose. Owenrepelled this demand with great indignation, as dishonourable to hisconstituents, unjust to the other creditors of Osbaldistone and Tresham,and very ungrateful on the part of those by whom it was made.

  The Scotch partners gained, in the course of this controversy, what isvery convenient to persons who are in the wrong, an opportunity andpretext for putting themselves in a violent passion, and for taking,under the pretext of the provocation they had received, measures to whichsome sense of decency, if not of conscience, might otherwise havedeterred them from resorting.

  Owen had a small share, as I believe is usual, in the house to which heacted as head-clerk, and was therefore personally liable for all itsobligations. This was known to Messrs. MacVittie and MacFin; and, with aview of making him feel their power, or rather in order to force him, atthis emergency, into those measures in their favour, to which he hadexpressed himself so repugnant, they had recourse to a summary process ofarrest and imprisonment,--which it seems the law of Scotland (thereinsurely liable to much abuse) allows to a creditor, who finds hisconscience at liberty to make oath that the debtor meditates departingfrom the realm. Under such a warrant had poor Owen been confined todurance on the day preceding that when I was so strangely guided to hisprison-house.

  Thus possessed of the alarming outline of facts, the question remained,what was to be done and it was not of easy determination. I plainlyperceived the perils with which we were surrounded, but it was moredifficult to suggest any remedy. The warning which I had already receivedseemed to intimate, that my own personal liberty might be endangered byan open appearance in Owen's behalf. Owen entertained the sameapprehension, and, in the exaggeration of his terror, assured me that aScotchman, rather than run the risk of losing a farthing by anEnglishman, would find law for arresting his wife, children, man-servant,maidservant, and stranger within his household. The laws concerning debt,in most countries, are so unmercifully severe, that I could notaltogether disbelieve his statement; and my arrest, in the presentcircumstances, would have been a _coup-de-grace_ to my father's affairs.In this dilemma, I asked Owen if he had not thought of having recourse tomy father's other correspondent in Glasgow, Mr. Nicol Jarvie?

  "He had sent him a letter," he replied, "that morning; but if thesmooth-tongued and civil house in the Gallowgate* had used him thus, whatwas to be expected from the cross-grained crab-stock in the Salt-Market?

  * [A street in the old town of Glasgow.]

  You might as well ask a broker to give up his percentage, as expect afavour from him without the _per contra._ He had not even," Owen said,"answered his letter though it was put into his hand that morning as hewent to church." And here the despairing man-of-figures threw himselfdown on his pallet, exclaiming,--"My poor dear master! My poor dearmaster! O Mr. Frank, Mr. Frank, this is all your obstinacy!--But Godforgive me for saying so to you in your distress! It's God's disposing,and man must submit."

  My philosophy, Tresham, could not prevent my sharing in the honestcreature's distress, and we mingled our tears,--the more bitter on mypart, as the perverse opposition to my father's will, with which thekind-hearted Owen forbore to upbraid me, rose up to my conscience as thecause of all this affliction.

  In the midst of our mingled sorrow, we were disturbed and surprised by aloud knocking at the outward door of the prison. I ran to the top of thestaircase to listen, but could only hear the voice of the turnkey,alternately in a high tone, answering to some person without, and in awhisper, addressed to the person who had guided me hither--"She'scoming--she's coming," aloud; then in a low key, "O hon-a-ri! O hon-a-ri!what'll she do now?--Gang up ta stair, and hide yourself ahint taSassenach shentleman's ped.--She's coming as fast as she can.--Ahellanay!it's my lord provosts, and ta pailies, and ta guard--and ta captain'scoming toon stairs too--Got press her! gang up or he meets her.--She'scoming--she's coming--ta lock's sair roosted."

  While Dougal, unwillingly, and with as much delay as possible, undid thevarious fastenings to give admittance to those without, whose impatiencebecame clamorous, my guide ascended the winding stair, and sprang intoOwen's apartment, into which I followed him. He cast his eyes hastilyround, as if looking for a place of concealment; then said to me, "Lendme your pistols--yet it's no matter, I can do without them--Whatever yousee, take no heed, and do not mix your hand in another man's feud--Thisgear's mine, and I must manage it as I dow; but I have been as hardbested, and worse, than I am even now."

  As the stranger spoke these words, he stripped from his person thecumbrous upper coat in which he was wrapt, confronted the door of theapartment, on which he fixed a keen and determined glance, drawing hisperson a little back to concentrate his force, like a fine horse broughtup to the leaping-bar. I had not a moment's doubt that he meant toextricate himself from his embarrassment, whatever might be the cause ofit, by springing full upon those who should appear when the doors opened,and forcing his way through all opposition into the street;--and such wasthe appearance of strength and agil
ity displayed in his frame, and ofdetermination in his look and manner, that I did not doubt a moment butthat he might get clear through his opponents, unless they employed fatalmeans to stop his purpose. It was a period of awful suspense betwixt theopening of the outward gate and that of the door of the apartment, whenthere appeared--no guard with bayonets fixed, or watch with clubs, bills,or partisans, but a good-looking young woman, with grogram petticoats,tucked up for trudging through the streets, and holding a lantern in herhand. This female ushered in a more important personage, in form, stout,short, and somewhat corpulent; and by dignity, as it soon appeared, amagistrate, bob-wigged, bustling, and breathless with peevish impatience.My conductor, at his appearance, drew back as if to escape observation;but he could not elude the penetrating twinkle with which this dignitaryreconnoitered the whole apartment.

  "A bonny thing it is, and a beseeming, that I should be kept at the doorhalf an hour, Captain Stanchells," said he, addressing the principaljailor, who now showed himself at the door as if in attendance on thegreat man, "knocking as hard to get into the tolbooth as onybody else wadto get out of it, could that avail them, poor fallen creatures!--Andhow's this?--how's this?--strangers in the jail after lock-up hours, andon the Sabbath evening!--I shall look after this, Stanchells, you maydepend on't--Keep the door locked, and I'll speak to these gentlemen in agliffing--But first I maun hae a crack wi' an auld acquaintance here.--Mr. Owen, Mr. Owen, how's a' wi' ye, man?"

  "Pretty well in body, I thank you, Mr. Jarvie," drawled out poor Owen,"but sore afflicted in spirit."

  "Nae doubt, nae doubt--ay, ay--it's an awfu' whummle--and for ane thatheld his head sae high too--human nature, human nature--Ay ay, we're a'subject to a downcome. Mr. Osbaldistone is a gude honest gentleman; but Iaye said he was ane o' them wad make a spune or spoil a horn, as myfather the worthy deacon used to say. The deacon used to say to me,'Nick--young Nick' (his name was Nicol as weel as mine; sae folk ca'd usin their daffin', young Nick and auld Nick)--'Nick,' said he, 'never putout your arm farther than ye can draw it easily back again.' I hae saidsae to Mr. Osbaldistone, and he didna seem to take it a'thegither saekind as I wished--but it was weel meant--weel meant."

  This discourse, delivered with prodigious volubility, and a greatappearance of self-complacency, as he recollected his own advice andpredictions, gave little promise of assistance at the hands of Mr.Jarvie. Yet it soon appeared rather to proceed from a total want ofdelicacy than any deficiency of real kindness; for when Owen expressedhimself somewhat hurt that these things should be recalled to memory inhis present situation, the Glaswegian took him by the hand, and bade him"Cheer up a gliff! D'ye think I wad hae comed out at twal o'clock atnight, and amaist broken the Lord's day, just to tell a fa'en man o' hisbackslidings? Na, na, that's no Bailie Jarvie's gate, nor was't hisworthy father's the deacon afore him. Why, man! it's my rule never tothink on warldly business on the Sabbath, and though I did a' I could tokeep your note that I gat this morning out o' my head, yet I thought mairon it a' day, than on the preaching--And it's my rule to gang to my bedwi' the yellow curtains preceesely at ten o'clock--unless I were eating ahaddock wi' a neighbour, or a neighbour wi' me--ask the lass-quean there,if it isna a fundamental rule in my household; and here hae I sitten upreading gude books, and gaping as if I wad swallow St. Enox Kirk, till itchappit twal, whilk was a lawfu' hour to gie a look at my ledger, just tosee how things stood between us; and then, as time and tide wait for noman, I made the lass get the lantern, and came slipping my ways here tosee what can be dune anent your affairs. Bailie Jarvie can commandentrance into the tolbooth at ony hour, day or night;--sae could myfather the deacon in his time, honest man, praise to his memory."

  Although Owen groaned at the mention of the ledger, leading me grievouslyto fear that here also the balance stood in the wrong column; andalthough the worthy magistrate's speech expressed much self-complacency,and some ominous triumph in his own superior judgment, yet it was blendedwith a sort of frank and blunt good-nature, from which I could not helpderiving some hopes. He requested to see some papers he mentioned,snatched them hastily from Owen's hand, and sitting on the bed, to "resthis shanks," as he was pleased to express the accommodation which thatposture afforded him, his servant girl held up the lantern to him, while,pshawing, muttering, and sputtering, now at the imperfect light, now atthe contents of the packet, he ran over the writings it contained.

  Seeing him fairly engaged in this course of study, the guide who hadbrought me hither seemed disposed to take an unceremonious leave. He madea sign to me to say nothing, and intimated, by his change of posture, anintention to glide towards the door in such a manner as to attract theleast possible observation. But the alert magistrate (very different frommy old acquaintance, Mr. Justice Inglewood) instantly detected andinterrupted his purposes. "I say, look to the door, Stanchells--shut andlock it, and keep watch on the outside."

  The stranger's brow darkened, and he seemed for an instant again tomeditate the effecting his retreat by violence; but ere he haddetermined, the door closed, and the ponderous bolt revolved. He mutteredan exclamation in Gaelic, strode across the floor, and then, with an airof dogged resolution, as if fixed and prepared to see the scene to anend, sate himself down on the oak table, and whistled a strathspey.

  Mr. Jarvie, who seemed very alert and expeditious in going throughbusiness, soon showed himself master of that which he had beenconsidering, and addressed himself to Mr. Owen in the following strain:--"Weel, Mr. Owen, weel--your house are awin' certain sums to Messrs.MacVittie and MacFin (shame fa' their souple snouts! they made that andmair out o' a bargain about the aik-woods at Glen-Cailziechat, that theytook out atween my teeth--wi' help o' your gude word, I maun needs say,Mr. Owen--but that makes nae odds now)--Weel, sir, your house awes themthis siller; and for this, and relief of other engagements they stand infor you, they hae putten a double turn o' Stanchells' muckle key on ye.--Weel, sir, ye awe this siller--and maybe ye awe some mair to some otherbody too--maybe ye awe some to myself, Bailie Nicol Jarvie."

  "I cannot deny, sir, but the balance may of this date be brought outagainst us, Mr. Jarvie," said Owen; "but you'll please to consider"--

  "I hae nae time to consider e'enow, Mr. Owen--Sae near Sabbath at e'en,and out o' ane's warm bed at this time o' night, and a sort o' drow inthe air besides--there's nae time for considering--But, sir, as I wassaying, ye awe me money--it winna deny--ye awe me money, less or mair,I'll stand by it. But then, Mr. Owen, I canna see how you, an active manthat understands business, can redd out the business ye're come downabout, and clear us a' aff--as I have gritt hope ye will--if ye're keepitlying here in the tolbooth of Glasgow. Now, sir, if you can find caution_judicio sisti,_--that is, that ye winna flee the country, but appear andrelieve your caution when ca'd for in our legal courts, ye may be set atliberty this very morning."

  "Mr. Jarvie," said Owen, "if any friend would become surety for me tothat effect, my liberty might be usefully employed, doubtless, both forthe house and all connected with it."

  "Aweel, sir," continued Jarvie, "and doubtless such a friend wad expectye to appear when ca'd on, and relieve him o' his engagement."

  "And I should do so as certainly, bating sickness or death, as that twoand two make four."

  "Aweel, Mr. Owen," resumed the citizen of Glasgow, "I dinna misdoubt ye,and I'll prove it, sir--I'll prove it. I am a carefu' man, as is weelken'd, and industrious, as the hale town can testify; and I can win mycrowns, and keep my crowns, and count my crowns, wi' onybody in the SautMarket, or it may be in the Gallowgate. And I'm a prudent man, as myfather the deacon was before me;--but rather than an honest civilgentleman, that understands business, and is willing to do justice to allmen, should lie by the heels this gate, unable to help himsell or onybodyelse--why, conscience, man! I'll be your bail myself--But ye'll mind it'sa bail _judicio sisti,_ as our town-clerk says, not _judicatum solvi;_ye'll mind that, for there's muckle difference."

  Mr. Owen assured him, that as matters then stood, he could not e
xpect anyone to become surety for the actual payment of the debt, but that therewas not the most distant cause for apprehending loss from his failing topresent himself when lawfully called upon.

  "I believe ye--I believe ye. Eneugh said--eneugh said. We'se hae yourlegs loose by breakfast-time.--And now let's hear what thir chamberchiels o' yours hae to say for themselves, or how, in the name of unrule,they got here at this time o' night."

  Rob Roy in Prison--68]