Chapter XXX. Good-Bye

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　So far as I was concerned myself, I had come to port; but I hadstill Alan, to whom I was so much beholden, on my hands; and Ifelt besides a heavy charge in the matter of the murder and Jamesof the Glens. On both these heads I unbosomed to Rankeillor thenext morning, walking to and fro about six of the clock beforethe house of Shaws, and with nothing in view but the fields andwoods that had been my ancestors' and were now mine. Even as Ispoke on these grave subjects, my eye would take a glad bit of arun over the prospect, and my heart jump with pride.About my clear duty to my friend, the lawyer had no doubt. Imust help him out of the county at whatever risk; but in the caseof James, he was of a different mind."Mr. Thomson," says he, "is one thing, Mr. Thomson's kinsmanquite another. I know little of the facts, but I gather that agreat noble (whom we will call, if you like, the D. of A.)[36]has some concern and is even supposed to feel some animosity inthe matter. The D. of A. is doubtless an excellent nobleman;but, Mr. David, timeo qui nocuere deos. If you interfere to balkhis vengeance, you should remember there is one way to shut yourtestimony out; and that is to put you in the dock. There, youwould be in the same pickle as Mr. Thomson's kinsman. You willobject that you are innocent; well, but so is he. And to betried for your life before a Highland jury, on a Highland quarreland with a Highland Judge upon the bench, would be a brieftransition to the gallows."[36]The Duke of Argyle.Now I had made all these reasonings before and found no very goodreply to them; so I put on all the simplicity I could. "In thatcase, sir," said I, "I would just have to be hanged -- would Inot?""My dear boy," cries he, "go in God's name, and do what you thinkis right. It is a poor thought that at my time of life I shouldbe advising you to choose the safe and shameful; and I take itback with an apology. Go and do your duty; and be hanged, if youmust, like a gentleman. There are worse things in the world thanto be hanged.""Not many, sir," said I, smiling."Why, yes, sir," he cried, "very many. And it would be ten timesbetter for your uncle (to go no farther afield) if he weredangling decently upon a gibbet."Thereupon he turned into the house (still in a great fervour ofmind, so that I saw I had pleased him heartily) and there hewrote me two letters, making his comments on them as he wrote."This," says he, "is to my bankers, the British Linen Company,placing a credit to your name. Consult Mr. Thomson, he will knowof ways; and you, with this credit, can supply the means. Itrust you will be a good husband of your money; but in the affairof a friend like Mr. Thompson, I would be even prodigal. Thenfor his kinsman, there is no better way than that you should seekthe Advocate, tell him your tale, and offer testimony; whether hemay take it or not, is quite another matter, and will turn on theD. of A. Now, that you may reach the Lord Advocate wellrecommended, I give you here a letter to a namesake of your own,the learned Mr. Balfour of Pilrig, a man whom I esteem. It willlook better that you should be presented by one of your own name;and the laird of Pilrig is much looked up to in the Faculty andstands well with Lord Advocate Grant. I would not trouble him,if I were you, with any particulars; and (do you know?) I thinkit would be needless to refer to Mr. Thomson. Form yourself uponthe laird, he is a good model; when you deal with the Advocate,be discreet; and in all these matters, may the Lord guide you,Mr. David!"Thereupon he took his farewell, and set out with Torrance for theFerry, while Alan and I turned our faces for the city ofEdinburgh. As we went by the footpath and beside the gatepostsand the unfinished lodge, we kept looking back at the house of myfathers. It stood there, bare and great and smokeless, like aplace not lived in; only in one of the top windows, there was thepeak of a nightcap bobbing up and down and back and forward, likethe head of a rabbit from a burrow. I had little welcome when Icame, and less kindness while I stayed; but at least I waswatched as I went away.Alan and I went slowly forward upon our way, having little hearteither to walk or speak. The same thought was uppermost in both,that we were near the time of our parting; and remembrance of allthe bygone days sate upon us sorely. We talked indeed of whatshould be done; and it was resolved that Alan should keep to thecounty, biding now here, now there, but coming once in the day toa particular place where I might be able to communicate with him,either in my own person or by messenger. In the meanwhile, I wasto seek out a lawyer, who was an Appin Stewart, and a mantherefore to be wholly trusted; and it should be his part to finda ship and to arrange for Alan's safe embarkation. No sooner wasthis business done, than the words seemed to leave us; and thoughI would seek to jest with Alan under the name of Mr. Thomson, andhe with me on my new clothes and my estate, you could feel verywell that we were nearer tears than laughter.We came the by-way over the hill of Corstorphine; and when we gotnear to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down onCorstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on thehill, we both stopped, for we both knew without a word said thatwe had come to where our ways parted. Here he repeated to meonce again what had been agreed upon between us: the address ofthe lawyer, the daily hour at which Alan might be found, and thesignals that were to be made by any that came seeking him. ThenI gave what money I had (a guinea or two of Rankeillor's) so thathe should not starve in the meanwhile; and then we stood a space,and looked over at Edinburgh in silence."Well, good-bye," said Alan, and held out his left hand."Good-bye," said I, and gave the hand a little grasp, and wentoff down hill.Neither one of us looked the other in the face, nor so long as hewas in my view did I take one back glance at the friend I wasleaving. But as I went on my way to the city, I felt so lost andlonesome, that I could have found it in my heart to sit down bythe dyke, and cry and weep like any baby.It was coming near noon when I passed in by the West Kirk and theGrassmarket into the streets of the capital. The huge height ofthe buildings, running up to ten and fifteen storeys, the narrowarched entries that continually vomited passengers, the wares ofthe merchants in their windows, the hubbub and endless stir, thefoul smells and the fine clothes, and a hundred other particularstoo small to mention, struck me into a kind of stupor ofsurprise, so that I let the crowd carry me to and fro; and yetall the time what I was thinking of was Alan atRest-and-be-Thankful; and all the time (although you would thinkI would not choose but be delighted with these braws andnovelties) there was a cold gnawing in my inside like a remorsefor something wrong.The hand of Providence brought me in my drifting to the verydoors of the British Linen Company's bank.