I got this copy of his song since, else I could not have recollected it from that hearing; for I was too impatient to put the plan into execution for which I had come out, to attend even to this immortalising of an ancestor.
I knew Ingram at once by his blue jacket, and the corkscrews which bobbed over each temple as he nodded and swayed his head to the flourishes of “the gaberlunzie man” (the measure which Halliday had chosen for his words); so when the song was finished, and I had drank a health to Robin’s muse, I stepped across to where he sat, and said I wished to speak with him alone. He put down his jug of punch, and followed me into my own room. I closed the door and told him, that as I understood him to be in the Channel trade, I applied to know if he could put me on any expeditious conveyance to the coast of France. “Why, sir,” said he, “I could give you a cast myself in our own tight thing, the Saucy Sally, as far as Douglas or the Calf; and for the rest of the trip, why there’s our consort, the Little Sweep, that will be thereabouts this week, would run you up, if it would lie in your way, as far as Guernsey, or, if need be, to Belle Isle.” “Belle Isle!” repeated I, with a start; for the words of O’More to the priest came suddenly upon my recollection, “Has any boat left this coast or that of Man for Belle Isle within the last fortnight?” “Not a keel, sir; there’s ne’er a boat just now in the Channel that could do it but herself—they call her the Deil-sweep, sir, among the revenue sharks; for that’s all that they could ever make of her. She is the only boat, sir, as I have said, and if so be you are a gentleman in distress, you will not be the only one that will have cause to trust to her—but, d—n it (he muttered), those women—well, what of that?—Mayn’t I lend a hand to save a fine fellow for all that?—but harkye, brother, this is all in confidence.”
“Your confidence shall not be abused,” whispered I, hardly able to breathe for eager hope—the female passengers—the desire for exclusion—the only boat that fortnight, all confirmed me. “Mr O’More and I are friends; fear neither for him nor yourself; let me only get first on board, and I can rough it all night on deck, as many a time I’ve done before: his daughter and her woman can have your cabin to themselves.” It was a bold guess, but all right; he gaped at me for a minute in dumb astonishment; then closing one hand upon the earnest which I here slipped into it, drew the other across his eyes, as if to satisfy himself that he was not dreaming, and in a respectful tone informed me that they intended sailing on the next night from Cairn Castle shore. “We take the squire up off Island Magee, sir; he has been lying to on the look-out for us there for the last ten days; so that if you want to bear a hand in getting the young lady aboard, it will be all arranged to your liking.”
During this conversation, my whole being underwent a wonderful change; from the collapsing sickness of bereavement, I felt my heart and limbs expand themselves under the delightful enlargement of this new spring of hope: I shook Ingram by the hand, led him back to the kitchen, and returned turned to the old man with a step so elated, and with such a kindling of animation over my whole appearance, that he exclaimed, in high glee, “Heard ye ever sic verses at Oxford, Willie? Odd! man, Rab Halliday is as good as a dozen o’ Janet’s possets for ye; I’ll hae him here again to sing to ye the morn’s e’en.”
“He is a very pleasant fellow—a very pleasant fellow indeed, sir; but I fear I shall not be able to enjoy his company to-morrow night, as I purpose taking my passage for the Isle of Man in Ingram’s boat.”—“Nonsense, Willy, nonsense; ye wadna make yoursell ‘hail, billy, weel met,’ wi’ gallows-birds and vagabonds—though, as for Paul himsell”——“My dear sir, you know I have my passport, and need not care for the reputation of my hired servants; besides, sir, you know how fond I am of excitement of all sorts, and the rogue really sings so well”——
“That he does, Willy. Weel, weel—he that will to Cupar maun to Cupar!” and so saying, he lifted up his candle and marched off the field without another blow.
Ingram and I started next evening about four o’clock, attended by little Davie, who was to bring back the horse I rode next day; Ingram, whose occupation lay as much on land as sea, was quite at home on his rough sheltie, which carried also a couple of little panniers at either side of the pommel, well-primed with samples of his contraband commodities. We arrived a little after nightfall in Larne, where we left Davie with the horses, while Ingram, having disposed of his pony, joined me on foot, and we set off by the now bright light of the moon along the hills for Cairn Castle.
During the first three or four miles of our walk, he entertained me with abundance of songs echoed loud and long across the open mountain; but when we descended from it towards the sea, we both kept silence and a sharp look-out over the unequal and bleak country between. We now got among low clumpy hills and furzy gullies, and had to pick our steps through loose scattered lumps of rock, which were lying all round us white in the clear moonshine, like flocks of sheep upon the hill-side. The wind was off the shore, and we did not hear the noise of the water till, at the end of one ravine, we turned the angular jut of a low promontory, and beheld the image of the moon swinging in its still swell at our feet.
Ingram whistled, and was answered from the shore a little farther on; he stepped out a few paces in advance, and led forward; presently I saw a light figure glide out of the shadow in front and approach us.
“Vell, mine Apostéle Paul, vat news of the Ephesiens?”