The causelessness of all this fuff stirred my own bile. "I have
said nothing you can properly object to," said I, "and as for my
knees, that is an attitude I keep for God."
"And as a goddess I am to be served!" she cried, shaking her brown
locks at me and with a bright colour. "Every man that comes within
waft of my petticoats shall use me so!"
"I will go so far as ask your pardon for the fashion's sake,
although I vow I know not why," I replied. "But for these play-
acting postures, you can go to others."
"O Davie!" she said. "Not if I was to beg you?"
I bethought me I was fighting with a woman, which is the same as to
say a child, and that upon a point entirely formal.
"I think it a bairnly thing," I said, "not worthy in you to ask, or
me to render. Yet I will not refuse you, neither," said I; "and
the stain, if there be any, rests with yourself." And at that I
kneeled fairly down.
"There!" she cried. "There is the proper station, there is where I
have been manoeuvring to bring you." And then, suddenly, "Kep,"
{21} said she, flung me a folded billet, and ran from the apartment
laughing.
The billet had neither place nor date. "Dear Mr. David," it began,
"I get your news continually by my cousin, Miss Grant, and it is a
pleisand hearing. I am very well, in a good place, among good
folk, but necessitated to be quite private, though I am hoping that
at long last we may meet again. All your friendships have been
told me by my loving cousin, who loves us both. She bids me to
send you this writing, and oversees the same. I will be asking you
to do all her commands, and rest your affectionate friend, Catriona
Macgregor-Drummond. P.S.--Will you not see my cousin, Allardyce?"
I think it not the least brave of my campaigns (as the soldiers
say) that I should have done as I was here bidden and gone
forthright to the house by Dean. But the old lady was now entirely
changed and supple as a glove. By what means Miss Grant had
brought this round I could never guess; I am sure, at least, she
dared not to appear openly in the affair, for her papa was
compromised in it pretty deep. It was he, indeed, who had
persuaded Catriona to leave, or rather, not to return, to her
cousin's, placing her instead with a family of Gregorys--decent
people, quite at the Advocate's disposition, and in whom she might
have the more confidence because they were of his own clan and
family. These kept her private till all was ripe, heated and
helped her to attempt her father's rescue, and after she was
discharged from prison received her again into the same secrecy.
Thus Prestongrange obtained and used his instrument; nor did there
leak out the smallest word of his acquaintance with the daughter of
James More. There was some whispering, of course, upon the escape
of that discredited person; but the Government replied by a show of
rigour, one of the cell porters was flogged, the lieutenant of the
guard (my poor friend, Duncansby) was broken of his rank, and as
for Catriona, all men were well enough pleased that her fault
should be passed by in silence.
I could never induce Miss Grant to carry back an answer. "No," she
would say, when I persisted, "I am going to keep the big feet out
of the platter." This was the more hard to bear, as I was aware
she saw my little friend many times in the week, and carried her my
news whenever (as she said) I "had behaved myself." At last she
treated me to what she called an indulgence, and I thought rather
more of a banter. She was certainly a strong, almost a violent,
friend to all she liked, chief among whom was a certain frail old
gentlewoman, very blind and very witty, who dwelt on the top of a
tall land on a strait close, with a nest of linnets in a cage, and
thronged all day with visitors. Miss Grant was very fond to carry
me there and put me to entertain her friend with the narrative of
my misfortunes: and Miss Tibbie Ramsay (that was her name) was
particular kind, and told me a great deal that was worth knowledge
of old folks and past affairs in Scotland.