"Perfectly, sir," I replied; "but you will please to observe that that William Smith is not my father. He's a totally different person."
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Drysdale, "not your father! Who is he, then? I didn't know there was any other William Smith, of any note in trade, in your town. I did not, indeed, look particularly at the designation; but took it for granted it was your father, as, to my certain knowledge, many others have also done."
"Indeed!" replied I; "why, that is mair serious. Some steps maun be taen to remedy that mischief."
"Without a moment's delay," said Mr. Drysdale, who was already a changed man. "Your father must advertise directly, saying he's not the William Smith whose name appears in the bankrupt list of such a date. Lose not a moment in doing this, or your credit'll be cracked throughout the three kingdoms. It has already suffered seriously here, I can assure you."
Having paid Mr. Drysdale his account, which he wasna noo for acceptin—sayin that, if we had the sma'est occasion for the money, to use it freely, without regardin them—and havin thanked him for his advice as to counteracting the evil report that had gane abroad respectin us, I hurried awa to put it in execution; and thinkin it very hard to be subjected to a' this trouble sae innocently, and to hae, at ane and the same time, a pair o' such calamities sae oddly thrust upon me, as my ain death, and the bankruptcy o' my faither. However, sae it was. But my business noo was to remedy, as far as possible, the mischief that had been done by the unfounded rumour o' oor insolvency. Wi' this view I hastened awa to a newspaper office, to begin the cure by an advertisement; and, in doin this, I had occasion to pass the coach-office whar I had landed the day before. Observin the place, I thocht I micht as weel step in and secure my ticket for the following day, when it was my intention to return hame. Accordingly, into the office I gaed; and, whan I did sae, I fand the clerk in earnest conversation wi' twa men, ane o' whom was busily employed in lookin owre the way-book or register o' passengers' names. They didna at first observe me enter; but, whan they did, there was an instant pause in their conversation; and I observed the clerk, after he had glanced at me, tippin a significant wink to ane, and gently punchin the other wi' his elbow. Then a' three glanced at me. I couldna understand it. However, I said nothing; thinkin they were settlin some private business thegither, and, oot o' guid nature, wad rather wait a minute or twa than interrupt them. But my waiting wasna lang. Before I had been an instant in the office, ane o' the men cam roun to whar I was stan'in, and, lookin me fiercely in the face, said—
"What's your name, sir, if you please?"
"My name, sir!" replied I, as angrily—for I thocht the fellow put the question in a very impertinent sort o' way—"what business hae ye wi' my name?"
"Oh, mair than ye're aware o', p'raps," says he. "An' it's a bad sign o' a man whan he'll no tell his name," says he. This touched me to the quick, an' I dare say the vagabond kent it wad, an' did it on purpose. It was a wipe at my character which I could by nae means submit to. So says I to him, says I—
"Freen, ye'll observe that I'm no denyin my name—I'm only disputin yer richt to demand it. I'm no ashamed o' my name, sir, although it certainly has cost me some trouble in my day. My name, sir, is William Smith—sae mak o't what ye like."
"I should mak a couple o' guineas o't, at the very least," said the fellow, wi' a smile; and at the same time catchin me by the breast o' my coat, and sayin that I was his prisoner.