who is presented
in society by the King's Advocate."
Often enough already (in our brief relations) this gentleman had caused
my head to spin; no doubt but what for a moment he did so again now.
Here was the old fiction still maintained of my particular favour with
his daughters, one of whom had been so good as laugh at me, while the
other two had scarce deigned to remark the fact of my existence. And now
I was to ride with my lord to Glascow; I was to dwell with him in
Edinburgh; I was to be brought into society under his protection! That
he should have so much good-nature as to forgive me was surprising
enough; that he could wish to take me up and serve me seemed impossible;
and I began to seek for some ulterior meaning. One was plain. If I
became his guest, repentance was excluded; I could never think better of
my present design and bring any action. And besides, would not my
presence in his house draw out the whole pungency of the memorial? For
that complaint could not be very seriously regarded, if the person
chiefly injured was the guest of the official most incriminated. As I
thought upon this, I could not quite refrain from smiling.
"This is in the nature of a countercheck to the memorial?" said I.
"You are cunning, Mr. David," said he, "and you do not wholly guess
wrong; the fact will be of use to me in my defence. Perhaps, however,
you underrate my friendly sentiments, which are perfectly genuine. I
have a respect for you, Mr. David, mingled with awe," says he, smiling.
"I am more than willing, I am earnestly desirous to meet your wishes,"
said I. "It is my design to be called to the bar, where your lordship's
countenance would be invaluable; and I am besides sincerely grateful to
yourself and family for different marks of interest and of indulgence.
The difficulty is here. There is one point in which we pull two ways.
You are trying to hang James Stewart, I am trying to save him. In so far
as my riding with you would better your lordship's defence, I am at your
lordship's orders; but in so far as it would help to hang James Stewart,
you see me at a stick."
I thought he swore to himself. "You should certainly be called; the bar
is the true scene for your talents," says he, bitterly, and then fell a
while silent. "I will tell you," he presently resumed, "there is no
question of James Stewart, for or against. James is a dead man; his life
is given and taken--bought (if you like it better) and sold; no m
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