Adventure stories; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
“You can do me a better service than even what you propose,” said I;
and when he had asked its nature—“Come with me to the house of one of
my enemies, and testify how I have carried myself this day,” I told
him. “That will be the true service. For though he has sent me a
gallant adversary for the first, the thought in Mr. Simon’s mind is
merely murder. There will be a second and then a third; and by what you
have seen of my cleverness with the cold steel, you can judge for
yourself what is like to be the upshot.”
“And I would not like it myself, if I was no more of a man than what
you wass!” he cried. “But I will do you right, Palfour. Lead on!”
If I had walked slowly on the way into that accursed park my heels were
light enough on the way out. They kept time to a very good old air,
that is as ancient as the Bible, and the words of it are: “_Surely the
bitterness of death is passed_.” I mind that I was extremely thirsty,
and had a drink at Saint Margaret’s well on the road down, and the
sweetness of that water passed belief. We went through the sanctuary,
up the Canongate, in by the Netherbow, and straight to Prestongrange’s
door, talking as we came and arranging the details of our affair. The
footman owned his master was at home, but declared him engaged with
other gentlemen on very private business, and his door forbidden.
“My business is but for three minutes, and it cannot wait,” said I.
“You may say it is by no means private, and I shall be even glad to
have some witnesses.”
As the man departed unwillingly enough upon this errand, we made so
bold as to follow him to the ante-chamber, whence I could hear for a
while the murmuring of several voices in the room within. The truth is,
they were three at the one table—Prestongrange, Simon Fraser, and Mr.
Erskine, Sheriff of Perth; and as they were met in consultation on the
very business of the Appin murder, they were a little disturbed at my
appearance, but decided to receive me.
“Well, well, Mr. Balfour, and what brings you here again? and who is
this you bring with you?” says Prestongrange.
As for Fraser, he looked before him on the table.
“He is here to bear a little testimony in my favour, my lord, which I
think it very needful you should hear,” said I, and turned to
Duncansby.
“I have only to say this,” said the lieutenant, “that I stood up this
day with Palfour in the Hunter’s Pog, which I am now fery sorry for,
and he behaved himself as pretty as a shentlemans could ask it. And I
have creat respects for Palfour,” he added.
“I thank you for your honest expressions,” said I.
Whereupon Duncansby made his bow to the company, and left the chamber,
as we had agreed upon before.
“What have I to do with this?” says Prestongrange.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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