Master of Ballantrae | Page 5

baldness," replied I, "and I am
sure there in nothing so interesting. I would have all literature bald, and
all authors (if you like) but one."
"Well, well," add Mr. Thomson, "we shall see."

CHAPTER I
. - SUMMARY OF EVENTS DURING THIS MASTER'S
WANDERINGS.

The full truth of this odd matter is what the world has long been
looking for, and public curiosity is sure to welcome. It so befell that I
was intimately mingled with the last years and history of the house; and
there does not live one man so able as myself to make these matters
plain, or so desirous to narrate them faithfully. I knew the Master; on
many secret steps of his career I have an authentic memoir in my hand;
I sailed with him on his last voyage almost alone; I made one upon that
winter's journey of which so many tales have gone abroad; and I was
there at the man's death. As for my late Lord Durrisdeer, I served him
and loved him near twenty years; and thought more of him the more I
knew of him. Altogether, I think it not fit that so much evidence should
perish; the truth is a debt I owe my lord's memory; and I think my old
years will flow more smoothly, and my white hair lie quieter on the
pillow, when the debt is paid.
The Duries of Durrisdeer and Ballantrae were a strong family in the
south-west from the days of David First. A rhyme still current in the
countryside -
Kittle folk are the Durrisdeers, They ride wi' over mony spears -
bears the mark of its antiquity; and the name appears in another, which
common report attributes to Thomas of Ercildoune himself - I cannot
say how truly, and which some have applied - I dare not say with how
much justice - to the events of this narration:
Twa Duries in Durrisdeer, Ane to tie and ane to ride, An ill day for the
groom And a waur day for the bride.
Authentic history besides is filled with their exploits which (to our
modern eyes) seem not very commendable: and the family suffered its
full share of those ups and downs to which the great houses of Scotland

have been ever liable. But all these I pass over, to come to that
memorable year 1745, when the foundations of this tragedy were laid.
At that time there dwelt a family of four persons in the house of
Durrisdeer, near St. Bride's, on the Solway shore; a chief hold of their
race since the Reformation. My old lord, eighth of the name, was not
old in years, but he suffered prematurely from the disabilities of age;
his place was at the chimney side; there he sat reading, in a lined gown,
with few words for any man, and wry words for none: the model of an
old retired housekeeper; and yet his mind very well nourished with
study, and reputed in the country to be more cunning than he seemed.
The master of Ballantrae, James in baptism, took from his father the
love of serious reading; some of his tact perhaps as well, but that which
was only policy in the father became black dissimulation in the son.
The face of his behaviour was merely popular and wild: he sat late at
wine, later at the cards; had the name in the country of "an unco man
for the lasses;" and was ever in the front of broils. But for all he was the
first to go in, yet it was observed he was invariably the best to come off;
and his partners in mischief were usually alone to pay the piper. This
luck or dexterity got him several ill-wishers, but with the rest of the
country, enhanced his reputation; so that great things were looked for in
his future, when he should have gained more gravity. One very black
mark he had to his name; but the matter was hushed up at the time, and
so defaced by legends before I came into those parts, that I scruple to
set it down. If it was true, it was a horrid fact in one so young; and if
false, it was a horrid calumny. I think it notable that he had always
vaunted himself quite implacable, and was taken at his word; so that he
had the addition among his neighbours of "an ill man to cross." Here
was altogether a young nobleman (not yet twenty-four in the year '45)
who had made a figure in the country beyond his time of life. The less
marvel if there were little heard of the second son, Mr. Henry (my late
Lord Durrisdeer), who was neither very bad nor yet very