CHAPTER XXXIV
To this brave man the knight repairs For counsel in his law affairs; And found him mounted in his pew. With books and money placed for show, Like nest-eggs to make clients lay, And for his false opinion pay. _Hudibras._
Our readers may recollect a certain smooth-tongued, lank-haired,buckram-suited, Scottish scrivener, who, in the earlier part of thishistory, appeared in the character of a protege of George Heriot. It isto his house we are about to remove, but times have changed with him.The petty booth hath become a chamber of importance--the buckram suitis changed into black velvet; and although the wearer retains hispuritanical humility and politeness to clients of consequence, he cannow look others broad in the face, and treat them with a full allowanceof superior opulence, and the insolence arising from it. It was buta short period that had achieved these alterations, nor was the partyhimself as yet entirely accustomed to them, but the change was becomingless embarrassing to him with every day's practice. Among otheracquisitions of wealth, you may see one of Davy Ramsay's best timepieceson the table, and his eye is frequently observing its revolutions, whilea boy, whom he employs as a scribe, is occasionally sent out to compareits progress with the clock of Saint Dunstan.
The scrivener himself seemed considerably agitated. He took from astrong-box a bundle of parchments, and read passages of them with greatattention; then began to soliloquize--"There is no outlet which law cansuggest--no back-door of evasion--none--if the lands of Glenvarlochare not redeemed before it rings noon, Lord Dalgarno has them a cheappennyworth. Strange, that he should have been at last able to set hispatron at defiance, and achieve for himself the fair estate, with theprospect of which he so long flattered the powerful Buckingham.--Mightnot Andrew Skurliewhitter nick him as neatly? He hath been mypatron--true--not more than Buckingham was his; and he can be so nomore, for he departs presently for Scotland. I am glad of it--I hatehim, and I fear him. He knows too many of my secrets--I know too manyof his. But, no--no--no--I need never attempt it, there are no means ofover-reaching him.--Well, Willie, what o'clock?"
"Ele'en hours just chappit, sir."
"Go to your desk without, child," said the scrivener. "What to donext--I shall lose the old Earl's fair business, and, what is worse, hisson's foul practice. Old Heriot looks too close into business to permitme more than the paltry and ordinary dues. The Whitefriars business wasprofitable, but it has become unsafe ever since--pah!--what brought thatin my head just now? I can hardly hold my pen--if men should see mein this way!--Willie," (calling aloud to the boy,) "a cup of distilledwaters--Soh!--now I could face the devil."
He spoke the last words aloud, and close by the door of the apartment,which was suddenly opened by Richie Moniplies, followed by twogentlemen, and attended by two porters bearing money-bags. "If ye canface the devil, Maister Skurliewhitter," said Richie, "ye will be theless likely to turn your back on a sack or twa o' siller, which I haveta'en the freedom to bring you. Sathanas and Mammon are near akin." Theporters, at the same time, ranged their load on the floor.
"I--I,"--stammered the surprised scrivener--"I cannot guess what youmean, sir."
"Only that I have brought you the redemption-money on the part ofLord Glenvarloch, in discharge of a certain mortgage over his familyinheritance. And here, in good time, comes Master Reginald Lowestoffe,and another honourable gentleman of the Temple, to be witnesses to thetransaction."
"I--I incline to think," said the scrivener, "that the term is expired."
"You will pardon us, Master Scrivener," said Lowestoffe. "You will notbaffle us--it wants three-quarters of noon by every clock in the city."
"I must have time, gentlemen," said Andrew, "to examine the gold by taleand weight."
"Do so at your leisure, Master Scrivener," replied Lowestoffe again."We have already seen the contents of each sack told and weighed, and wehave put our seals on them. There they stand in a row, twenty in number,each containing three hundred yellow-hammers--we are witnesses to thelawful tender."
"Gentlemen," said the scrivener, "this security now belongs to amighty lord. I pray you, abate your haste, and let me send for LordDalgarno,--or rather I will run for him myself."
So saying, he took up his hat; but Lowestoffe called out,--"FriendMoniplies, keep the door fast, an thou be'st a man! he seeks but to putoff the time.--In plain terms, Andrew, you may send for the devil, ifyou will, who is the mightiest lord of my acquaintance, but from henceyou stir not till you have answered our proposition, by rejecting oraccepting the redemption-money fairly tendered--there it lies--take it,or leave it, as you will. I have skill enough to know that the law ismightier than any lord in Britain--I have learned so much at the Temple,if I have learned nothing else. And see that you trifle not with it,lest it make your long ears an inch shorter, Master Skurliewhitter."
"Nay, gentlemen, if you threaten me," said the scrivener, "I cannotresist compulsion."
"No threats--no threats at all, my little Andrew," said Lowestoffe; "alittle friendly advice only--forget not, honest Andrew, I have seen youin Alsatia."
Without answering a single word, the scrivener sat down, and drew inproper form a full receipt for the money proffered.
"I take it on your report, Master Lowestoffe," he said; "I hope youwill remember I have insisted neither upon weight nor tale--I have beencivil--if there is deficiency I shall come to loss."
"Fillip his nose with a gold-piece, Richie," quoth the Templar. "Take upthe papers, and now wend we merrily to dine thou wot'st where."
"If I might choose," said Richie, "it should not be at yonder roguishordinary; but as it is your pleasure, gentlemen, the treat shall begiven wheresoever you will have it."
"At the ordinary," said the one Templar.
"At Beaujeu's," said the other; "it is the only house in London for neatwines, nimble drawers, choice dishes, and--"
"And high charges," quoth Richie Moniplies. "But, as I said before,gentlemen, ye have a right to command me in this thing, having sofrankly rendered me your service in this small matter of business,without other stipulation than that of a slight banquet."
The latter part of this discourse passed in the street, where,immediately afterwards, they met Lord Dalgarno. He appeared in haste,touched his hat slightly to Master Lowestoffe, who returned hisreverence with the same negligence, and walked slowly on with hiscompanion, while Lord Dalgarno stopped Richie Moniplies with acommanding sign, which the instinct of education compelled Moniplies,though indignant, to obey.
"Whom do you now follow, sirrah?" demanded the noble.
"Whomsoever goeth before me, my lord," answered Moniplies.
"No sauciness, you knave--I desire to know if you still serve NigelOlifaunt?" said Dalgarno.
"I am friend to the noble Lord Glenvarloch," answered Moniplies, withdignity.
"True," replied Lord Dalgarno, "that noble lord has sunk to seek friendsamong lackeys--Nevertheless,--hark thee hither,--nevertheless, if hebe of the same mind as when we last met, thou mayst show him, that, onto-morrow, at four afternoon, I shall pass northward by Enfield Chase--Iwill be slenderly attended, as I design to send my train through Barnet.It is my purpose to ride an easy pace through the forest, and to lingera while by Camlet Moat--he knows the place; and, if he be aught but anAlsatian bully, will think it fitter for some purposes than the Park. Heis, I understand, at liberty, or shortly to be so. If he fail me atthe place nominated, he must seek me in Scotland, where he will find mepossessed of his father's estate and lands."
"Humph!" muttered Richie; "there go twa words to that bargain."
He even meditated a joke on the means which he was conscious hepossessed of baffling Lord Dalgarno's expectations; but there wassomething of keen and dangerous excitement in the eyes of the youngnobleman, which prompted his discretion for once to rule his vit, and heonly answered--
"God grant your lordship may well brook your new conquest--when youget it. I shall do your errand to my lord--whilk is to say," he addedinternally, "
he shall never hear a word of it from Richie. I am not thelad to put him in such hazard."
Lord Dalgarno looked at him sharply for a moment, as if to penetratethe meaning of the dry ironical tone, which, in spite of Richie's awe,mingled with his answer, and then waved his hand, in signal he shouldpass on. He himself walked slowly till the trio were out of sight, thenturned back with hasty steps to the door of the scrivener, which he hadpassed in his progress, knocked, and was admitted.
Lord Dalgarno found the man of law with the money-bags stillstanding before him; and it escaped not his penetrating glance, thatSkurliewhitter was disconcerted and alarmed at his approach.
"How now, man," he said; "what! hast thou not a word of oily complimentto me on my happy marriage?--not a word of most philosophicalconsolation on my disgrace at Court?--Or has my mien, as a wittol anddiscarded favourite, the properties of the Gorgon's head, the _turbataePalladis arma_, as Majesty might say?"
"My lord, I am glad--my lord, I am sorry,"--answered the tremblingscrivener, who, aware of the vivacity of Lord Dalgarno's temper, dreadedthe consequence of the communication he had to make to him.
"Glad and sorry!" answered Lord Dalgarno. "That is blowing hot and cold,with a witness. Hark ye, you picture of petty-larceny personified--ifyou are sorry I am a cuckold, remember I am only mine own, youknave--there is too little blood in her cheeks to have sent her astrayelsewhere. Well, I will bear mine antler'd honours as I may--goldshall gild them; and for my disgrace, revenge shall sweeten it. Ay,revenge--and there strikes the happy hour!"
The hour of noon was accordingly heard to peal from Saint Dunstan's."Well banged, brave hammers!" said Lord Dalgarno, in triumph.--"Theestate and lands of Glenvarloch are crushed beneath these clangingblows. If my steel to-morrow prove but as true as your iron macesto-day, the poor landless lord will little miss what your peal hathcut him out from.--The papers--the papers, thou varlet! I am to-morrowNorthward, ho! At four, afternoon, I am bound to be at Camlet Moat,in the Enfield Chase. To-night most of my retinue set forward. Thepapers!--Come, dispatch."
"My lord, the--the papers of the Glenvarloch mortgage--I--I have themnot."
"Have them not!" echoed Lord Dalgarno,--"Hast thou sent them to mylodgings, thou varlet? Did I not say I was coming hither?--What mean youby pointing to that money? What villainy have you done for it? It is toolarge to be come honestly by."
"Your lordship knows best," answered the scrivener, in greatperturbation. "The gold is your own. It is--it is--"
"Not the redemption-money of the Glenvarloch estate!" said Dalgarno."Dare not say it is, or I will, upon the spot, divorce your pettifoggingsoul from your carrion carcass!" So saying, he seized the scrivenerby the collar, and shook him so vehemently, that he tore it from thecassock.
"My lord, I must call for help," said the trembling caitiff, who feltat that moment all the bitterness of the mortal agony--"It was the law'sact, not mine. What could I do?"
"Dost ask?--why, thou snivelling dribblet of damnation, were all thyoaths, tricks, and lies spent? or do you hold yourself too good to utterthem in my service? Thou shouldst have lied, cozened, out-sworn truthitself, rather than stood betwixt me and my revenge! But mark me," hecontinued; "I know more of your pranks than would hang thee. A line fromme to the Attorney-General, and thou art sped."
"What would you have me to do, my lord?" said the scrivener. "All thatart and law can accomplish, I will try."
"Ah, are you converted? do so, or pity of your life!" said the lord;"and remember I never fail my word.--Then keep that accursed gold,"he continued. "Or, stay, I will not trust you--send me this gold homepresently to my lodging. I will still forward to Scotland, and it shallgo hard but that I hold out Glenvarloch Castle against the owner, bymeans of the ammunition he has himself furnished. Thou art ready toserve me?" The scrivener professed the most implicit obedience.
"Then remember, the hour was past ere payment was tendered--and see thouhast witnesses of trusty memory to prove that point."
"Tush, my lord, I will do more," said Andrew, reviving--"I will provethat Lord Glenvarloch's friends threatened, swaggered, and drew swordson me.--Did your lordship think I was ungrateful enough to have sufferedthem to prejudice your lordship, save that they had bare swords at mythroat?"
"Enough said," replied Dalgarno; "you are perfect--mind that youcontinue so, as you would avoid my fury. I leave my page below--getporters, and let them follow me instantly with the gold."
So saying, Lord Dalgarno left the scrivener's habitation.
Skurliewhitter, having dispatched his boy to get porters of trust fortransporting the money, remained alone and in dismay, meditating bywhat means he could shake himself free of the vindictive and ferociousnobleman, who possessed at once a dangerous knowledge of his character,and the power of exposing him, where exposure would be ruin. Hehad indeed acquiesced in the plan, rapidly sketched, for obtainingpossession of the ransomed estate, but his experience foresaw that thiswould be impossible; while, on the other hand, he could not anticipatethe various consequences of Lord Dalgarno's resentment, without fears,from which his sordid soul recoiled. To be in the power, and subjectboth to the humours and the extortions of a spendthrift young lord, justwhen his industry had shaped out the means of fortune,--it was the mostcruel trick which fate could have played the incipient usurer.
While the scrivener was in this fit of anxious anticipation, one knockedat the door of the apartment; and, being desired to enter, appeared inthe coarse riding-cloak of uncut Wiltshire cloth, fastened by a broadleather belt and brass buckle, which was then generally worn by graziersand countrymen. Skurliewhitter, believing he saw in his visitor acountry client who might prove profitable, had opened his mouth torequest him to be seated, when the stranger, throwing back his friezehood which he had drawn over his face, showed the scrivener featureswell imprinted in his recollection, but which he never saw without adisposition to swoon.
"Is it you?" he said, faintly, as the stranger replaced the hood whichconcealed his features.
"Who else should it be?" said his visitor.
"Thou son of parchment, got betwixt the inkhorn And the stuff'dprocess-bag--that mayest call The pen thy father, and the ink thy mother,
The wax thy brother, and the sand thy sister And the good pillory thy cousin allied-- Rise, and do reverence unto me, thy better!"
"Not yet down to the country," said the scrivener, "after every warning?Do not think your grazier's cloak will bear you out, captain--no, noryour scraps of stage-plays."
"Why, what would you have me to do?" said the captain--"Would you haveme starve? If I am to fly, you must eke my wings with a few feathers.You can spare them, I think."
"You had means already--you have had ten pieces--What is become ofthem?"
"Gone," answered Captain Colepepper--"Gone, no matter where--I had amind to bite, and I was bitten, that's all--I think my hand shook at thethought of t'other night's work, for I trowled the doctors like a verybaby."
"And you have lost all, then?--Well, take this and be gone," said thescrivener.
"What, two poor smelts! Marry, plague of your bounty!--But remember, youare as deep in as I."
"Not so, by Heaven!" answered the scrivener; "I only thought of easingthe old man of some papers and a trifle of his gold, and you took hislife."
"Were he living," answered Colepepper, "he would rather have lostit than his money.--But that is not the question, MasterSkurliewhitter--you undid the private bolts of the window when youvisited him about some affairs on the day ere he died--so satisfyyourself, that, if I am taken, I will not swing alone. Pity JackHempsfield is dead, it spoils the old catch,
'And three merry men, and three merry men, And three merry men are we, As ever did sing three parts in a string, All under the triple tree.'"
"For God's sake, speak lower," said the scrivener; "is this a place ortime to make your midnight catches heard?--But how much will serve yourturn? I tell you I am but ill provided."
"You tell me
a lie, then," said the bully--"a most palpable and grosslie.--How much, d'ye say, will serve my turn? Why, one of these bagswill do for the present."
"I swear to you that these bags of money are not at my disposal."
"Not honestly, perhaps," said the captain, "but that makes littledifference betwixt us."
"I swear to you," continued the scrivener "they are in no way at mydisposal--they have been delivered to me by tale--I am to pay them overto Lord Dalgarno, whose boy waits for them, and I could not skelder onepiece out of them, without risk of hue and cry."
"Can you not put off the delivery?" said the bravo, his huge hand stillfumbling with one of the bags, as if his fingers longed to close on it.
"Impossible," said the scrivener, "he sets forward to Scotlandto-morrow."
"Ay!" said the bully, after a moment's thought--"Travels he the northroad with such a charge?"
"He is well accompanied," added the scrivener; "but yet--"
"But yet--but what?" said the bravo.
"Nay, I meant nothing," said the scrivener.
"Thou didst--thou hadst the wind of some good thing," repliedColepepper; "I saw thee pause like a setting dog. Thou wilt say aslittle, and make as sure a sign, as a well-bred spaniel."
"All I meant to say, captain, was, that his servants go by Barnet, andhe himself, with his page, pass through Enfield Chase; and he spoke tome yesterday of riding a soft pace."
"Aha!--Comest thou to me there, my boy?"
"And of resting"--continued the scrivener,--"resting a space at CamletMoat."
"Why, this is better than cock-fighting!" said the captain.
"I see not how it can advantage you, captain," said the scrivener. "But,however, they cannot ride fast, for his page rides the sumpter-horse,which carries all that weight," pointing to the money on the table."Lord Dalgarno looks sharp to the world's gear."
"That horse will be obliged to those who may ease him of his burden,"said the bravo; "and egad, he may be met with.--He hath still thatpage--that same Lutin--that goblin? Well, the boy hath set game forme ere now. I will be revenged, too, for I owe him a grudge for an oldscore at the ordinary. Let me see--Black Feltham, and Dick Shakebag--weshall want a fourth--I love to make sure, and the booty will standparting, besides what I can bucket them out of. Well, scrivener, lendme two pieces.--Bravely done--nobly imparted! Give ye good-den." Andwrapping his disguise closer around him, away he went.
When he had left the room, the scrivener wrung his hands, and exclaimed,"More blood--more blood! I thought to have had done with it, but thistime there was no fault with me--none--and then I shall have all theadvantage. If this ruffian falls, there is truce with his tugs at mypurse-strings; and if Lord Dalgarno dies--as is most likely, for thoughas much afraid of cold steel as a debtor of a dun, this fellow isa deadly shot from behind a bush,--then am I in a thousand wayssafe--safe--safe."
We willingly drop the curtain over him and his reflections.