Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 08
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 08
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
such circumstances as warranted the strongest presumptions of your
guilt.
"My astonishment could only be equalled by the horror I felt at having
caused an innocent fellow-creature to be placed in hazard of his life.
However, I was sufficiently collected; and, having learned that you
could not be brought to trial for some time, I left the place with the
firm resolution that, be the consequences what they might, not one hair
of your head should be injured.
"I had no secrets from my wife, and to her I disclosed everything. After
some deliberation, we agreed that it was best, if possible, to procure
your escape from the prison; as, if that could be accomplished, there
would be no necessity for any disclosures to gratify the inquisitive and
malicious. I resolved to act by myself, without the assistance of any
one. My first object was to prevent interference of the country writers;
and this I accomplished easily enough, by creating an impression that
they would give offence to the new Baron of Merton, if they ventured to
assist you. Thus I deprived you of the advice of these worthies, which,
after all, was no great loss. I should have regretted your imprisonment,
had I not been informed that you were a _mauvais sujet_, and that the
restraint would do you no harm, as it might induce you to reflect.
"With my wife's assistance, I procured a female dress, bonnet and cloak.
I also bought a file, a rope-ladder, and some aquafortis, as I thought
it would be no very difficult matter to help you out of an old Scotch
county jail. Lady Mortlake had an uncle resident a mile or two from
Liverpool. This fact presented an ostensible object for a trip, and we
set off together. I left her with her relative; and, crossing the
country, I got to Jedburgh in good time. I was quite unknown, as, prior
to my last eventful visit, many years had passed by since I had been in
the County of Roxburgh. I gave myself out to be an Edinburgh writer,
which was believed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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