JjL whether I am honest, or what I am? I may
be the deevil himsell for what ye ken, for he has
power to come disguised like an angel of light;
and, besides, he is a prime fiddler. He played a
sonata to Corelli, ye ken."

There was something odd in this speech, and
the tone in which it was said. It seemed as if my
companion was not always in his constant mind,
or that he was willing to try if he could frighten
me. I laughed at the extravagance of his lan-
guage, however, and asked him in reply if he was
fool enough to believe that the foul fiend would
play so silly a masquerade.

" Ye ken little about it little about it," said the
old man, shaking his head and beard, and knitting
his brows. " I could tell ye something about that."

What his wife mentioned of his being a tale-teller
as well as a musician now occurred to me ; and as,
you know, I like tales of superstition, I begged to
have a specimen of his talent as we went along.

" It is very true," said the blind man, " that
when I am tired of scraping thairm or singing



90 WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

ballants I wniles make a tale serve the turn among
the country bodies; and I have some fearsome
anes, that make the auld carlines shake on the
settle, and the bits o' bairns skirl on their minnies
out frae their beds. But this that I am going to
tell you was a thing that befell in our ain house in
my father's time that is, my father was then a
hafflins callant ; and I tell it to you, that it may be
a lesson to you that are but a young thoughtless
chap, wha ye draw up wi' on a lonely road; for
muckle was the dool and care that came o' 't to my
gudesire."

He commenced his tale accordingly, in a dis-
tinct narrative tone of voice, which he raised and
depressed with considerable skill ; at times sinking
almost into a whisper, and turning his clear but
sightless eyeballs upon my face, as if it had been
possible for him to witness the impression which
his narrative made upon my features. I will not
spare a syllable of it, although it be of the longest ;
so I make a dash and begin :

Ye maun have heard of Sir Robert Redgauntlet
of that ilk, who lived in these parts before the dear
years. The country will lang mind him ; and our
fathers used to draw breath thick if ever they heard
him named. He was out wi' the Hielandmen in
Montrose's time ; and again he was in the hills wi'
Glencairn in the saxteen hundred and fifty-twa;
and sae when King Charles the Second came in,
wha was in sic favour as the laird of Redgaunt-



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. gi

let? He was knighted at Lonon Court, wi' the
king's ain sword ; and being a red-hot prelatist, he
came down here, rampauging like a lion, with com-
missions of lieutenancy (and of lunacy, for what I
ken), to put down a' the Whigs and Covenanters
in the country. Wild wark they made of it ; for
the Whigs were as dour as the Cavaliers were fierce,
and it was which should first tire the other. Red-
gauntlet was aye for the strong hand ; and his name
is kend as wide in the country as Claverhouse's or
Tarn Dalyell's. Glen, nor dargle, nor mountain,
nor cave could hide the puir hill-folk when Red-
gauntlet was out with bugle and bloodhound after
them, as if they had been sae mony deer. And,
troth, when they fand them, they didna make
muckle mair ceremony than a Hielandman wi' a
roebuck. It was just, " Will ye tak' the test? "
If not "Make ready present fire!" and there
lay the recusant.

Far and wide was Sir Robert hated and feared.
Men thought he had a direct compact with
Satan ; that he was proof against steel, and that
bullets happed aff his buff-coat like hailstanes from
a hearth ; that he had a mear that would turn a
hare on the side of Carrif ra-gauns ; l and muckle
to the same purpose, of whilk mair anon. The
best blessing they wared on him was, " Deil scowp
wi' Redgauntlet! " He wasna a bad master to his
ain folk, though, and was weel aneugh liked by
his tenants; and as for the lackeys and troopers
1 A precipitous side of a mountain in Moffatdale.



92 WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

that rade out wi' him to the persecutions, as the
Whigs caa'd those killing- times, they wad hae
drunken themsells blind to his health at ony time.

Now you are to ken that my gudesire lived on
Redgauntlet's grund they ca' the place Primrose
Knowe. We had lived on the grund, and under
the Redgauntlets, since the riding-days, and lang
before. It was a pleasant bit ; and I think the air
is callerer and fresher there than onywhere else in
the country. It 's a* deserted now ; and I sat on
the broken door-cheek three days since, and was
glad I couldna see the plight the place was in but
that 's a' wide o' the mark. There dwelt my
gudesire, Steenie Steenson ; a rambling, rattling
chiel' he had been in his young days, and could
play weel on the pipes ; he was famous at " hoop-
ers and girders," a' Cumberland couldna touch
him at "Jockie Lattin," and he had the finest
finger for the back-lilt between Berwick and Car-
lisle. The like o' Steenie wasna the sort that they
made Whigs o'. And so he became a Tory, as
they ca' it, which we now ca' Jacobites, just out
of a kind of needcessity, that he might belang to
some side or other. He had nae ill-will to the
Whig bodies, and liked little to see the blude rin,
though, being obliged to follow Sir Robert in hunt-
ing and hoisting, watching and warding, he saw
muckle mischief, and maybe did some that he
couldna avoid.

Now Steenie was a kind of favourite with his
master, and kend a' the folk about the castle, and



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. 93

was often sent for to play the pipes when they were
at their merriment. Auld Dougal MacCallum, the
butler, that had followed Sir Robert through gude
and ill, thick and thin, pool and stream, was spe-
cially fond of the pipes, and aye gae my gudesire
his gude word wi' the laird ; for Dougal could turn
his master round his finger.

Weel, round came the Revolution, and it had
like to hae broken the hearts baith of Dougal and
his master. But the change was not a'thegether
sae great as they feared and other folk thought
for. The Whigs made an unco crawing what they
wad do with their auld enemies, and in special wi'
Sir Robert Redgauntlet. But there were ower-
mony great folks dipped in the same doings to
make a spick-and-span new warld. So Parliament
passed it a' ower easy ; and Sir Robert, bating that
he was held to hunting foxes instead of Covenan-
ters, remained just the man he was. 1 His revel
was as loud, and his hall as weel lighted, as ever
it had been, though maybe he lacked the fines of
the nonconformists, that used to come to stock his
larder and cellar ; for it is certain he began to be

1 The caution and moderation of King William III., and
his principles of unlimited toleration, deprived the Came-
ronians of the opportunity they ardently desired, to retaliate
the injuries which they had received during the reign of
prelacy, and purify the land, as they called it, from the pol-
lution of blood. They esteemed the Revolution, therefore,
only a half-measure, which neither comprehended the re-
building the kirk in its full splendor, nor the revenge of the
death of the saints on their persecutors.



94



PANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.



keener about the rents than his tenants used to find
him before, and they behooved to be prompt to the
rent-day, or else the laird wasna pleased. And he
was sic an awsome body that naebody cared to
anger him; for the oaths he swore, and the rage
that he used to get into, and the looks that he
put on made men sometimes think him a devil
incarnate.

Weel, my gudesire was nae manager no that
he was a very great misguider but he hadna the
saving gift, and he got twa terms' rent in arrear.
He got the first brash at Whitsunday put ower wi'
fair word and piping ; but when Martinmas came
there was a summons from the grund officer to
come wi' the rent on a day preceese, or else Steenie
behooved to flit. Sair wark he had to get the
siller ; but he was weel freended, and at last he got
the haill scraped thegether a thousand merks.
The maist of it was from a neighbour they caa'd
Laurie Lapraik a sly tod. Laurie had wealth
o' gear, could hunt wi' the hound and rin wi' the
hare, and be Whig or Tory, saunt or sinner, as the
wind stood. He was a professor in this Revolu-
tion warld, but he liked an orra sough of this
warld, and a tune on the pipes, weel aneugh at a
by-time ; and, bune a', he thought he had gude
security for the siller he len my gudesire ower the
stocking at Primrose Knowe.

Away trots my gudesire to Redgauntlet Castle
wi' a heavy purse and a light heart, glad to be out
of the laird's danger. Weel, the first thing he



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. 95

learned at the castle was that Sir Robert had
fretted himsell into a fit of the gout because he
did no appear before twelve o'clock. It wasna
a'thegether for sake of the money, Dougal thought,
but because he didna like to part wi' my gudesire
aff the grund. Dougal was glad to see Steenie,
and brought him into the great oak parlour; and
there sat the laird his leesome lane, excepting thar
he had beside him a great, ill-favoured jackanape
that was a special pet of his. A cankered beast it
was, and mony an ill-natured trick it played; ill
to please it was, and easily angered ran about the
haill castle, chattering and rowling, and pinching
and biting folk, specially before ill weather, or dis-
turbance in the state. Sir Robert caa'd it Major
Weir, after the warlock that was burnt; 1 and few
folk liked either the name or the conditions of the
creature they thought there was something in it
by ordinar and my gudesire was not just easy in
mind when the door shut on him, and he saw him-
sell in the room wi' naebody but the laird, Dougal
MacCallum, and the major a thing that hadna
chanced to him before.

Sir Robert sat, or, I should say, lay, in a great
arm-chair, wi' his grand velvet gown, and his feet
on a cradle ; for he had baith gout and gravel, and
his face looked as gash and ghastly as Satan's.
Major Weir sat opposite to him, in a red-laced
coat, and the laird's wig on his head ; and aye as

1 A celebrated wizard, executed at Edinburgh for sorcery
and other crimes.



96 WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE,

Sir Robert girned wi' pain, the jackanape girned
too, like a sheep's head between a pair of tangs
an ill-faur'd, fearsome couple they were. The
laird's buff-coat was hung on a pin behind him,
and his broadsword and his pistols within reach ;
for he keepit up the auld fashion of having the
weapons ready, and a horse saddled day and night,
just as he used to do when he was able to loup on
horseback, and sway after ony of the hill-folk he
could get speerings of. Some said it was for fear
of the Whigs taking vengeance, but I judge it was
just his auld custom he wasna gine not fear ony-
thing. The rental-book, wi' its black cover and
brass clasps, was lying beside him ; and a book of
sculduddery sangs was put betwixt the leaves, to
keep it open at the place where it bore evidence
against the goodman of Primrose Knowe, as behind
the hand with his mails and duties. Sir Robert
gave my gudesire a look, as if he would have
withered his heart in his bosom. Ye maun ken he
had a way of bending his brows that men saw the
visible mark of a horseshoe in his forehead, deep-
dinted, as if it had been stamped there.

"Are ye come light-handed, ye son of a toom
whistle?" said Sir Robert. "Zounds! if you
are"

My gudesire, with as gude a countenance as he
could put on, made a leg, and placed the bag of
money on the table wi' a dash, like a man that
does something clever. The laird drew it to him
hastily. " Is all here, Steenie, man? "



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. 97

" Your honour will find it right," said my gude-
sire.

" Here, Dougal," said the laird, " gie Steenie a
tass of brandy, till I count the siller and write the
receipt."

But they werena weel out of the room when Sir
Robert gied a yelloch that garr'd the castle rock.
Back ran Dougal ; in flew the liverymen ; yell on
yell gied the laird, ilk ane mair awfu' than the
ither. My gudesire knew not whether to stand or
flee, but he ventured back into the parlour, where
a' was gaun hirdie-girdie naebody to say "come
in " or " gae out." Terribly the laird roared for
cauld water to his feet, and wine to cool his
throat ; and ' Hell, hell, hell, and its flames', was aye
the word in his mouth. They brought him water,
and when they plunged his swoln feet into the
tub, he cried out it was burning; and folks say
that it did bubble and sparkle like a seething caul-
dron. He flung the cup at Dougal's head and
said he had given him blood instead of Burgundy ;
and, sure aneugh, the lass washed clotted blood aff
the carpet the neist day. The jackanape they caa'd
Major Weir, it jibbered and cried as if it was
mocking its master. My gudesire's head was like
to turn; he forgot baith siller and receipt, and
downstairs he banged ; but, as he ran, the shrieks
came fainter and fainter ; there was a deep-drawn
shivering groan, and word gaed through the castle
that the laird was dead.

Weel, away came my gudesire wi' his finger in



98 WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

his mouth, and his best hope was that Dougal had
seen the money-bag and heard the laird speak of
writing the receipt. The young laird, now Sir
John, came from Edinburgh to see things put to
rights. Sir John and his father never 'greed weel.
Sir John had been bred an advocate, and afterward
sat in the last Scots Parliament and voted for the
Union, having gotten, it was thought, a rug of the
compensations if his father could have come out
of his grave he would have brained him for it on
his awn hearthstane. Some thought it was easier
counting with the auld rough knight than the fair-
spoken young ane but mair of that anon.

Dougal MacCallum, poor body, neither grat nor
graned, but gaed about the house looking like a
corpse, but directing, as was his duty, a' the order
of the grand funeral. Now Dougal looked aye
waur and waur when night was coming, and was
aye the last to gang to his bed, whilk was in a
little round just opposite the chamber of dais,
whilk his master occupied while he was living, and
where he now lay in state, as they caa'd it, weel-
aday ! The night before the funeral Dougal could
keep his awn counsel nae longer ; he came doun
wi' his proud spirit, and fairly asked auld Hutcheon
to sit in his room with him for an hour. When
they were in the round, Dougal took a tass of
brandy to himsell, and gave another to Hutcheon,
and wished him all health and lang life, and said
that, for himsell, he wasna lang for this world ; for
that every night since Sir Robert's death his silver



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. 99

call had sounded from the state chamber just as it
used to do at nights in his lifetime to call Dougal
to help to turn him in his bed. Dougal said that,
being alone with the dead on that floor of the
tower (for naebody cared to wake Sir Robert Red-
gauntlet like another corpse), he had never daured
to answer the call, but that now his conscience
checked him for neglecting his duty ; for, " though
death breaks service," said MacCallum, "it shall
never weak my service to Sir Robert ; and I will
answer his next whistle, so be you will stand by
me, Hutcheon."

Hutcheon had nae will to the wark, but he had
stood by Dougal in battle and broil, and he wad
not fail him at this pinch ; so doun the carles sat
ower a stoup of brandy, and Hutcheon, who was
something of a clerk, would have read a chapter
of the Bible ; but Dougal would hear naething but
a blaud of Davie Lindsay, whilk was the waur
preparation.

When midnight came, and the house was quiet
as the grave, sure enough the silver whistle sounded
as sharp and shrill as if Sir Robert was blowing it ;
and up got the twa auld serving-men, and tottered
into the room where the dead man lay. Hutcheon
saw aneugh at the first glance ; for there were
torches in the room, which showed him the foul
fiend, in his ain shape, sitting on the laird's coffin !
Ower he couped as if he had been dead. He
could not tell how lang he lay in a trance at the
door, but when he gathered himsell he cried on



IOO WANDERING WILLIE'S TALK.

his neighbour, and getting nae answer raised the
house, when Dougal was found lying dead within
twa steps cf the bed where his master's coffin was
placed. As for the whistle, it was gane anes and
aye ; but mony a time was it heard at the top of the
house on the bartizan, and amang the auld chim-
neys and turrets where the howlets have their
nests. Sir John hushed the matter up, and the
funeral passed over without mair bogie wark.

But when a' was ower, and the laird was begin-
ning to settle his affairs, every tenant was called
up for his arrears, and my gudesire for the full sum
that stood against him in the rental-book. Weel,
away he trots to the castle to tell his story, and
there he is introduced to Sir John, sitting in his
father's chair, in deep mourning, with weepers and
hanging cravat, and a small walking-rapier by his
side, instead of the auld broadsword that had a hun-
derweight of steel about it, what with blade, chape,
and basket-hilt. I have heard their communings
so often tauld ower that I almost think I was there
mysell, though I couldna be born at the time. (In
fact, Alan, my companion, mimicked, with a good
deal of humour, the flattering, conciliating tone of
the tenant's address and the hypocritical melan-
choly of the laird's reply. His grandfather, he
said, had, while he spoke, his eye fixed on the
rental-book, as if it were a mastiff-dog that he was
afraid would spring up and bite him.)

" I wuss ye joy, sir, of the head seat and the
white loaf and the brid lairdship. Your father was



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. IOI

a kind man to freends and followers ; muckle grace
to you, Sir John, to fill his shoon his boots, I suld
say, for he seldom wore shoon, unless it were muils
when he had the gout."

"Ay, Steenie," quoth the laird, sighing deeply,
and putting his napkin to his een, " his was a sud-
den call, and he will be missed in the country ; no
time to set his house in order weel prepared God-
ward, no doubt, which is the root of the matter;
but left us behind a tangled hesp to wind, Steenie.
Hem! hem! We maun go to business, Steenie;
much to do, and little time to do it in."

Here he opened the fatal volume. I have heard
of a thing they call Doomsday-book I am clear
it has been a rental of back-ganging tenants.

" Stephen," said Sir John, still in the same soft,
sleekit tone of voice "Stephen Stevenson, or
Steenson, ye are down here for a year's rent be-
hind the hand due at last term."

Stephen. Please your honour, Sir John, i paid
it to your father.

Sir John. Ye took a receipt, then, doubtless,
Stephen, and can produce it?

Stephen. Indeed, I hadna time, an it like your
honour ; for nae sooner had I set doun the siller,
and just as his honour, Sir Robert, that 's gaen,
drew it ill him to count it and write out the receipt,
he was ta'en wi' the pains that removed him.

"That was unlucky," said Sir John, after a
pause. " But ye maybe paid it in the presence of
somebody. I want but a tails quaks evidence,



102 WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

Stephen. I would go ower-strictly to work with
no poor man."

Stephen. Troth, Sir John, there was naebody
in the room but Dougal MacCallum, the butler.
But, as your honour kens, he has e'en followed his
auld master.

" Very unlucky again, Stephen," said Sir John,
without altering his voice a single note. "The
man to whom ye paid the money is dead, and the
man who witnessed the payment is dead too ; and
the siller, which should have been to the fore, is
neither seen nor heard tell of in the repositories.
How am I to believe a' this? "

Stephen. I dinna ken, your honour; but there
is a bit memorandum note of the very coins, for,
God help me! I had to borrow out of twenty
purses ; and I am sure that ilka man there set down
will take his grit oath for what purpose I borrowed
the money.

Sir John. I have little doubt ye borrowed the
money, Steenie. It is the payment that I want to
have proof of.

Stephen. The siller maun be about the house,
Sir John. And since your honour never got it,
and his honour that was canna have ta'en it wi' him,
maybe some of the family may hae seen it.

Sir John. We will examine the servants, Ste-
phen ; that is but reasonable.

But lackey and lass, and page and groom, all
denied stoutly that they had ever seen such a bag
of money as my gudesire described. What saw



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE, 103

waur, he had unluckily not mentioned to any liv-
ing soul of them his purpose of paying his rent.
Ae quean had noticed something under his arm,
but she took it for the pipes.

Sir John Redgauntlet ordered the servants out
of the room and then said to my gudesire, " Now,
Steenie, ye see ye have fair play ; and, as I have
little doubt ye ken better where to find the siller
than ony other body, I beg in fair terms, and for
your own sake, that you will end this fasherie ; for,
Stephen, ye maun pay or flit."

" The Lord forgie your opinion," said Stephen,
driven almost to his wits' end " I am an honest
man."

" So am I, Stephen," said his honour; "and so
are all the folks in the house, I hope. But if there
be a knave among us, it must be he that tells the
story he cannot prove." He paused,] and then
added, mair sternly : " If I understand your trick,
sir, you want to take advantage of some malicious
reports concerning things in this family, and par-
ticularly respecting my father's sudden death,
thereby to cheat me out of the money, and per-
haps take away my character by insinuating that
I have received the rent I am demanding. Where
do you suppose this money to be? I insist upon
knowing."

My gudesire saw everything look so muckle
against him that he grew nearly desperate. How-
ever, he shifted from one foot to another, looked
to every corner of the room, and made no answer.



104 WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

" Speak out, sirrah," said the laird, assuming a
look of his father's, a very particular ane, which
he had when he was angry it seemed as if the
wrinkles of his frown made that salfsame fearful
shape of a horse's shoe in the middle of his brow ;
"speak out, sir! I will know your thoughts; do
you suppose that I have this money? "

" Far be it frae me to say so," said Stephen.

" Do you charge any of my people with having
taken it? "

" I wad be laith to charge them that may be in-
nocent," said my gudesire ; " and if there be any
one that is guilty, I have nae proof."

" Somewhere the money must be, if there is a
word of truth in your story," said Sir John ; " I
ask where you think it is and demand a correct
answer! "

" In hell, if you will have my thoughts of it,"
said my gudesire, driven to extremity "in hell!
with your father, his jackanape, and his silver
whistle."

Down the stairs he ran (for the parlour was nae
place for him after such a word), and he heard the
laird swearing blood and wounds behind him, as
fast as ever did Sir Robert, and roaring for the
bailie and the baron-officer.

Away rode my gudesire to his chief creditor
(him they caa'd Laurie Lapraik), to try if he could
make onything out of him ; but when he tauld his
story, he got but the worst word in his wame
thief, beggar, and dy vour were the saf test terms ;



WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE. 105

and to the boot of these hard terms, Laurie brought
up the auld story of dipping his hand in the blood
of God's saunts, just as if a tenant could have
helped riding with the laird, and that a laird like
Sir Robert Redgauntlet. My gudesire was, by this
time, far beyond the bounds of patience, and, while
he and Laurie were at deil speed the liars, he was
wanchancie aneugh to abuse Lapraik's doctrine as
weel as the man, and said things that garr'd folks'
flesh grue that heard them he wasna just himsell,
and he had lived wi' a wild set in his day.

At last they parted, and my gudesire was to
ride hame through the wood of Pitmurkie, that is
a' fou of black firs, as they say. I ken the wood,
but the firs may be black or white for what I can
tell. At the entry of the wood there is a wild com-
mon, and on the edge of the common a little lonely
change-house, that was keepit then by an hostler
wife, they suld hae caa'd her Tibbie Faw, and
there puir Steenie cried for a mutchkin of brandy,
for he had had no refreshment the haill day. Tib-
bie was earnest wi' him to take a bite of meat, but he
couldna think o' 't, nor would he take his foot out
of the stirrup, and took off the brandy wholely at