Part 48 (1/2)
”And I hae nae mysteries to explain, sir,” said Jeanie, ”but only to pray you, as a preacher of the gospel and a gentleman, to permit me to go safe to the next public-house on the Lunnon road.”
”I shall take care of your safety,” said young Staunton ”you need ask that favour from no one.”
”Do you say so before my face?” said the justly-incensed father.
”Perhaps, sir, you intend to fill up the cup of disobedience and profligacy by forming a low and disgraceful marriage? But let me bid you beware.”
”If you were feared for sic a thing happening wi' me, sir,” said Jeanie, ”I can only say, that not for all the land that lies between the twa ends of the rainbow wad I be the woman that should wed your son.”
”There is something very singular in all this,” said the elder Staunton; ”follow me into the next room, young woman.”
”Hear me speak first,” said the young man. ”I have but one word to say. I confide entirely in your prudence; tell my father as much or as little of these matters as you will, he shall know neither more nor less from me.”
His father darted at him a glance of indignation, which softened into sorrow as he saw him sink down on the couch, exhausted with the scene he had undergone. He left the apartment, and Jeanie followed him, George Staunton raising himself as she pa.s.sed the door-way, and p.r.o.nouncing the word, ”Remember!” in a tone as monitory as it was uttered by Charles I.
upon the scaffold. The elder Staunton led the way into a small parlour, and shut the door.
”Young woman,” said he, ”there is something in your face and appearance that marks both sense and simplicity, and, if I am not deceived, innocence also--Should it be otherwise, I can only say, you are the most accomplished hypocrite I have ever seen.--I ask to know no secret that you have unwillingness to divulge, least of all those which concern my son. His conduct has given me too much unhappiness to permit me to hope comfort or satisfaction from him. If you are such as I suppose you, believe me, that whatever unhappy circ.u.mstances may have connected you with George Staunton, the sooner you break them through the better.”
”I think I understand your meaning, sir,” replied Jeanie; ”and as ye are sae frank as to speak o' the young gentleman in sic a way, I must needs say that it is but the second time of my speaking wi' him in our lives, and what I hae heard frae him on these twa occasions has been such that I never wish to hear the like again.”
”Then it is your real intention to leave this part of the country, and proceed to London?” said the Rector.
”Certainly, sir; for I may say, in one sense, that the avenger of blood is behind me; and if I were but a.s.sured against mischief by the way”
”I have made inquiry,” said the clergyman, ”after the suspicious characters you described. They have left their place of rendezvous; but as they may be lurking in the neighbourhood, and as you say you have special reason to apprehend violence from them, I will put you under the charge of a steady person, who will protect you as far as Stamford, and see you into a light coach, which goes from thence to London.”
”A coach is not for the like of me, sir,” said Jeanie, to whom the idea of a stage-coach was unknown, as, indeed, they were then only used in the neighbourhood of London.
Mr. Staunton briefly explained that she would find that mode of conveyance more commodious, cheaper, and more safe, than travelling on horseback. She expressed her grat.i.tude with so much singleness of heart, that he was induced to ask her whether she wanted the pecuniary means of prosecuting her journey. She thanked him, but said she had enough for her purpose; and, indeed, she had husbanded her stock with great care. This reply served also to remove some doubts, which naturally enough still floated in Mr. Staunton's mind, respecting her character and real purpose, and satisfied him, at least, that money did not enter into her scheme of deception, if an impostor she should prove. He next requested to know what part of the city she wished to go to.
”To a very decent merchant, a cousin o' my ain, a Mrs. Gla.s.s, sir, that sells snuff and tobacco, at the sign o' the Thistle, somegate in the town.”
Jeanie communicated this intelligence with a feeling that a connection so respectable ought to give her consequence in the eyes of Mr. Staunton; and she was a good deal surprised when he answered--
”And is this woman your only acquaintance in London, my poor girl? and have you really no better knowledge where she is to be found?”
”I was gaun to see the Duke of Argyle, forby Mrs. Gla.s.s,” said Jeanie; ”and if your honour thinks it would be best to go there first, and get some of his Grace's folk to show me my cousin's shop”
”Are you acquainted with any of the Duke of Argyle's people?” said the Rector.
”No, sir.”
”Her brain must be something touched after all, or it would be impossible for her to rely on such introductions.--Well,” said he aloud, ”I must not inquire into the cause of your journey, and so I cannot be fit to give you advice how to manage it. But the landlady of the house where the coach stops is a very decent person; and as I use her house sometimes, I will give you a recommendation to her.”
Jeanie thanked him for his kindness with her best courtesy, and said, ”That with his honour's line, and ane from worthy Mrs. Bickerton, that keeps the Seven Stars at York, she did not doubt to be well taken out in Lunnon.”
”And now,” said he, ”I presume you will be desirous to set out immediately.”
”If I had been in an inn, sir, or any suitable resting-place,” answered Jeanie, ”I wad not have presumed to use the Lord's day for travelling but as I am on a journey of mercy, I trust my doing so will not be imputed.”
”You may, if you choose, remain with Mrs. Dalton for the evening; but I desire you will have no farther correspondence with my son, who is not a proper counsellor for a person of your age, whatever your difficulties may be.”