CHAPTER XXVII--A TWOSOME
I believe it was about the fifth day, and I know at least that
James was in one of his fits of gloom, when I received three
letters. The first was from Alan, offering to visit me in Leyden;
the other two were out of Scotland and prompted by the same affair,
which was the death of my uncle and my own complete accession to my
rights. Rankeillor's was, of course, wholly in the business view;
Miss Grant's was like herself, a little more witty than wise, full
of blame to me for not having written (though how was I to write
with such intelligence?) and of rallying talk about Catriona, which
it cut me to the quick to read in her very presence.
For it was of course in my own rooms that I found them, when I came
to dinner, so that I was surprised out of my news in the very first
moment of reading it. This made a welcome diversion for all three
of us, nor could any have foreseen the ill consequences that
ensued. It was accident that brought the three letters the same
day, and that gave them into my hand in the same room with James
More; and of all the events that flowed from that accident, and
which I might have prevented if I had held my tongue, the truth is
that they were preordained before Agricola came into Scotland or
Abraham set out upon his travels.
The first that I opened was naturally Alan's; and what more natural
than that I should comment on his design to visit me? but I
observed James to sit up with an air of immediate attention.
"Is that not Alan Breck that was suspected of the Appin accident?"
he inquired.
I told him, "Ay," it was the same; and he withheld me some time
from my other letters, asking of our acquaintance, of Alan's manner
of life in France, of which I knew very little, and further of his
visit as now proposed.
"All we forfeited folk hang a little together," he explained, "and
besides I know the gentleman: and though his descent is not the
thing, and indeed he has no true right to use the name of Stewart,
he was very much admired in the day of Drummossie. He did there
like a soldier; if some that need not be named had done as well,
the upshot need not have been so melancholy to remember. There
were two that did their best that day, and it makes a bond between
the pair of us," says he.
I could scarce refrain from shooting out my tongue at him, and
could almost have wished that Alan had been there to have inquired
a little further into that mention of his birth. Though, they tell
me, the same was indeed not wholly regular.
Meanwhile, I had opened Miss Grant's, and could not withhold an
exclamation.
"Catriona," I cried, forgetting, the first time since her father
was arrived, to address her by a handle, "I am come into my kingdom
fairly, I am the laird of Shaws indeed--my uncle is dead at last."
She clapped her hands together leaping from her seat. The next
moment it must have come over both of us at once what little cause
of joy was left to either, and we stood opposite, staring on each
other sadly.
But James showed himself a ready hypocrite. "My daughter," says
he, "is this how my cousin learned you to behave? Mr. David has
lost a new friend, and we should first condole with him on his
bereavement."
"Troth, sir," said I, turning to him in a kind of anger, "I can
make no such great faces. His death is as blithe news as ever I
got."
"It's a good soldier's philosophy," says James. "'Tis the way of
flesh, we must all go, all go. And if the gentleman was so far
from your favour, why, very well! But we may at least congratulate
you on your accession to your estates."
"Nor can I say that either," I replied, with the same heat. "It is
a good estate; what matters that to a lone man that has enough
already? I had a good revenue before in my frugality; and but for
the man's death--which gratifies me, shame to me that must confess
it!--I see not how anyone is to be bettered by this change."
"Come, come," said he, "you are more affected than you let on, or
you would never make yourself out so lonely.