So there was the final upshot of my politics! Innocent men have
perished before James, and are like to keep on perishing (in spite
of all our wisdom) till the end of time. And till the end of time
young folk (who are not yet used with the duplicity of life and
men) will struggle as I did, and make heroical resolves, and take
long risks; and the course of events will push them upon the one
side and go on like a marching army. James was hanged; and here
was I dwelling in the house of Prestongrange, and grateful to him
for his fatherly attention. He was hanged; and behold! when I met
Mr. Simon in the causeway, I was fain to pull off my beaver to him
like a good little boy before his dominie. He had been hanged by
fraud and violence, and the world wagged along, and there was not a
pennyweight of difference; and the villains of that horrid plot
were decent, kind, respectable fathers of families, who went to
kirk and took the sacrament!
But I had had my view of that detestable business they call
politics--I had seen it from behind, when it is all bones and
blackness; and I was cured for life of any temptations to take part
in it again. A plain, quiet, private path was that which I was
ambitious to walk in, when I might keep my head out of the way of
dangers and my conscience out of the road of temptation. For, upon
a retrospect, it appeared I had not done so grandly, after all; but
with the greatest possible amount of big speech and preparation,
had accomplished nothing.
The 25th of the same month a ship was advertised to sail from
Leith; and I was suddenly recommended to make up my mails for
Leyden. To Prestongrange I could, of course, say nothing; for I
had already been a long while sorning on his house and table. But
with his daughter I was more open, bewailing my fate that I should
be sent out of the country, and assuring her, unless she should
bring me to farewell with Catriona, I would refuse at the last
hour.
"Have I not given you my advice?" she asked.
"I know you have," said I, "and I know how much I am beholden to
you already, and that I am bidden to obey your orders. But you
must confess you are something too merry a lass at times to lippen
{23} to entirely."
"I will tell you, then," said she. "Be you on board by nine
o'clock forenoon; the ship does not sail before one; keep your boat
alongside; and if you are not pleased with my farewells when I
shall send them, you can come ashore again and seek Katrine for
yourself."
Since I could make no more of her, I was fain to be content with
this.
The day came round at last when she and I were to separate. We had
been extremely intimate and familiar; I was much in her debt; and
what way we were to part was a thing that put me from my sleep,
like the vails I was to give to the domestic servants. I knew she
considered me too backward, and rather desired to rise in her
opinion on that head. Besides which, after so much affection shown
and (I believe) felt upon both sides, it would have looked cold-
like to be anyways stiff. Accordingly, I got my courage up and my
words ready, and the last chance we were like to be alone, asked
pretty boldly to be allowed to salute her in farewell.
"You forget yourself strangely, Mr. Balfour," said she. "I cannot
call to mind that I have given you any right to presume on our
acquaintancy."
I stood before her like a stopped clock, and knew not what to
think, far less to say, when of a sudden she cast her arms about my
neck and kissed me with the best will in the world.
"You inimitable bairn?" she cried. "Did you think that I would let
us part like strangers? Because I can never keep my gravity at you
five minutes on end, you must not dream I do not love you very
well: I am all love and laughter, every time I cast an eye on you!
And now I will give you an advice to conclude your education, which
you will have need of before it's very long.