Part 11 (1/2)
And David's personal accusation sounded so much like a reproof, that James did not feel it safe to pursue the subject.
That very night David wrote thus to his nephew:
”Donald, my dear lad, if thou owest James Blackie 20, pay it immediate. Lying is the second vice, owing money is the first. I enclose draft for 70 instead o' 50, as per request.”
That 70 was a large sum in the eyes of the careful Glasgow trader; in the young Highlander's eyes it seemed but a small sum. He could not form any conception of the amount of love it represented, nor of the struggle it had cost David to ”gie awa for nae consideration” the savings of many days, perhaps weeks, of toil and thought.
In September Christine came back, and towards the end of October, Donald. He was greatly improved externally by his trip and his a.s.sociations--more manly and more handsome--while his manners had acquired a slight touch of hauteur that both amused and pleased his uncle. It had been decided that he should remain in Glasgow another winter, and then select his future profession. But at present Donald troubled himself little about the future. He had returned to Christine more in love with the peace and purity of her character than ever; and besides, his pecuniary embarra.s.sments in Glasgow were such as to require his personal presence until they were arranged.
This arrangement greatly troubled him. He had only a certain allowance from his father--a loving but stern man--who having once decided what sum was sufficient for a young man in Donald's position, would not, under any ordinary circ.u.mstances, increase it. David Cameron had already advanced him 70. James Blackie was a resource he did not care again to apply to. In the meantime he was pressed by small debts on every hand, and was living among a cla.s.s of young men whose habits led him into expenses far beyond his modest income. He began to be very anxious and miserable. In Christine's presence he was indeed still the same merry-hearted gentleman; but James saw him in other places, and he knew from long experience the look of care that drew Donald's handsome brows together.
One night, towards the close of this winter, James went to see an old man who was a broker or trader in bills and money, doing business in the Cowcaddens. James also did a little of the same business in a cautious way, and it was some mutual transaction in gold and silver that took him that dreary, soaking night into such a locality.
The two men talked for some time in a low and earnest voice, and then the old man, opening a greasy leather satchel, displayed a quant.i.ty of paper which he had bought. James looked it over with a keen and practised eye. Suddenly his att.i.tude and expression changed; he read over and over one piece of paper, and every time he read it he looked at it more critically and with a greater satisfaction.
”Andrew Starkie,” he said, ”where did you buy this?”
”Weel, James, I bought it o' Laidlaw--Aleck Laidlaw. Ye wadna think a big tailoring place like that could hae the wind in their faces; but folks maun hae their bad weather days, ye ken; but it blew me gude, so I'll ne'er complain. Ye see it is for 89, due in twenty days now, and I only gied 79 for it--a good name too, nane better.”
”David Cameron! But what would he be owing Laidlaw 89 for clothes for?”
”Tut, tut! The claithes were for his nephew. There was some trouble anent the bill, but the old man gied a note for the amount at last, at three months. It's due in twenty days now. As he banks wi' your firm, ye may collect it for me; it will be an easy-made penny or twa.”
”I would like to buy this note. What will you sell it for?”
”I'm no minded to sell it. What for do ye want it?”
”Nothing particular. I'll give you 90 for it.”
”If it's worth that to you, it is worth mair. I'm no minded to tak 90.”
”I'll give you 95.”
”I'm no minded to tak it. It's worth mair to you, I see that. What are you going to mak by it? I'll sell it for half o' what you are counting on.” ”Then you would not make a bawbee. I am going to ware 95 on--on a bit of revenge. Now will you go shares?”
”Not I. Revenge in cold blood is the deil's own act. I dinna wark wi'
the deil, when it's a losing job to me.”
”Will you take 95 then?”
”No. When lads want whistles they maun pay for them.”
”I'll give no more. For why? Because in twenty days you will do my work for me; then it will cost me nothing, and it will cost you 89, that is all about it, Starkie.”
Starkie lifted the note which James had flung carelessly down, and his skinny hands trembled as he fingered it. ”This is David Cameron's note o' hand, and David Cameron is a gude name.”
”Yes, very good. Only that is not David Cameron's writing, it is a--forgery. Light your pipe with it, Andrew Starkie.”
”His nephew gave it himsel' to Aleck Laidlaw--”