Yes! I love justice well--as well as you do--But since the good dame's blind, she shall excuse me If, time and reason fitting, I prove dumb;--The breath I utter now shall be no means To take away from me my breath in future.
Old Play.
By dint of charity from the town's-people in aid of the load of provisions he had brought with him into durance, Edie Ochiltree had passed a day or two's confinement without much impatience, regretting his want of freedom the less, as the weather proved broken and rainy.
``The prison,'' he said, ``wasna sae dooms bad a place as it was ca'd.Ye had aye a good roof ower your head to fend aff the weather, and, if the windows werena glazed, it was the mair airy and pleasant for the summer season.And there were folk enow to crack wi', and he had bread eneugh to eat, and what need he fash himsell about the rest o't?''
The courage of our philosophical mendicant began, however, to abate, when the sunbeams shone fair on the rusty bars of his grated dungeon, and a miserable linnet, whose cage some poor debtor had obtained permission to attach to the window, began to greet them with his whistle.
``Ye're in better spirits than I am,'' said Edie, addressing the bird, ``for I can neither whistle nor sing for thinking o' the bonny burnsides and green shaws that I should hae been dandering beside in weather like this.But hae--there's some crumbs t'ye, an ye are sae merry; and troth ye hae some reason to sing an ye kent it, for your cage comes by nae faut o' your ain, and I may thank mysell that I am closed up in this weary place.''
Ochiltree's soliloquy was disturbed by a peace-officer, who came to summon him to attend the magistrate.So he set forth in awful procession between two poor creatures, neither of them so stout as he was himself, to be conducted into the presence of inquisitorial justice.The people, as the aged prisoner was led along by his decrepit guards, exclaimed to each other, ``Eh! see sic a grey-haired man as that is, to have committed a highway robbery, wi' ae fit in the grave!''--And the children congratulated the officers, objects of their alternate dread and sport, Puggie Orrock and Jock Ormston, on having a prisoner as old as themselves.
Thus marshalled forward, Edie was presented (by no means for the first time) before the worshipful Bailie Littlejohn, who, contrary to what his name expressed, was a tall portly magistrate, on whom corporation crusts had not been conferred in vain.He was a zealous loyalist of that zealous time, somewhat rigorous and peremptory in the execution of his duty, and a good deal inflated with the sense of his own power and importance;--otherwise an honest, well-meaning, and useful citizen.
``Bring him in! bring him in!'' he exclaimed.``Upon my word these are awful and unnatural times! the very bedesmen and retainers of his Majesty are the first to break his laws.
Here has been an old Blue-Gown committing robbery--I suppose the next will reward the royal charity which supplies him with his garb, pension, and begging license, by engaging in high-treason, or sedition at least--But bring him in.''
Edie made his obeisance, and then stood, as usual, firm and erect, with the side of his face turned a little upward, as if to catch every word which the magistrate might address to him.
To the first general questions, which respected only his name and calling, the mendicant answered with readiness and accuracy;but when the magistrate, having caused his clerk to take down these particulars, began to inquire whereabout the mendicant was on the night when Dousterswivel met with his misfortune, Edie demurred to the motion.``Can ye tell me now, Bailie, you that understands the law, what gude will it do me to answer ony o' your questions?''
``Good?--no good certainly, my friend, except that giving a true account of yourself, if you are innocent, may entitle me to set you at liberty.''
``But it seems mair reasonable to me now, that you, Bailie, or anybody that has anything to say against me, should prove my guilt, and no to be bidding me prove my innocence.''
``I don't sit here,'' answered the magistrate, ``to dispute points of law with you.I ask you, if you choose to answer my question, whether you were at Ringan Aikwood, the forester's, upon the day I have specified?''
``Really, sir, I dinna feel myself called on to remember,''
replied the cautious bedesman.
``Or whether, in the course of that day or night,'' continued the magistrate, ``you saw Steven, or Steenie, Mucklebackit?--you knew him, I suppose?''
``O, brawlie did I ken Steenie, puir fallow,'' replied the prisoner;--``but I canna condeshend on ony particular time Ihave seen him lately.''
``Were you at the ruins of St.Ruth any time in the course of that evening?''
``Bailie Littlejohn,'' said the mendicant, ``if it be your honour's pleasure, we'll cut a lang tale short, and I'll just tell ye, I am no minded to answer ony o' thae questions--I'm ower auld a traveller to let my tongue bring me into trouble.''
``Write down,'' said the magistrate, ``that he declines to answer all interrogatories, in respect that by telling the truth he might be brought to trouble.''
``Na, na,'' said Ochiltree, ``I'll no hae that set down as ony part o' my answer--but I just meant to say, that in a' my memory and practice, I never saw ony gude come o' answering idle questions.''
``Write down,'' said the Bailie, ``that, being acquainted with judicial interrogatories by long practice, and having sustained injury by answering questions put to him on such occasions, the declarant refuses''--``Na, na, Bailie,'' reiterated Edie, ``ye are no to come in on me that gait neither.''
``Dictate the answer yourself then, friend,'' said the magistrate, ``and the clerk will take it down from your own mouth.''