“I agree to it, sir — I agree to it perfectly,” said Morris, shrinking back as Campbell moved his chair towards him to fortify his appeal —“And I incline, sir,” he added, addressing Mr. Inglewood, “to retract my information as to Mr. Osbaldistone; and I request, sir, you will permit him, sir, to go about his business, and me to go about mine also; your worship may have business to settle with Mr. Campbell, and I am rather in haste to be gone.”
“Then, there go the declarations,” said the Justice, throwing them into the fire —“And now you are at perfect liberty, Mr Osbaldistone. And you, Mr. Morris, are set quite at your ease.”
“Ay,” said Campbell, eyeing Morris as he assented with a rueful grin to the Justice’s observations, “much like the ease of a tod under a pair of harrows — But fear nothing, Mr. Morris; you and I maun leave the house thegither. I will see you safe — I hope you will not doubt my honour, when I say sae — to the next highway, and then we part company; and if we do not meet as friends in Scotland, it will be your ain fault.”
With such a lingering look of terror as the condemned criminal throws, when he is informed that the cart awaits him, Morris arose; but when on his legs, appeared to hesitate. “I tell thee, man, fear nothing,” reiterated Campbell; “I will keep my word with you — Why, thou sheep’s heart, how do ye ken but we may can pick up some speerings of your valise, if ye will be amenable to gude counsel?— Our horses are ready. Bid the Justice fareweel, man, and show your Southern breeding.”
Morris, thus exhorted and encouraged, took his leave, under the escort of Mr. Campbell; but, apparently, new scruples and terrors had struck him before they left the house, for I heard Campbell reiterating assurances of safety and protection as they left the ante-room —“By the soul of my body, man, thou’rt as safe as in thy father’s kailyard — Zounds! that a chield wi’ sic a black beard should hae nae mair heart than a hen-partridge!— Come on wi’ ye, like a frank fallow, anes and for aye.”
The voices died away, and the subsequent trampling of their horses announced to us that they had left the mansion of Justice Inglewood.
The joy which that worthy magistrate received at this easy conclusion of a matter which threatened him with some trouble in his judicial capacity, was somewhat damped by reflection on what his clerk’s views of the transaction might be at his return. “Now, I shall have Jobson on my shoulders about these d — d papers — I doubt I should not have destroyed them, after all — But hang it! it is only paying his fees, and that will make all smooth — And now, Miss Die Vernon, though I have liberated all the others, I intend to sign a writ for committing you to the custody of Mother Blakes, my old housekeeper, for the evening, and we will send for my neighbour Mrs. Musgrave, and the Miss Dawkins, and your cousins, and have old Cobs the fiddler, and be as merry as the maids; and Frank Osbaldistone and I will have a carouse that will make us fit company for you in half-an-hour.”
“Thanks, most worshipful,” returned Miss Vernon; “but, as matters stand, we must return instantly to Osbaldistone Hall, where they do not know what has become of us, and relieve my uncle of his anxiety on my cousin’s account, which is just the same as if one of his own sons were concerned.”
“I believe it truly,” said the Justice; “for when his eldest son, Archie, came to a bad end, in that unlucky affair of Sir John Fenwick’s, old Hildebrand used to hollo out his name as readily as any of the remaining six, and then complain that he could not recollect which of his sons had been hanged. So, pray hasten home, and relieve his paternal solicitude, since go you must. But hark thee hither, heath-blossom,” he said, pulling her towards him by the hand, and in a good-humoured tone of admonition, “another time let the law take its course, without putting your pretty finger into her old musty pie, all full of fragments of law gibberish — French and dog-Latin — And, Die, my beauty, let young fellows show each other the way through the moors, in case you should lose your own road, while you are pointing out theirs, my pretty Will o’ the Wisp.”
With this admonition, he saluted and dismissed Miss Vernon, and took an equally kind farewell of me.
“Thou seems to be a good tight lad, Mr. Frank, and I remember thy father too — he was my playfellow at school. Hark thee, lad,— ride early at night, and don’t swagger with chance passengers on the king’s highway. What, man! all the king’s liege subjects are not bound to understand joking, and it’s ill cracking jests on matters of felony. And here’s poor Die Vernon too — in a manner alone and deserted on the face of this wide earth, and left to ride, and run, and scamper, at her own silly pleasure. Thou must be careful of Die, or, egad, I will turn a young fellow again on purpose, and fight thee myself, although I must own it would be a great deal of trouble. And now, get ye both gone, and leave me to my pipe of tobacco, and my meditations; for what says the song —
The Indian leaf doth briefly burn;
So doth man’s strength to weakness turn
The fire of youth extinguished quite,
Comes age, like embers, dry and white.
Think of this as you take tobacco.”37
I was much pleased with the gleams of sense and feeling which escaped from the Justice through the vapours of sloth and self-indulgence, assured him of my respect to his admonitions, and took a friendly farewell of the honest magistrate and his hospitable mansion.
We found a repast prepared for us in the ante-room, which we partook of slightly, and rejoined the same servant of Sir Hildebrand who had taken our horses at our entrance, and who had been directed, as he informed Miss Vernon, by Mr. Rashleigh, to wait and attend upon us home. We rode a little way in silence, for, to say truth, my mind was too much bewildered with the events of the morning, to permit me to be the first to break it. At length Miss Vernon exclaimed, as if giving vent to her own reflections, “Well, Rashleigh is a man to be feared and wondered at, and all but loved; he does whatever he pleases, and makes all others his puppets — has a player ready to perform every part which he imagines, and an invention and readiness which supply expedients for every emergency.”
“You think, then,” said I, answering rather to her meaning, than to the express words she made use of, “that this Mr. Campbell, whose appearance was so opportune, and who trussed up and carried off my accuser as a falcon trusses a partridge, was an agent of Mr. Rashleigh Osbaldistone’s?”
“I do guess as much,” replied Diana; “and shrewdly suspect, moreover, that he would hardly have appeared so very much in the nick of time, if I had not happened to meet Rashleigh in the hall at the Justice’s.”
“In that case, my thanks are chiefly due to you, my fair preserver.”
“To be sure they are,” returned Diana; “and pray, suppose them paid, and accepted with a gracious smile, for I do not care to be troubled with hearing them in good earnest, and am much more likely to yawn than to behave becoming. In short, Mr. Frank, I wished to serve you, and I have fortunately been able to do so, and have only one favour to ask in return, and that is, that you will say no more about it.— But who comes here to meet us, ‘bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste?’ It is the subordinate man of law, I think — no less than Mr. Joseph Jobson.”
And Mr. Joseph Jobson it proved to be, in great haste, and, as it speedily appeared, in most extreme bad humour. He came up to us, and stopped his horse, as we were about to pass with a slight salutation.
“So, sir — so, Miss Vernon — ay, I see well enough how it