CHAPTER XIX.

  _SUBORNATION OF PERJURY_.

  It was late in the afternoon when Joseph started homewards. He hadspent a cheerful day, and was in the best of spirits. The servants atAuchlippie had been most hospitable, and his friend Jean assiduous inreplenishing his cog from the kitchen beer-barrel; she had been gayand saucy in the extreme, and her dexterity with tongue and fist,whenever he went beyond the permitted limit, had excited his sincererespect and admiration.

  'A clever cummer 'at can haud her ain wi' the next ane! An' hech, butshe's gleg!' was Joseph's admiring soliloquy, as he tramped down theroad.

  'She's gotten a pose e'y bank, an' her granny's a bien auld body, wi'naebody else to leave her gear til,' he continued, 'wha kens?' buthere the soliloquy died into deeper reflection, and he tramped alongin meditative silence. How comfortable and respected he might be,established in the granny's croft, as master, with Jean to minister tohim and keep things brisk, with an occasional passage of wordywarfare. But the shadow of Tibbie rose in his mind and blocked thepath. She would forbid the banns and involve his schemes in utterconfusion, unless she could be quieted.

  He thought over his conversation with Mrs. Sangster. Oh! If Tibbie hadonly been there to hear it too! Some idea might have struck her, thatwould have induced her to loosen her hold on him, and try for highergame. We can but judge others by ourselves, and he knew that withhimself an arithmetical consideration was the weightiest that could bepresented, and that a pretext by which pounds might be extortedunjustly, would seem more attractive than an honest claim which couldonly be realized in shillings and pence. If she would only slacken herhold on him for a very little while, he thought he could manage thatshe should never renew it again.

  So reflecting, he reached home. It was Saturday evening, and therewere the usual preparations to make on the braeside for the servicesof the morrow, and thither he now repaired.

  The evening's shadows were gathering round the tent, and creeping upthe brae--sad and transparent like ghosts of the good resolutionsbegotten there last Sunday, and since then smothered and trampled todeath in the hurry and busy turmoil of the world's life; or so theymight have appeared had any pious and pensive soul been there towitness them, but there were none such. Only Tibbie Tirpie rose fromthe tent or pulpit steps, to confront Joseph as he approached key inhand.

  'Tibbie? Hoo's a' wi' ye, woman? A sicht o' ye's gude for sair e'eri.'It's lang sin' we hae forgathered.'

  'Juist sin' last Sawbith! An' ye hae na dune as ye said ye wad,yet--sae the langer time the mair shame to ye.'

  'Ye canna weel say that noo, Tibbie! come! I said I wad speak t'eyminister for ye, an' there's naebody e'y clachan but kens he gied yesiller. Was na that keepin' tryst?'

  'What kind o' a gowk do ye tak me for, Joseph Smiley? Think ye ye'r toslip through my fingers that gate? Ye ken brawly it's no theminister's siller I'm seekin', it's yours, an yersel' alang wi't. An'that I'se hae, an gin ye winna richt my lassie by fair means, I'segang to Mester Sangster an' the minister an' shame ye, an that'll bethe last o' yer bederalship, an' the end o' ye a' thegither round GlenEffick. Think ye I'll let ye aff o' the scathe, when my puir Tib hasto thole the scorn?'

  'Whisht woman! yer tongue's rinnin' awa wi' ye. Gin yell juist ca'canny, an' do biddin', ye'se do far mair for Tibbie nor I cud. Ye see,Luckie, I'm juist as ane micht say, naething but a puir earthenvessel, no gude for muckle, wi' nae gear, an' sma' wut to gather'twi'. What wad ye say noo til a gentleman for Tib? It's what the lassieocht to hae gotten wi' her bonnie face, an' gin what a' the folk sayswas true, belike she'd get ane.'

  'I kenna what ye're drivin' at, my man, but gin ye're gaun to send meon a fule's errand, an' sae gar me let ye aff, ye're sair mistaen; an'gin ye come na in whiles as ye gang by an' gie the lass her dues o'coortin', fair out afore folk, I'se gang down til auld MacSiccar, an'he'll hae ye up afore the Shirra, or I'm mistaen, an' syne yell kenwhether a law plea or a waddin' taks maist siller, an' aiblins ye'llhae to wive wi' her a' the same.'

  'But hoo wid ye like the minister e'y stead o' the bederal? wadna thatbe something worth while? The folk thinks that's the richts o't a' e'ynoo. An' gin ye'll juist haud them on their ain gate, an' keep yer ainjaws steekit--wha kens? A minister wad wed wi' the Deil's ain--dochterafore he'd hae himsel' or the Kirk misca'd. The folk says yon'sTibbie's bairn he taks tent on, doon by, an' what for need ye fash todeny't? gin the wein cam out o' the sea he'll can bring nae pruif, an'the folk hae taen't i' their heids to think the ither thing, sae ginye wad juist threip the same gate aiblins ye'd get yer way o't.'

  'The Lord forgie ye, Joseph Smiley, for a blackhearted, twa-facedvagabond! Ye ken weel what a gude maister the minister's been to you,an' ye wad turn round an' gar me lee awa his gude name! But tak yetent! There was ance anither, gaed to betray a gude master, for thesake o' what he'd mak out o't, an' he gaed an' hanged himsel' afore a'was done--Wha kens? The hemp may be baith sawn an' pued 'at's to makyer ain grawvit! An' noo I gie ye fair warnin', gin ye come-na byafore Wednesday, I'se gang til auld MacSiccar; sae nae mair o' yerparryin'.' And with a portentous shake of the head she departed.

  Joseph was little discomposed; he could hardly expect so startling aproposal to be received otherwise than with indignation, and yet, asby an off chance, it might bear fruit after all. The evil seed justscattered wanted time to germinate, some corner of her mind might yetprove to be a congenial soil, and it might spring up yet in a crop oflies to serve his turn.

  Returning home he came upon Ebenezer Prittie, merchant and postmaster,and one of the elders of the church. Ebenezer was a quiet plain manand zealous,--all his life he had heard of the Covenanters, theirheroism and their sufferings, and had been taught to think of them asthe summit and flower of his country's glory. He felt it to be aprivilege to be admitted to their sacred brotherhood, through being amember and office-bearer of the Free Church, and his only misgivingwas on account of the exceeding ease of the process, and itscheapness--an entering as it were on the privileges attached to themartyr's crown, at half price. Fighting wild beasts at Ephesus,wielding the sword of the Lord and of Gideon at Drumclog, escapingthrough the hill mists of the morning from the pursuing troopers ofClaverhouse,--to be made heir to, and sharer in, all those deeds ofheroism by paying the modern equivalent of so much self-sacrifice,contributing a penny a week to the Sustentation Fund, and sundrymoderate payments to the schemes of the church, was cheap indeed. Theministers said so, of course they knew, and why was he to objectbecause the burden was light? He could but support his church all themore warmly if its yoke was easy, and he would do his very best forits advancement.

  Rumours about strange conduct on the part of the minister had begun tosift and whisper through the village. With whom they had originated noone could say; known circumstances were appealed to in corroboration,and every one shook his head; but there was no one who stood forwardas accuser, and each seemed afraid of the sound of his own voice, inuttering the first word against their hitherto blameless pastor.

  Ebenezer having shut up the Post Office had walked along the road tobreathe the evening air before retiring for the night. He mused overthe rumour as he went, and when Joseph, returning from the 'tent'appeared before him, it was but natural that the subject in histhoughts should come first to his lips.

  'What's a' this clashin' about? Joseph Smiley. Ye beut to ken.'

  'What clashes, Mester Prittie? Folk wull be aye claverin' ye ken. An'them 'at kens least has aye maist to say about it. For mysel' it taksa' my sma' wuts to mind my ain business.'

  'Nae doubt, Joseph, we a' ken ye for a dacent man, an' a quiet; but abody canna keep a calm sough a' thegither in sic like on-gaein's aswe're hearing tell o' noo. An' a body has aye their lugs, whether orno.'

  'I hae heard tell o' naething, Mester Prittie; but than, ye see, I'mbut an orra body rinnin' efter my ain bit trokes, a' round thecountryside; an' ye're sittin' yonder e'y middle o' a' thing--theQueen's mails brocht in twice ilka
day, an' a' body 'at's onybodyrinnin' to ye for their letters. Ye're sure to ken a thing 'at gangson.'

  We a' ken ye for a dacent, carefu' spoken chield, weel eneugh, Joseph,sae ye needna be aye mindin' folk o't. An' losh! What gars ye be saeterrible mim? There's a time to keep yer jaws steekit, we a' ken that,but there's a time to let on as weel! Sae out wi't a' man!'

  'Ye maun out wi't yersel, Mester Prittie! For De'il tak me, (but theLord forgie me for swearin'! tho' efter a' it's but the De'il's nameI'm makin' a bauchil o',) gin I ken what ye're efter, wi' yer winkin'san' yer hirselin's o' the shouther. Juist say what's yer wull, MesterPrittie, an' gin a puir chield can pleesure ye I'se do't. Ayepremeesin' ye ken, 'at it's the thing a gude christian an' an honestman may lawfully perform.'

  'Ou ay! A' lawfu' eneugh, Joseph! What tak ye me for, laddie? gin theQueen can lippen to me about her mails, it's surely a' safe for JosephSmiley wi' his bits o' trokes and clashes. But come in by!' Ebenezerhad turned round on accosting Joseph, and had been retracing his stepsever since. They were now in front of the Post Office, and Ebenezerunlocking the door invited Joseph to enter, that they might finishtheir conversation without fear of interruption.'

  'An' noo, Joseph, what's a' about the minister? an' what hae ye to sayower't?'

  'What about the minister?--forby 'at he has the cauld? MistressSangster fell in a burn, an' he beut to pu' her out; an' she bein' amuckle denty wife, an' rael hefty, he coupet in himsel an' got sairdroukit, an' noo he's lyin' wi' the cauld. I see sma' grundlforclashes there.'

  Hoot! ye're no sae simple as ye wad let on! An' it diz na look weel o'ye, Joseph, bein' sae terrible keen to gar folk think ye ken naething.Ye'll hae them jalousin' ye had a finger intil't yersel, my man. Wha'sacht yon bairn o' the minister's?'

  'I ken naething mair about it nor ither folk! Ye ken as weel as mewhat he said about it himsel'.'

  'An' do ye ken 'at folk says it's Tibbie Tirpie's bairn, an' that he'sits faither?'

  I hae heard tell 'at folk was sayin' that; but we a' ken there's folke'y warld wad say onything, an' the dafter it was, the mair they'dhaud til't. Do ye believe it yersel', Mester Prittie?'

  Weel! that's juist what I dinna ken! Whiles, whan I think o' a' theminister has dune an' come through, I canna believe it ava'; but than,what a' body says maun hae something intil 't, an' they hae sae monysma' things to lay thegither, a body canna weel help misdoubtin' butthere may be something intil 't. An' ye ken, efter a', the flesh isbut wake!'

  'Hech sirse, ay! rael wake,' sighed Joseph, with a most melancholyswing of the head. 'Rael wake! we hae Scriptur for that. The apostlehimself fand the evil praisent with him, whan he maist wanted to dogude, an' _he_ was gude by ordnar. It's little winder gin the lavegangs wrang whiles. It's juist a dispensation, as ane micht say, or akind o' warnin' to folk no to be ower sure an' sotten up i' their aingudeness. Weel I wat we're wake craiters!'

  'But what think ye o't, Joseph? Ye're a man o' sense, an' I'd like tilhear yer opeenion.'

  'A weel, Mr. Prittie, I'm juist like yersel', I dinna weel ken what tothink. I've fand him a gude maister, an' he's a fine preacher, an' a'the Hieland folk says he has the Gaelic juist graund, an' he's raelgude to a' body 'at's needin'; but as ye say yersel', the flesh iswake.'

  'An' ye see,' said Ebenezer, 'it's sing'lar whan ye pet that an' thatthegither, the way it a' fits in. Peter Malloch telled me 'at auldTibbie Tirpie brocht in a pound note o' the Peterhead Bank the verraday efter he seed the minister slinkin' oot o' her door efter dark,an' we a' ken naebody passes thae notes here ava, but him. I'm fear'd,Joseph, there's something intil 't. An' hoo cud it come intil a'body's head at ae time, gin there wasna some foundation?'

  'Lordsake, ay, Mester Prittie! There's aye water whaur the stirk'sdrooned, we a' ken that, an' there's nae reek athout burnin'. But isna't a' terrible? Sic a fine young minister! an' sic doon-come t'eyKirk! Ickeybod! Ickeybod! wae's me!'

  'Na, na. There maun be nae Ickeybod! An' nae wite te'y Kirk. Ilkasinner maun bear his ain laid, an' Auchan maun be peuten furth fraethe congregation o' the Lord. We maun hae't a' up afore the session!an' Joseph, ye'll hae til appear, an' testifee til a' ye ken. We beutto hae this Babylonish gaarment cousten out e'y camp!'

  'Preserve us a'! Mester Prittie, it's you 'at beut to testifee; ye kena' about it, I ken naething.'

  'Wha said Ickeybod ey noo? Was that me? An' what meaned ye by't, ginye winna staund to yer word?'

  'An' wad ye hae me say Ickeybod to the Kirk Session? An' what wad Isay syne? I cud say what ye telled me, Mester Prittie, 'at ye thochtthe lassie Tirpie was the mither o' the minister's bairn, but I kennaething mysel'.'

  'An' what for wad ye pu' me intil't a'?'

  'It was ye telled me, Mester Prittie; noo wha telled you?'

  'Faigs an' that's mair nor I ken mysel'. We maun hae a quiet meetin'o' the session, an' gang ower't a' first, an' aiblins we'll ken whatto do syne; for there's nae man of Belil sall sit e'y tabernacle gin Ican pu' him doon.'

  'An ye, hae raison, Mester Prittie! Pu' doon their high places, an'burn their groves wi' fire. It's a' Scriptur an' sound doctrine. ButI'm sayin', sir, hae ye been round to speer for the minister the day?An' hoo are ye gaun to manage for the morn's Kirk?'

  'Weel I wat, an' ye hae me there, Joseph. Ye see I juist cudna bringmysel' to gang an' be speerin' for a man whan the folk says he'slivin' in open sin. There's nae tellin' what micht come til the skirtso' my ain garment! as ye were sayin' e'y noo, the folk's that set ontheir reports an' their rumours, there's nae kennin' whaur the nextflee may licht; an'--Lord! they micht hae a body's sel' kirned up wi'ta'! An' then! think o' me to be taen by the folk for an ill liver.Spoken o' for keepin' company wi' the evil men an' seducers 'at waxworse an' worse, as the word says. An' gin I gaed hame syne, the wifewad be for pu'in the wig aff my cantle, an' layin' the spurtle aboutmy bare lugs; for she's no for prankin' wi' that gate, _my_ mistress!A gude wummin I'll allow, a' the same, but juist terrible on a' illdoin, an' licht on-gaein's. But we maun hae a thocht to the serviceso' the Sanctuary the morn, an' no hae the folk comin' to the ministryo' the word, an' nae banquet ready for their hungry sauls. We'd haethem stravaigin' the braesides the lieve lang Sawbith day, like puirmenseless sheep that hae na gotten a shepherd. Sae, gin ye'll come wi'me, for fear o' pryin eyen, we'se gang round an' see hoo we'llarrange.'

  'As they sallied forth they encountered Peter Malloch taking hisevening stroll. For once Ebenezer was well pleased at the meeting, andresolved that Peter too should accompany them, and be another witnessto the conservation undefiled of his skirts--a purely poetical figureby the way, for he wore a sort of jacket, his wife and tailoress beingeconomical of cloth. The article of dress was, in fact, that which hisbetters of an earlier generation were wont to denominate a spencer.

  It required no pressing to secure Peter's company. He scentedpromotion in being thus associated with one of the eldership, inchurch business, and it seemed a first step upwards from the Deacons'Court to the sacred college of the Kirk-session. Under othercircumstances this honour would have been carefully withheld, forPeter's popularity among the church officers was not great. To useEbenezer's own words on another occasion, 'He's a gude man, an' aleeberal, but oh! he's a meddlin' body.' Ebenezer's skirts, however,were uppermost in his thoughts then, and their invisible foldssufficed to cover many an objection from his view.

  Reaching the minister's door, they found Miss Brown in the act ofdismissing the surgeon. Her brother had at last fallen asleep with theassistance of an opiate, and he was not on any pretext whatever, sosaid the Doctor, to be disturbed. Miss Brown led them into EppieNess's apartment, where that good soul was sitting with the baby inher arms.

  Ebenezer regarded the poor child fixedly, and gasped in hisindignation. How could he think, or arrange for the ministrations ofthe sanctuary in the very presence of that child of confusion? Hisbrow darkened, and no one can guess what eloquent utterance he mightnot have given forth, if Mary Brown with her pleasant smile, had notpointed to a chair for him to s
it down, and asked what arrangements heproposed to make for the church supply on the morrow.

  As when, on the aching head of a fevered invalid buzzing with athousand delirious fancies, a cool soft hand is laid, banishing uneasynightmares, and bringing back the patient to waking common sense, evenso the innocent friendliness of Mary's glance dissipated the wholeswarm of crazy suspicions for the moment, and brought Ebenezer'sthoughts back to their wonted wholesome tenor; and though the littlething crowed in its nurse's arms more than once, he forgot about itsbeing perhaps an imp, or at any rate something unholy, and would evenhave admitted in words that it was a 'bonny bairn,' but that PeterMalloch sat at his elbow.

  The minister had been looking to see some of his elders all theafternoon, and in the end had jotted down on paper his desire that Mr.Sangster, Mr. Prittie, and another of the elders should each give aprayer, and that Ebenezer should read to the people a chapter of theSaints' Rest, as a substitute for the usual sermon, and call a meetingof the Session and Deacons' Court for Monday evening. There was nobusiness therefore to transact, Joseph was despatched to Auchlippiewith the message for Mr. Sangster, and the others withdrew.

  Ebenezer felt relieved when he was once more in the open air and therewas no further possibility of an interview with the minister, for hehad thought it would be but right, and accordingly had screwed up hiscourage to say a word in season if the opportunity should occur. Atthe same time he was full of dread as to how it would be taken; indeedhe could conceive of no possible way in which it could be taken thatwould not be unpleasant, and therefore he felt positively rejoicedwhen the danger was past. Nothing disagreeable had happened, and yethe could stand up boldly before his conscience, as one who had notshirked a duty however painful; and when, in the privacy of his home,he went over the events of the day, he was indeed a proud man underthe praises which that incarnate conscience, the wife of his bosom,bestowed upon her steadfast and faithful Ebenezer.