James Hogg: Collected Novels, Scottish Mystery Tales & Fantasy Stories. James Hogg

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СКАЧАТЬ the cords of this wicked man, and therefore was obliged to call out lustily for assistance. The weaver came half naked, unlocked the door, and, setting in his head and long neck, accosted me thus:

      “What now, Mr. Satan? What for art ye roaring that gate? Are you fawn inna little hell, instead o’ the big muckil ane? Deil be in your reistit trams! What for have ye abscondit yoursel into ma leddy’s wab for?”

      “Friend, I beg your pardon,” said I. “I wanted to be at the light, and have somehow unfortunately involved myself in the intricacies of your web, from which I cannot get dear without doing you a great injury. Pray do lend your experienced hand to extricate me.”

      “May aw the pearls o’ damnation light on your silly snout, an I dinna estricat ye weel enough! Ye ditit donnart, deil’s burd that ye be! What made ye gang howkin in there to be a poor man’s ruin? Come out, ye vile rag-of-a-muffin, or I gar ye come out wi’ mair shame and disgrace, an’ fewer haill banes in your body.”

      My feet had slipped down through the double warpings of a web, and not being able to reach the ground with them (there being a small pit below) I rode upon a number of yielding threads, and, there being nothing else that I could reach, to extricate myself was impossible. I was utterly powerless; and, besides, the yarn and cords hurt me very much. For all that, the destructive weaver seized a loom-spoke, and began a-beating me most unmercifully, while, entangled as I was, I could do nothing but shout aloud for mercy, or assistance, whichever chanced to be within hearing. The latter at length made its appearance in the form of the weaver’s wife, in the same state of dishabille with himself, who instantly interfered, and that most strenuously, on my behalf. Before her arrival, however, I had made a desperate effort to throw myself out of the entanglement I was in; for the weaver continued repeating his blows and cursing me so that I determined to get out of his meshes at any risk. The effect made my case worse; for, my feet being wrapt among the nether threads, as I threw myself from my saddle on the upper ones, my feet brought the others up through these, and I hung with my head down and my feet as firm as they had been in a vice. The predicament of the web being thereby increased, the weaver’s wrath was doubled in proportion, and he laid on without mercy.

      At this critical juncture the wife arrived, and without hesitation rushed before her offended lord, withholding his hand from injuring me further, although then it was uplifted along with the loom-spoke in overbearing ire. “Dear Johnny! I think ye be gaen dementit this morning. Be quiet, my dear, an’ dinna begin a Boddel Brigg business in your ain house. What for ir ye persecutin’ a servant o’ the Lord’s that gate, an’ pitting the life out o’ him wi’ his head down an’ his heels up?”

      “Had ye said a servant o’ the Deil’s, Nans, ye wad hae been nearer the nail, for gin he binna the Auld Ane himsel, he’s gayan sib till him. There, didna I lock him in on purpose to bring the military on him; an’ in the place o’ that, hasna he keepit me in a sleep a’ this while as deep as death? An’ here do I find him abscondit like a speeder i’ the mids o’ my leddy’s wab, an’ me dreamin’ a’ the night that I had the Deil i’ my house, an’ that he was clapper-clawin me ayont the loom. Have at you, ye brunstane thief!” and, in spite of the good woman’s struggles, he lent me another severe blow.

      “Now, Johnny Dods, my man! oh, Johnny Dods, think if that be like a Christian, and ane o’ the heroes o’ Boddel Brigg, to entertain a stranger, an’ then bind him in a web wi’ his head down, an’ mell him to death! oh, Johnny Dods, think what you are about! Slack a pin, an’ let the good honest religious lad out.”

      The weaver was rather overcome, but still stood to his point that I was the Deil, though in better temper; and, as he slackened the web to release me, he remarked, half laughing: “Wha wad hae thought that John Dods should hae escapit a’ the snares an’ dangers that circumfauldit him, an’ at last should hae weaved a net to catch the Deil.”

      The wife released me soon, and carefully whispered me, at the same time, that it would be as well for me to dress and be going. I was not long in obeying, and dressed myself in my black clothes, hardly knowing what I did, what to think, or whither to betake myself. I was sore hurt by the blows of the desperate ruffian; and, what was worse, my ankle was so much strained that I could hardly set my foot to the ground. I was obliged to apply to the weaver once more, to see if I could learn anything about my clothes, or how the change was effected. “Sir,” said I, “how comes it that you have robbed me of my clothes, and put these down in their place over night?”

      “Ha! thae claes? Me pit down the claes!” said he, gaping with astonishment, and touching the clothes with the point of his forefinger. “I never saw them afore, as I have death to meet wi’, so help me God!”

      He strode into the work-house where I slept, to satisfy himself that my clothes were not there, and returned perfectly aghast with consternation. “The doors were baith fast lockit,” said he. “I could hae defied a rat either to hae gotten out or in. My dream has been true! My dream has been true! The Lord judge between thee and me; but in His name, I charge you to depart out o’ this house; an’, gin it be your will, dinna tak the braidside o’t w’ye, but gang quietly out at the door wi’ your face foremost. Wife, let naught o’ this enchanter’s remain i’ the house, to be a curse, an’ a snare to us; gang an’ bring him his gildit weapon, an’ may the Lord protect a’ his ain against its hellish an’ deadly point!”

      The wife went to seek my poniard, trembling so excessively that she could hardly walk, and, shortly after, we heard a feeble scream from the pantry. The weapon had disappeared with the clothes, though under double lock and key; and, the terror of the good people having now reached a disgusting extremity, I thought proper to make a sudden retreat, followed by the weaver’s anathemas.

      My state both of body and mind was now truly deplorable. I was hungry, wounded, and lame, an outcast and a vagabond in society; my life sought after with avidity, and all for doing that to which I was predestined by Him who fore-ordains whatever comes to pass. I knew not whither to betake me. I had purposed going into England and there making some use of the classical education I had received, but my lameness rendered this impracticable for the present. I was therefore obliged to turn my face towards Edinburgh, where I was little known—where concealment was more practicable than by skulking in the country, and where I might turn my mind to something that was great and good. I had a little money, both Scotch and English, now in my possession, but not one friend in the whole world on whom I could rely. One devoted friend, it is true, I had, but he was become my greatest terror. To escape from him, I now felt that I would willingly travel to the farthest corners of the world, and be subjected to every deprivation; but after the certainty of what had taken place last night, after I had travelled thirty miles by secret and by-ways, I saw not how escape from him was possible.

      Miserable, forlorn, and dreading every person that I saw, either behind or before me, I hasted on towards Edinburgh, taking all the by and unfrequented paths; and, the third night after I left the weaver’s house, I reached the West Port, without meeting with anything remarkable. Being exceedingly fatigued and lame, I took lodgings in the first house I entered, and for these I was to pay two groats a week, and to board and sleep with a young man who wanted a companion to make his rent easier. I liked this; having found from experience that the great personage who had attached himself to me, and was now become my greatest terror among many surrounding evils, generally haunted me when I was alone keeping aloof from all other society.

      My fellow lodger came home in the evening, and was glad at my coming. His name was Linton, and I changed mine to Elliot. He was a flippant unstable being, one on whom nothing appeared a difficulty, in his own estimation, but who could effect very little after all. He was what is called by some a compositor, in the Queen’s printing house, then conducted by a Mr. James Watson. In the course of our conversation that night, I told him I was a first-rate classical scholar, and would gladly turn my attention to some business wherein my education might avail me something; and СКАЧАТЬ