The Candlemass Road. George Fraser MacDonald

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СКАЧАТЬ down, what of thieves riding and a loose fellow in the cellar and my lady to come in, poor soul, that I was troubled for, in to me comes that same Thomas Carleton, Land Sergeant of Gilsland (which is a potent office, like to a petty Warden), and his deputy Yarrow, that had ridden over from Gilsland to give welcome to my lady, as befitted them. This Carleton was a tall smooth man with a sheep’s face, easy and affable enough but cold in the eye, reckoned an expert borderer that knew the hinder-end of all things and how the world wagged, a stout man at war but a politician foremost, that for all his assurance I would have trusted no farther than I might throw Hermitage Keep. He passed for gentry, being of a known family, and discoursed with the nobility or cracked with the commonalty. His underling Yarrow was a border callant with a noisy laugh and an empty head, yet proper in his gait and a fine figure, with much sense of his little office.

      “God send you find the cares of the Church less than I find those of the state, sir priest,” was the Land Sergeant’s greeting to me, whereon I told him that if my cares were less than his, still mine lasted longer, going beyond the grave, to which he answered pleasantly that if I pursued my duties so far I would have hot work of it. So having stropped his wit, he inquired when my lady was expected. “An occasion,” says he, “for ’tis not every day a Dacre comes home.”

      At which Master Hodgson coming out to us said he minded those that had come home other wise, slung like a peddlar’s pack over a saddle-bow, and stiffer than January washing, aye, and with a hole in them made by the Land Sergeant himself, and winked at me.

      “Unseasonable chat,” says Carleton. “Times change, and if every family that I have touched with a sword were still mine enemies, I’d have few friends to count. In the way of business I let daylight in and blood out of Crookback Leonard Dacre in years past, and the land was the better for it. But that’s by-with. Ralph Dacre was a worthy man, we sorted well, and it befits that I give handsel to his grand-daughter, as officer and friend, offering what service I may.”

      I said this was good hearing, since his service was like to be needed, looking keenly on Hodgson as I said it, and he then spoke of the Nixons’ attempt, but reluctantly, it seemed to me. Carleton said he had heard something of this, but it was a scratching affair, a pucker in a corner, and Bell a malcontent whining fellow. “If he has complaint at the Nixons, let him bear it to the Wardens for the next truce day, and get redress. If that likes him not, let him pay his blackmail or face the Nixons sword in hand.” And this was a March officer, bound to keep the peace! But it was “the custom of the country”, so I held my peace, and Hodgson would likewise but that Yarrow made some sneer at him for his fears. “You, bailiff, ye would light the beacon if a reiver let fart within twenty miles,” says he, at which Hodgson in a fine rage called him dandyprat and baboon and I know not what, that knew naught of his office but drink and wenches, and was fit for no more than to cry “Give way!” at Carleton’s elbow. The Land Sergeant stayed their bickering, calling it heat to no purpose.

      “Give my lady a week,” says he, “and if she has half her grandsire’s wit she will whip Geordie Bell and such plaint-mongerers out of the parish.”

      Thus was Bell’s business put by, as of no account, but when Hodgson came to speak of Archie Noble, that lay bound below stairs for pilfering, and suspicion of the horse that he rode, then were the officers all zeal, and Carleton wagged his head very knowing.

      “Wait-about-him Noble,” says he, “a petty trafficker and broken man. I have had my hand near his neck this five year, but never cause to grip him. The horse shall be looked to, there may be others, there may be more. Follow the reek and you’ll find the fire. We have small matters about Gilsland that await answer; he has been about there, he may fit.”

      This incensed me, to hear him so eager after a petty thing that overlooked a greater mischief. “Almost I hear you say ‘He will fit’,” I told him.

      “And if he fits a halter, Father Lewis, it will be of his deserving,” said he. “We know such sturdy rogues, that will neither work nor want, so shall I bear him to Carlisle.”

      “And there he can be borne higher yet,” cries Yarrow, at which callous mockery I turned away from them, yet heard Hodgson, to his credit, intercede again with the Land Sergeant on the matter of the Bells, saying that if he would but send word into Scotland, to them that he knew of, the Nixons might be quieted. But Carleton put him off, saying his word had no weight in Scotland, which was surely a lie, for he was one that had policy and acquaintance everywhere.

      I passed into the house, and presently followed the others, for it was ten o’clock and my lady still stayed for, so the bailiff, to refresh the officers, had wine brought in and a few fruits pitted and wizened with keeping. Master Carleton looked askance with a Heigh-ho and sat him down out of patience, slapping his gloves on his thigh, and spoke crossly of her late coming, for the affairs of the March could not wait, for a lady ever so noble, and “it is the curse of their light living down yonder that they think others have no greater care. Time beats a swifter measure with us than they keep in Greenwich Palace. Aye, well, my masters, she may learn, she may learn.”

      I was so nettled to hear his talk of care, from one that cared not for that he should have cared for, that I said boldly she had much to learn indeed, and the border was like to prove a hard school, where officers turned a blind eye on wrongs done a poor man, with not so much counsel as should stand him in small stead, and little justice save for the rich and strong, and that my heart smote me for her in her inheritance. To which he said but “Chut!” and withered me with his eye. Not so the braggart Yarrow.

      “Gin I had her acres I’d learn me fast enough,” quo’ he. “Devil the broken man or family rider should set hoof on my ground.”

“Fine talk in Askerton Hall,” says Hodgson, that could nowise abide the deputy. “Wait thou, till thou’st ta’en a trod over Hermitage water, and seen Elwood^* lances on the crest at your back, or played cat-and-mouse wi’ Armstrongs in the dark on the Black Lyne—”

      “Sitha, blubberguts,” cries young Yarrow, “I’ve ridden trods enow, and sweated mair blood than thou hast fat, thou tunbelly, thou, and seen your Elwoods and Armstrongs, aye, and seen their backs, too!”

      “Aye, and broke eggs wi’ a stick,” says Hodgson, all a-grin. “Good health, Anton, when next Ewesdale rides your way. By, we’ll see grand things!”

      They might have breathed themselves in such windy exchange, but now came the boy Wattie, flying: “The cotch! The cotch’s coming! Father Lewis, my leddy’s on the hill!” and more, in joyous frenzy, to quiet which I bade him see to the fire, it being near gone out again.

      So we went out to meet her, Yarrow brushing his beard and setting his baldric so, and steel bonnet on his arm, and Hodgson in some trepidation, and myself, but Master Carleton last to rise, most leisurely patient, yet contrived to be ahead of us all, standing forth of the door. And here a great cotch, with postillions but no riders, and the kitchen folk come and the children squeaking, and all on tiptoe to see the great lady from London, with hollering of “A red bull! A red bull!” as though it had been a foray, and not my lady come into her own. Yet it seemed to me she came with no great state, but the one cotch and two postillions, and so through the gate, and Master Carleton ready to doff and be first at the cotch door, and the bailiff coughing at my elbow, hem-hem, and scratching with his feet, and Yarrow all smiles and standing high, and myself afire to see this prodigy so long expected, and yet in the moment, that should have been so glad, felt an oppression of the spirit, I knew not why, unless it was with my contemplating of the sorry condition of all that she came into there. Howbeit, I remembered my office so long neglected, and was a priest again for the time being, though little worthy of that name. And so I fell a-praying for her, and all about me the cry of “A Dacre! A Dacre! A red bull! A СКАЧАТЬ