Catriona. Robert Louis Stevenson

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СКАЧАТЬ than this morning by another lawyer.’

      ‘And who was he?’ asked Stewart. ‘He spoke sense at least.’

      I told I must be excused from naming him, for he was a decent stout old Whig, and had little mind to be mixed up in such affairs.

      ‘I think all the world seems to be mixed up in it!’ cries Stewart. ‘But what said you?’

      I told him what had passed between Rankeillor and myself before the house of Shaws.

      ‘Well, and so ye will hang!’ said he.’ Ye’ll hang beside James Stewart. There’s your fortune told.’

      ‘I hope better of it yet than that,’ said I; ‘but I could never deny there was a risk.’

      ‘Risk!’ says he, and then sat silent again. ‘I ought to thank you for your staunchness to my friends, to whom you show a very good spirit,’ he says, ‘if you have the strength to stand by it. But I warn you that you’re wading deep. I wouldn’t put myself in your place (me that’s a Stewart born!) for all the Stewarts that ever there were since Noah. Risk? ay, I take over-many: but to be tried in court before a Campbell jury and a Campbell judge, and that in a Campbell country and upon a Campbell quarrel—think what you like of me, Balfour, it’s beyond me.’

      ‘It’s a different way of thinking, I suppose,’ said I; ‘I was brought up to this one by my father before me.’

      ‘Glory to his bones! he has left a decent son to his name,’ says he. ‘Yet I would not have you judge me over-sorely. My case is dooms hard. See, sir, ye tell me ye’re a Whig: I wonder what I am. No Whig to be sure; I couldnae be just that. But—laigh in your ear, man—I’m maybe no very keen on the other side.’

      ‘Is that a fact?’ cried I. ‘It’s what I would think of a man of your intelligence.’

      ‘Hut! none of your whillywhas!’ cries he. ‘There’s intelligence upon both sides. But for my private part I have no particular desire to harm King George; and as for King James, God bless him! he does very well for me across the water. I’m a lawyer, ye see: fond of my books and my bottle, a good plea, a well-drawn deed, a crack in the Parliament House with other lawyer bodies, and perhaps a turn at the golf on a Saturday at e’en. Where do ye come in with your Hieland plaids and claymores?’

      ‘Well,’ said I, ‘it’s a fact ye have little of the wild Highlandman.’

      ‘Little?’ quoth he. ‘Nothing, man! And yet I’m Hieland born, and when the clan pipes, who but me has to dance? The clan and the name, that goes by all. It’s just what you said yourself; my father learned it to me, and a bonny trade I have of it. Treason and traitors, and the smuggling of them out and in; and the French recruiting, weary fall it! and the smuggling through of the recruits; and their pleas—a sorrow of their pleas! Here have I been moving one for young Ardshiel, my cousin; claimed the estate under the marriage contract—a forfeited estate! I told them it was nonsense: muckle they cared! And there was I cocking behind a yadvocate that liked the business as little as myself, for it was fair ruin to the pair of us—a black mark, disaffected, branded on our hurdies like folk’s names upon their kye! And what can I do? I’m a Stewart, ye see, and must fend for my clan and family. Then no later by than yesterday there was one of our Stewart lads carried to the Castle. What for? I ken fine: Act of 1736: recruiting for King Lewie. And you’ll see, he’ll whistle me in to be his lawyer, and there’ll be another black mark on my chara’ter! I tell you fair: if I but kent the heid of a Hebrew word from the hurdies of it, be dammed but I would fling the whole thing up and turn minister!’

      ‘It’s rather a hard position,’ said I.

      ‘Dooms hard!’ cries he. ‘And that’s what makes me think so much of ye—you that’s no Stewart—to stick your head so deep in Stewart business. And for what, I do not know: unless it was the sense of duty.’

      ‘I hope it will be that,’ said I.

      ‘Well,’ says he, ‘it’s a grand quality. But here is my clerk back; and, by your leave, we’ll pick a bit of dinner, all the three of us. When that’s done, I’ll give you the direction of a very decent man, that’ll be very fain to have you for a lodger. And I’ll fill your pockets to ye, forbye, out of your ain bag. For this business’ll not be near as dear as ye suppose—not even the ship part of it.’

      I made him a sign that his clerk was within hearing.

      ‘Hoot, ye neednae mind for Robbie,’ cries he. ‘A Stewart, too, puir deevil! and has smuggled out more French recruits and trafficking Papists than what he has hairs upon his face. Why it’s Robin that manages that branch of my affairs. Who will we have now, Rob, for across the water?’

      ‘There’ll be Andie Scougal, in the Thristle,’ replied Rob. ‘I saw Hoseason the other day, but it seems he’s wanting the ship. Then there’ll be Tam Stobo; but I’m none so sure of Tam. I’ve seen him colloguing with some gey queer acquaintances; and if was anybody important, I would give Tam the go-by.’

      ‘The head’s worth two hundred pounds, Robin,’ said Stewart.

      ‘Gosh, that’ll no be Alan Breck?’ cried the clerk.

      ‘Just Alan,’ said his master.

      ‘Weary winds! that’s sayrious,’ cried Robin. ‘I’ll try Andie, then; Andie’ll be the best.’

      ‘It seems it’s quite a big business,’ I observed.

      ‘Mr Balfour, there’s no end to it,’ said Stewart.

      ‘There was a name your clerk mentioned,’ I went on: ‘Hoseason. That must be my man, I think: Hoseason, of the brig Covenant. Would you set your trust on him?’

      ‘He didnae behave very well to you and Alan,’ said Mr Stewart; ‘but my mind of the man in general is rather otherwise. If he had taken Alan on board his ship on an agreement, it’s my notion he would have proved a just dealer. How say ye, Rob?’

      ‘No more honest skipper in the trade than Eli,’ said the clerk. ‘I would lippen to Eli’s word—ay, if it was the Chevalier, or Appin himsel’,’ he added.

      ‘And it was him that brought the doctor, wasnae’t?’ asked the master.

      ‘He was the very man,’ said the clerk.

      ‘And I think he took the doctor back?’ says Stewart.

‘Ay, with his sporran full!’ cried Robin. ‘And Eli kent of that!’*

      ‘Well it seems it’s hard to ken folk rightly,’ said I.

      ‘That was just what I forgot when ye came in, Mr Balfour!’ says the Writer.

* This must have reference to Dr Cameron on his first visit d.b.

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