Presently 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.
"Go into the kitchen and touch naething," 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.
The fire had burned up fairly bright, and showed me the barest
room I think I ever put my eyes on. Half-a-dozen dishes stood upon
the shelves; the table was laid for supper with a bowl of porridge,
a horn spoon, and a cup of small beer. Besides what I have named,
there was not another thing in that great, stone-vaulted, empty
chamber but lockfast chests arranged along the wall and a corner
cupboard with a padlock.
As soon as the last chain was up, the man rejoined me. He was a
mean, stooping, narrow-shouldered, clay-faced creature; and his age
might have been anything between fifty and seventy. His nightcap
was of flannel, and so was the nightgown that he wore, instead of
coat and waistcoat, over his ragged shirt. He 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. What 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.
"Are ye sharp-set?" he asked, glancing at about the level of my
knee. "Ye can eat that drop parritch?"
I said I feared it was his own supper.
"O," said he, "I can do fine wanting it. I'll take the ale,
though, for it slockens (moistens) my cough." He drank the cup
about half out, still keeping an eye upon me as he drank; and then
suddenly held out his hand. "Let's see the letter," said he.
I told him the letter was for Mr. Balfour; not for him.
"And who do ye think I am?" says he. "Give me Alexander's
"You know my father's name?"
"It would be strange if I didnae," he returned, "for he was my
born brother; and little as ye seem to like either me or my house,
or my good parritch, I'm your born uncle, Davie, my man, and you my
born nephew. So give us the letter, and sit down and fill your
If I had been some years younger, what with shame, weariness,
and disappointment, I believe I had burst into tears. As 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.
Meanwhile, my uncle, stooping over the fire, turned the letter
over and over in his hands.
"Do ye ken what's in it?" he asked, suddenly.
"You see for yourself, sir," said I, "that the seal has not been
"Ay," said he, "but what brought you here?"
"To give the letter," said I.
"No," says he, cunningly, "but ye'll have had some hopes, nae
"I 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. But I am no beggar; I look for no favours at your
hands, and I want none that are not freely given. For as poor as I
appear, I have friends of my own that will be blithe to help
"Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "dinnae fly up in the snuff at
me. We'll agree fine yet. And, Davie, my man, if you're done with
that bit parritch, I could just take a sup of it myself. Ay," he
continued, as soon as he had ousted me from the stool and spoon,
"they're fine, halesome food—they're grand food, parritch." He
murmured a little grace to himself and fell to. "Your father was
very fond of his meat, I mind; he was a hearty, if not a great
eater; but as for me, I could never do mair than pyke at food." He
took a pull at the small beer, which probably reminded him of
hospitable duties, for his next speech ran thus: "If ye're dry
ye'll find water behind the door."
To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet,
and looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart. He, 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 home-spun stockings. Once 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. This
set me in a muse, whether his timidity arose from too long a disuse
of any human company; and whether perhaps, upon a little trial, it
might pass off, and my uncle change into an altogether different
man. From this I was awakened by his sharp voice.
"Your father's been long dead?" he asked.
"Three weeks, sir," said I.
"He was a secret man, Alexander—a secret, silent man," he
continued. "He never said muckle when he was young. He'll never
have spoken muckle of me?"
"I never knew, sir, till you told it me yourself, that he had
"Dear me, dear me!" said Ebenezer. "Nor yet of Shaws, I dare
"Not so much as the name, sir," said I.
"To think o' that!" said he. "A strange nature of a man!" For
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. Certainly, 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. "We'll agree fine yet!" he cried. "I'm
just as glad I let you in. And now come awa' to your bed."
To 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. I 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. I did as he bid, but
paused after a few steps, and begged a light to go to bed with.
"Hoot-toot!" said Uncle Ebenezer, "there's a fine moon."
"Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk," said I. "I cannae see the bed."
"Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" said he. "Lights in a house is a thing I
dinnae agree with. I'm unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye,
Davie, 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
I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as
a well, and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a
peat-hag; but 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.
With 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. Ten years
ago, or perhaps twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie
down or to awake in as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse,
and the mice and spiders had done their worst since then. Many 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.
Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in
that miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and
let me out. He carried me to the back of the house, where was a
draw-well, and told me to "wash my face there, if I wanted;" and
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. The
table was laid with two bowls and two horn spoons, but the same
single measure of small beer. Perhaps 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.
I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about.
"Na, na," said he; "I'll deny you nothing in reason."
He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great
surprise, instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half
from one cup to the other. There was a kind of nobleness in this
that took my breath away; if my uncle was certainly a miser, he was
one of that thorough breed that goes near to make the vice
When 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. Then he
sat down in the sun at one of the windows and silently smoked. From
time to time his eyes came coasting round to me, and he shot out
one of his questions. Once it was, "And your mother?" and when I
had told him that she, too, was dead, "Ay, she was a bonnie
lassie!" Then, after another long pause, "Whae were these friends
I 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.
He seemed to turn this over in his mind; and then, "Davie, my
man," said he, "ye've come to the right bit when ye came to your
uncle Ebenezer. I'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 mysel' of
what's the best thing to put you to—whether the law, or the
meenistry, or maybe the army, whilk is what boys are fondest of—I
wouldnae like the Balfours to be humbled before a wheen Hieland
Campbells, and I'll ask you to keep your tongue within your teeth.
Nae letters; nae messages; no kind of word to onybody; or
else—there's my door."
"Uncle Ebenezer," said I, "I've no manner of reason to suppose
you mean anything but well by me. For all that, I would have you to
know that I have a pride of my own. It 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."
He seemed grievously put out. "Hoots-toots," said he, "ca'
cannie, man—ca' cannie! Bide a day or two. I'm nae warlock, to find
a fortune for you in the bottom of a parritch bowl; but just you
give me a day or two, and say naething to naebody, and as sure as
sure, I'll do the right by you."
"Very well," said I, "enough said. If you want to help me,
there's no doubt but I'll be glad of it, and none but I'll be
It 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.
"Is this my house or yours?" said he, in his keen voice, and
then all of a sudden broke off. "Na, na," said he, "I didnae mean
that. What's mine is yours, Davie, my man, and what's yours is
mine. Blood's thicker than water; and there's naebody but you and
me that ought the name." And 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 Jennet Clouston's message.
"The limmer!" he cried. "Twelve hunner and fifteen—that's every
day since I had the limmer rowpit! Dod,
David, I'll have her roasted on red peats before I'm by with it! A
witch—a proclaimed witch! I'll aff and see the session clerk."
And with 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. These he threw on any way, and taking a
staff from the cupboard, locked all up again, and was for setting
out, when a thought arrested him.
"I cannae leave you by yoursel' in the house," said he. "I'll
have to lock you out."
The blood came to my face. "If you lock me out," I said, "it'll
be the last you'll see of me in friendship."
He turned very pale, and sucked his mouth in.
"This is no the way" he said, looking wickedly at a corner of
the floor—"this is no the way to win my favour, David."
"Sir," says I, "with a proper reverence for your age and our
common blood, I do not value your favour at a boddle's purchase. I
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."
Uncle Ebenezer went and looked out of the window for awhile. I
could see him all trembling and twitching, like a man with palsy.
But when he turned round, he had a smile upon his face.
"Well, well," said he, "we must bear and forbear. I'll no go;
that's all that's to be said of it."
"Uncle Ebenezer," I said, "I can make nothing out of this. You
use me like a thief; you hate to have me in this house; you let me
see it, every word and every minute: it's not possible that you can
like me; and as for me, I've spoken to you as I never thought to
speak to any man. Why do you seek to keep me, then? Let me gang
back—let me gang back to the friends I have, and that like me!"
"Na, na; na, na," he said, very earnestly. "I like you fine;
we'll agree fine yet; and for the honour of the house I couldnae
let you leave the way ye came. Bide here quiet, there's a good lad;
just you bide here quiet a bittie, and ye'll find that we
"Well, sir," said I, after I had thought the matter out in
silence, "I'll stay awhile. It's more just I should be helped by my
own blood than strangers; and if we don't agree, I'll do my best it
shall be through no fault of mine."