And though many a face was joyous as were ours, eke many were sad and
lowering. For it is strange that such ill men should have some to love
them, or at least so it was with John Mure the elder. And so there were
in the city Mures by the score, fighting, black-avised MacKerrows,
cankered Craufords, with all the disbanded Bargany discontents from the
south of Carrick, Drummurchie’s broken band from the hill-lands of Barr,
together with many others. So that we kept our swords, as at our first
visit to the town in the days of Gilbert Kennedy, free in their
scabbards while we ruffled it along the pavement.
And I mind what my mother said, the first time she went down the
plainstones with me. We met young Anthony Kennedy of Benane, and I
perceived that it was his intent to take the wall of me. So I squared
myself, and went a little before with my hand on my rapier hilt and my
elbows wide, also cocking fiercely my bonnet over my eye—which assurance
feared Anthony so greatly that he meekly took the pavement edge, and I
went by with my mother on my arm, having, as I thought, come off very
well in the matter.
But my mother stood stock still in amazement.
’Laddie, laddie, I kenned na what had taken ye—ye prinked and passaged
for a’ the world like our bantam cock at Kirrieoch, when he hears his
neighbour at Kirriemore craw in the prime of the morn. Gin ye gang on
that gait, ye will get your kame berried and scarted, my lad. So listen
your auld mither, and walk mair humbly.’
At this I was somewhat shamed, and dropped behind like a little whipped
messan; for my mother has a brisk tongue. My father said not a word, but
there was a look of dry humorsomeness upon his face which I knew and
feared more than my mother’s clip-wit tongue.
*CHAPTER XLIX*
*THE GREAT DAY OF TRIAL*
At last, however, the trial was set, and we all summoned for our
evidence. It was to be held in the High Court of Justiciary, and was a
right solemn thing. A hot day in mid-summer it proved, with the narrow,
overcrowded bounds of the town drowsed with heat, and yet eaten up with
a plague of flies. The room of the trial was a large one, with a dais
for the judges at the end, the boxes for the prisoners, and a tall stool
with steps and a bar on which to rest the hands, for the witnesses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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