"I might condescend, exempli gratia, upon a Mr.
George Brown, a Mr. Thomas Miller, and a Mr. David Balfour. Mr.
David Balfour has a very good ground of complaint, and I think,
gentlemen--if his story was properly redd out--I think there would
be a number of wigs on the green."
The whole table turned to him with a common movement.
"Properly handled and carefully redd out, his is a story that could
scarcely fail to have some consequence," he continued. "The whole
administration of justice, from its highest officer downward, would
be totally discredited; and it looks to me as if they would need to
be replaced." He seemed to shine with cunning as he said it. "And
I need not point out to ye that this of Mr. Balfour's would be a
remarkable bonny cause to appear in," he added.
Well, there they all were started on another hare; Mr. Balfour's
cause, and what kind of speeches could be there delivered, and what
officials could be thus turned out, and who would succeed to their
positions. I shall give but the two specimens. It was proposed to
approach Simon Fraser, whose testimony, if it could be obtained,
would prove certainly fatal to Argyle and to Prestongrange. Miller
highly approved of the attempt. "We have here before us a dreeping
roast," said he, "here is cut-and-come-again for all." And
methought all licked their lips. The other was already near the
end. Stewart the Writer was out of the body with delight, smelling
vengeance on his chief enemy, the Duke.
"Gentlemen," cried he, charging his glass, "here is to Sheriff
Miller. His legal abilities are known to all. His culinary, this
bowl in front of us is here to speak for. But when it comes to the
poleetical!"--cries he, and drains the glass.
"Ay, but it will hardly prove politics in your meaning, my friend,"
said the gratified Miller. "A revolution, if you like, and I think
I can promise you that historical writers shall date from Mr.
Balfour's cause. But properly guided, Mr. Stewart, tenderly
guided, it shall prove a peaceful revolution."
"And if the damned Campbells get their ears rubbed, what care I?"
cries Stewart, smiting down his fist.
It will be thought I was not very well pleased with all this,
though I could scarce forbear smiling at a kind of innocency in
these old intriguers. But it was not my view to have undergone so
many sorrows for the advancement of Sheriff Miller or to make a
revolution in the Parliament House: and I interposed accordingly
with as much simplicity of manner as I could assume.
"I have to thank you, gentlemen, for your advice," said I. "And
now I would like, by your leave, to set you two or three questions.
There is one thing that has fallen rather on one aide, for
instance: Will this cause do any good to our friend James of the
Glens?"
They seemed all a hair set back, and gave various answers, but
concurring practically in one point, that James had now no hope but
in the King's mercy.
"To proceed, then," said I, "will it do any good to Scotland? We
have a saying that it is an ill bird that fouls his own nest. I
remember hearing we had a riot in Edinburgh when I was an infant
child, which gave occasion to the late Queen to call this country
barbarous; and I always understood that we had rather lost than
gained by that. Then came the year 'Forty-five, which made
Scotland to be talked of everywhere; but I never heard it said we
had anyway gained by the 'Forty-five. And now we come to this
cause of Mr. Balfour's, as you call it. Sheriff Miller tells us
historical writers are to date from it, and I would not wonder. It
is only my fear they would date from it as a period of calamity and
public reproach."
The nimble-witted Miller had already smelt where I was travelling
to, and made haste to get on the same road. "Forcibly put, Mr.
Balfour," says he. "A weighty observe, sir."
"We have next to ask ourselves if it will be good for King George,"
I pursued.