Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
It was night, it was twelve o'clock, and all was silence, save that, at
intervals, the grating crake of the landrail or corncraik was heard,
like some importunate creditor craving payment, from breath to breath,
of his due. An image stood in the passage of the clay-built
dwelling--it was not visible, but there was silence and a voice--it was
a well-known voice. "Oh, my God, it is my brother!" Thus exclaimed Nancy
Nivison, whilst she threw herself, naked as she was, into the arms of
her long-lost and sore-lamented brother. The old woman was gradually
aroused to a conception of what was going forward; but her spirit was
troubled within her, and she groaned, whilst she articulated, "Beware, I
pray ye!--beware what ye're doing!--Douglas is as near as Wigton with
his band o' murderers. They have shot the father, and they will not
scruple to murder, by law or without law, the son. Oh sirs, I'm unco
distressed to think o' the danger which this unexpected visit must
occasion!" Thomas Nivison had, indeed, sailed for America; but he had
been shipwrecked on the Isle of Arran, not far from the coast of
Ireland, and had lived for months with the fishermen, by assisting them
in their labour. But hame is hame--
"Oh, hame, hame, hame, fain wad I be!
Oh, hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!"
So breathes, in perfect nature and simplicity, the old song; and so
felt, amidst the bare rocks and stormy inlets of Arran, poor Thomas
Nivison. And for the sake of this humble home, this poor outlaw, upon
whose head a price had been set (as he had wounded, almost to death, one
of his father's murderers), had run, and was now running, incalculable
risks. Long ere daylight Thomas Nivison had betaken himself to a
hiding-place in the linns of Cree; but his visit had not escaped
observation. A smuggler of brandy and tea from the Isle of Man, being
engaged in what he denominated the free-trade, chanced to mark his
approach, and fled immediately with the news to Douglas at Wigton. The
troop surrounded the house by break of day; but the bird was flown.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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