The Ayrshire Legatees | Page 9

of
the sin of high places, and would gladly have got into the inside of the
coach, for fear of anybody knowing me; but although the multitude of
by-goers was like the kirk scailing at the Sacrament, I saw not a kent

face, nor one that took the least notice of my situation. At last we got to
an inn, called The White Horse, Fetter-Lane, where we hired a hackney
to take us to the lodgings provided for us here in Norfolk Street, by Mr.
Pawkie, the Scotch solicitor, a friend of Andrew Pringle, my son. Now
it was that we began to experience the sharpers of London; for it seems
that there are divers Norfolk Streets. Ours was in the Strand (mind that
when you direct), not very far from Fetter-Lane; but the hackney driver
took us away to one afar off, and when we knocked at the number we
thought was ours, we found ourselves at a house that should not be told.
I was so mortified, that I did not know what to say; and when Andrew
Pringle, my son, rebuked the man for the mistake, he only gave a
cunning laugh, and said we should have told him whatna Norfolk Street
we wanted. Andrew stormed at this--but I discerned it was all owing to
our own inexperience, and put an end to the contention, by telling the
man to take us to Norfolk Street in the Strand, which was the direction
we had got. But when we got to the door, the coachman was so
extortionate, that another hobbleshaw arose. Mrs. Pringle had been told
that, in such disputes, the best way of getting redress was to take the
number of the coach; but, in trying to do so, we found it fastened on,
and I thought the hackneyman would have gone by himself with
laughter. Andrew, who had not observed what we were doing, when he
saw us trying to take off the number, went like one demented, and paid
the man, I cannot tell what, to get us out, and into the house, for fear we
should have been mobbit.
I have not yet seen the colonel's agents, so can say nothing as to the
business of our coming; for, landing at Gravesend, we did not bring our
trunks with us, and Andrew has gone to the wharf this morning to get
them, and, until we get them, we can go nowhere, which is the occasion
of my writing so soon, knowing also how you and the whole parish
would be anxious to hear what had become of us; and I remain, dear sir,
your friend and pastor,
ZACHARIAH PRINGLE.
On Saturday evening, Saunders Dickie, the Irvine postman, suspecting
that this letter was from the Doctor, went with it himself, on his own

feet, to Mr. Micklewham, although the distance is more than two miles,
but Saunders, in addition to the customary TWAL PENNIES on the
postage, had a dram for his pains. The next morning being wet, Mr.
Micklewham had not an opportunity of telling any of the parishioners
in the churchyard of the Doctor's safe arrival, so that when he read out
the request to return thanks (for he was not only school-master and
session-clerk, but also precentor), there was a murmur of pleasure
diffused throughout the congregation, and the greatest curiosity was
excited to know what the dangers were, from which their worthy pastor
and his whole family had so thankfully escaped in their voyage to
London; so that, when the service was over, the elders adjourned to the
session-house to hear the letter read; and many of the heads of families,
and other respectable parishioners, were admitted to the honours of the
sitting, who all sympathised, with the greatest sincerity, in the
sufferings which their minister and his family had endured. Mr. Daff,
however, was justly chided by Mr. Craig, for rubbing his hands, and
giving a sort of sniggering laugh, at the Doctor's sitting on high with a
light woman. But even Mr. Snodgrass was seen to smile at the incident
of taking the number off the coach, the meaning of which none but
himself seemed to understand.
When the epistle had been thus duly read, Mr. Micklewham promised,
for the satisfaction of some of the congregation, that he would get two
or three copies made by the best writers in his school, to be handed
about the parish, and Mr. Icenor remarked, that truly it was a thing to
be held in remembrance, for he had not heard of greater tribulation by
the waters since the shipwreck of the Apostle Paul.
CHAPTER III--THE
LEGACY

Soon after the receipt of the letters which we had the pleasure of
communicating in the foregoing chapter, the following was received
from Mrs. Pringle,