"To-morrow," he resumed, "our business here is to be finished, and
I proceed by Glasgow. I would be very glad to have you of my
party, Mr David."
"My lord . . ." I began.
"I do not deny it will be of service to me," he interrupted. "I
desire even that, when we shall come to Edinburgh, you should
alight at my house. You have very warm friends in the Miss Grants,
who will be overjoyed to have you to themselves. If you think I
have been of use to you, you can thus easily repay me, and so far
from losing, may reap some advantage by the way. It is not every
strange young man who is presented in society by the King's
Advocate."
Often enough already (in our brief relations) this gentleman had
caused my head to spin; no doubt but what for a moment he did so
again now. Here was the old fiction still maintained of my
particular favour with his daughters, one of whom had been so good
as to laugh at me, while the other two had scarce deigned to remark
the fact of my existence. And now I was to ride with my lord to
Glasgow; I was to dwell with him in Edinburgh; I was to be brought
into society under his protection! That he should have so much
good-nature as to forgive me was surprising enough; that he could
wish to take me up and serve me seemed impossible; and I began to
seek some ulterior meaning. One was plain. If I became his guest,
repentance was excluded; I could never think better of my present
design and bring any action. And besides, would not my presence in
his house draw out the whole pungency of the memorial? For that
complaint could not be very seriously regarded, if the person
chiefly injured was the guest of the official most incriminated.
As I thought upon this I could not quite refrain from smiling.
"This is in the nature of a countercheck to the memorial?" said I.
"You are cunning, Mr. David," said he, "and you do not wholly guess
wrong the fact will be of use to me in my defence. Perhaps,
however, you underrate friendly sentiments, which are perfectly
genuine. I have a respect for you, David, mingled with awe," says
he, smiling.
"I am more than willing, I am earnestly desirous to meet your
wishes," said I. "It is my design to be called to the Bar, where
your lordship's countenance would be invaluable; and I am besides
sincerely grateful to yourself and family for different marks of
interest and of indulgence. The difficulty is here. There is one
point in which we pull two ways. You are trying to hang James
Stewart, I am trying to save him. In so far as my riding with you
would better your lordship's defence, I am at your lordships
orders; but in so far as it would help to hang James Stewart, you
see me at a stick."
I thought he swore to himself. "You should certainly be called;
the Bar is the true scene for your talents," says he, bitterly, and
then fell a while silent. "I will tell you," he presently resumed,
"there is no question of James Stewart, for or against, James is a
dead man; his life is given and taken--bought (if you like it
better) and sold; no memorial can help--no defalcation of a
faithful Mr. David hurt him. Blow high, blow low, there will be no
pardon for James Stewart: and take that for said! The question is
now of myself: am I to stand or fall? and I do not deny to you
that I am in some danger. But will Mr. David Balfour consider why?
It is not because I pushed the case unduly against James; for that,
I am sure of condonation. And it is not because I have sequestered
Mr. David on a rock, though it will pass under that colour; but
because I did not take the ready and plain path, to which I was
pressed repeatedly, and send Mr. David to his grave or to the
gallows. Hence the scandal--hence this damned memorial," striking
the paper on his leg. "My tenderness for you has brought me in
this difficulty. I wish to know if your tenderness to your own
conscience is too great to let you help me out of it."
No doubt but there was much of the truth in what he said; if James
was past helping, whom was it more natural that I should turn to
help than just the man before me, who had helped myself so often,
and was even now setting me a pattern of patience? I was besides
not only weary, but beginning to be ashamed, of my perpetual
attitude of suspicion and refusal
"If you will name the time and place, I will be punctually ready to
attend your lordship," said I.