03 I Make Acquaintance of My Uncle (Kidnapped)

01CHAPTER III.

02I Make Acquaintance of My Uncle.

03Presently there came a great rattling of chains and bolts, and the door was cautiously opened and shut to again behind me as soon as I had passed.

04"'Go into the kitchen and touch nothing,' said the voice, and while the person of the house set himself to replacing the defences of the door, I groped my way forward and entered the kitchen.

05The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest room I think I ever put my eyes on.

06Half a dozen dishes stood upon the shelves.

07The table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge, a horned spoon, and a cup of small beer.

08Besides what I have named, there was not another thing in that great stone-vaulted empty chamber but lock-fast chests arranged along the wall, and a corner cupboard with a padlock.

09As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me.

10He was a mean, stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature, and his age might have been anything between fifty and seventy.

11His night-cap was of flannel, and so was the night-gown that he wore, instead of coat and waistcoat over his ragged shirt.

12He was long unshaved, but what most distressed and even daunted me, he would neither take his eyes away from me nor look me fairly in the face.

13What he was, whether by trade or birth, was more than I could fathom, but he seemed most like an old, unprofitable serving-man who should have been left in charge of that big house upon board wages.

14Are you sharp-set?

15he asked, glancing at about the level of my knee.

16Ye can eat that drop, Parrish?

17I said I feared it was his own supper.

18Oh, said he, I can do fine wanting it.

19I'll take the ale, though, for it slockens my cough.

20He drank the cup about half out, still keeping an eye upon me as he drank, and then suddenly held out his hand.

21Let's see the letter, said he.

22I told him the letter was for Mr.

23Balfour, not for him.

24And who do you think I am?

25says he.

26Give me Alexander's letter.

27You know my father's name?

28It would be strange if I didna, he returned, for he was my born brother, and little as you seem to like either me and my house or my good Parrish, I'm your born uncle, old Davy, my man, and you my born nephew.

29So give us the letter and sit down and fill your kite.

30If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness, and disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears.

31As it was, I could find no words, neither black nor white, but handed him the letter, and sat down to the porridge with as little appetite for meat as ever a young man had.

32Meanwhile my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter over and over in his hands.

33Do you ken what's in it?

34he asked suddenly.

35You see for yourself, sir, said I, that the seal has not been broken.

36Ay, said he, but what brought you here?

37To give the letter, said I.

38No, says he, cunningly, but you'll have some hopes, no doubt.

39I confess, sir, said I, when I was told that I had kinsfolk well to do, I did indeed indulge the hope that they might help me in my life.

40But I am no beggar.

41I look for no favours at your hands, and I want none that are not freely given.

42For as poor as I appear, I have friends of my own that will be blithe to help me.

43Hoot, hoot, said Uncle Ebeneezer.

44Didn't I fly up in the snuff at me?

45We'll agree fine yet.

46And, Davy, my man, if you're done with that bit of parritch, I could just take a sup of it myself.

47Ay, he continued, as soon as he had ousted me from the stool and spoon.

48They're fine, halesome food.

49They're grand food, parritch.

50He murmured a little grace to himself, and fell to.

51Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind.

52He was a hearty, if not a great eater.

53But as for me, I could never do more'n pike at food.

54He took a pull at the small beer, which probably reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran thus.

55If you're dry, you'll find water behind the door.

56To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart.

57He, on his part, continued to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw out little darting glances now at my shoes and now at my homespun stockings.

58Once only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our eyes met, and no thief taken with a hand in a man's pocket could have shown more lively signals of distress.

59This set me in a muse, whether his timidity arose from too long a disuse of any human company, or whether, perhaps, upon a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle changed into an altogether different man.

60From this I was awakened by his sharp voice.

61Your father's been long dead?

62he asked.

63Three weeks, sir, said I.

64He was a secret man, Alexander, a secret silent man, he continued.

65He never said muckle when he was young.

66He never have spoken muckle of me?

67I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself that he had any brother.

68Dear me, dear me, said Ebenezer, nor yet of Shaw's, I dare say.

69Not so much as the name, sir, said I.

70To think of that, said he, a strange nature of a man.

71For all that he seemed singularly satisfied, but whether with himself, or me, or with this conduct of my father's, was more than I could read.

72Certainly, however, he seemed to be outgrowing that distaste or ill-will that he had conceived at first against my person, for presently he jumped up, came across the room behind me, and hit me a smack upon the shoulder.

73We'll agree fine yet, he cried.

74I'm just as glad I let you in, and now come away to your bed.

75To my surprise he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and paused before a door, which he unlocked.

76I was close upon his heels, having stumbled after him as best I might, and then he bade me go in, for that was my chamber.

77I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps, and begged a light to go to bed with.

78"'Hoot-toot!' said Uncle Ebenezer.

79"'There's a fine moon.' "'Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-merk,' said I.

80"'I cannot see the bed.' "'Hoot-toot!

81Hoot-toot!' said he.

82"'Lights in a house is a thing I didna agree with.

83I'm unka a fear the fires.

84"'Good-night to you, Davy, my man.' And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to, and I heard him lock me in from the outside.

85I did not know whether to laugh or cry.

86The room was as cold as a well, and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag.

87But by good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling myself in the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big bedstead, and fell speedily asleep.

88With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered furniture, and lit by three fair windows.

89Ten years ago, or perhaps twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awaken as a man could wish.

90But damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders had done their worst since then.

91Many of the window-panes, besides, were broken, and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant neighbours, perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head.

92Meanwhile the sun was shining outside, and being very cold in that miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my jailer came and let me out.

93He carried me to the back of the house, where there was a draw-well, and told me to wash my face there, if I wanted.

94And when that was done, I made the best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the fire and was making the porridge.

95The table was laid with two bowls and two horn-spoons, but the same single measure of small beer.

96Perhaps my eye rested on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle observed it, for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if I would like to drink ale, for so he called it.

97I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about.

98Nah, nah, said he.

99I'll deny you nothing in reason.

100He fetched another cup from the shelf, and then, to my great surprise, instead of drawing more beer, he poured an acrid half from one cup to the other.

101There was a kind of nobleness in this that took my breath away.

102If my uncle was certainly a miser, he was one of that thoroughbreed that goes near to make the vice respectable.

103When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a drawer, and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which he cut one fill before he locked it up again.

104Then he sat down in the sun at one of the windows and silently smoked.

105From time to time his eyes came coasting round to me, and he shot me out one of his questions.

106Once it was, And your mother?

107And when I had told him that she too was dead, Ay, she was a bonny lassie.

108Then, after another long pause, Where were these friends of yours?

109I told him they were different gentlemen of the name of Campbell, though, indeed, there was only one, and that the minister, that had ever taken the least note of me, but I began to think my uncle made too light of my position, and finding myself all alone with him, I did not wish him to suppose me helpless.

110He seemed to turn this over in his mind, and then, Davy, my man, said he, You've come to the right bit when you come to your uncle Ebenezer.

111I've a great notion of the family, and I mean to do the right by you, But while I'm taking a bit think to myself of what's the best thing to put you to, Whether the law, or the ministry, or maybe the army, Wilk is what boys are fondest of.

112I wouldn't like the Balfours to be humbled before a ween Highland Campbell's, And I'll ask you to keep your tongue within your teeth.

113No letters, no messages, No kind of work to anybody, or else, there's my door.

114Uncle Ebenezer, said I, I've no manner of reason to suppose you mean anything but well by me.

115For all that, I would have you to know that I have a pride of my own.

116It was by no will of mine that I came seeking you, And if you show me your door again, I'll take you at the word.

117He seemed grievously put out.

118Hoot-hoot!

119said he.

120K'kani, man!

121K'kani!

122Buy it a day or two.

123I'm no warlock, To find a fortune for you in the bottom of a parritch-bowl.

124But just you give me a day or two, Say nothing to nobody, And I'm as sure as sure, I'll do the right by you.

125Very well, said I.

126Enough said.

127But you want to help me, there's no doubt, But I'll be glad of it, and none but I'll be grateful.

128It seemed to me, too soon, I dare say, That I was getting the upper hand of my uncle, And I began next to say that I must have the bed and bedclothes aired and put to sun dry, For nothing would make me sleep in such a pickle.

129Is this my house or yours?

130said he, in his keen voice, And then all of a sudden broke off.

131Nah, nah, said he.

132I dinna mean that.

133What's mine is yours, Davey, my man, And what's yours is mine.

134Blood's thicker than water, And there's nobody but you and me that ought the name.

135And then on he rambled about the family, And its ancient greatness, And his father that began to enlarge the house, And himself that stopped the building as a sinful waste, And this put it in my head to give him Janet Clouston's message.

136The limmer!

137he cried.

138Twelve hunter and fifteen!

139That's every day since I had the limmer ropted.

140Dog, David, I'll have her roasted on red peats before I'm by with it.

141A witch!

142A proclaimed witch!

143I'll often see the session, Clark.

144With that he opened a chest, And got out a very old and well-preserved blue coat and waistcoat, And a good enough beaver hat, both without lace.

145These he threw on anyway, And taking a staff from the cupboard, Locked all up again, And was for setting out, When a thought arrested him.

146I cannot leave you by yourself in the house, Said he.

147I have to lock you out.

148The blood came to my face.

149If you lock me out, I said, It'll be the last you'll see of me in friendship.

150He turned very pale, And sucked his mouth in.

151This is not a way, He said, Looking wickedly at a corner of the floor.

152This is not a way to win my favour, David.

153Sir, Says I, With a proper reverence for your age and our common blood, I do not value your favour at a bottle's purchase.

154I was brought up to have a good conceit of myself, And if you were all the uncle, And all the family, I had in the world ten times over, I wouldn't buy your liking at such prices.

155Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for a while.

156I could see him all trembling and twitching, Like a man with palsy.

157But when he turned round, He had a smile upon his face.

158Well, well, said he, We must bear and forbear.

159I'll no go.

160That's all to be said of it.

161Uncle Ebenezer, I said, I can make nothing out of this.

162You use me like a thief.

163You hate to have me in this house.

164You let me see it every word and every minute.

165It's not possible that you can like me.

166And as for me, I've spoken to you as I've never thought to speak to any man.

167Why do you seek to keep me, then?

168Let me gang back.

169Let me gang back to the friends I have, And that like me.

170Nah, nah, nah, nah, He said very earnestly.

171I like you fine.

172We'll agree fine yet.

173And for the honour of the house, I couldna let you leave the way you came.

174Bide here quiet.

175There's a good lad.

176Just you bide here quiet a bitty, And you'll find that we agree.

177Well, sir, said I, After I'd thought the matter out in silence, I'll stay a while.

178It's more just I should be helped by my own blood than strangers.

179And if we don't agree, I'll do my best it shall be through no fault of mine.

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