Popular notice, the bagman very weel saw, he had attained by some means or other; but he also saw as weel that this by no means meant popular admiration; for in every face that was turned towards him there was an angry scowl. Amazed and confounded at bein thus so strangely and disagreeably marked, the poor little Englishman looked first at his legs, and then at his horse, leanin forward for this purpose, and then examined his own outer man all over, to see if he could discern onything wrang wi' either, that micht account for his sudden elevation in the public mind; but he found nothing—a' was richt, and the little bagman was more perplexed than ever. He rode on, however—as what else could he do?—and at length entered the town. Here the general attention became still more strikingly marked: people stood on the streets and stared broadly at him; and, when he had passed, looked after him, and shook their heads. At length matters came to a crisis. This approached by occasional cries of "Doun wi' the rebel!" "Doun wi' the Scottish cut-throat!" "Hang the robber!" "Head him! head him!" If confounded before, the little bagman was now ten times more so. These terms could never apply to him, and yet they were most palpably directed to him. What on earth could it mean? To be taken, too, for a character which of all others he most abhorred. It was unaccountable—most extraordinary. In the meantime, both the cries and the crowd increased, till the latter at length fairly surrounded the little bagman and his horse, and peremptorily arrested his progress, still shoutin, but with greater ferocity, "Doun wi' the rebel!"
"Good people," said the perplexed and terrified cratur, "what do you mean? Hear me for a moment. I'm no rebel. I detest them as much as you can do. I am an Englishman—a born Englishman."
"Yes, when it suits your purpose, ye cowardly Scottish dog!" exclaimed one of the crowd, advancin towards him, and seizin him by a leg.
"We know you too well by your head-mark," said a second, bustlin forward to hae a share in forcibly dismounting the wee bagman; a measure which was now evidently contemplated, if not determined on, by the crowd.
"Yes, yes!" shouted a third, "he has the mark o' the beast on him. Doun wi' him! doun wi' him! He can't deny the blue bonnet. Doun wi' it, and the head that's in it!" Seein all eyes at this moment directed to that part o' his person where a hat should have been, the wee bagman instinctively clapped his hand on his head. It felt strange! There was no superstructure—all was bare and flat. He pulled aff the mysterious coverin, and beheld with horror and amazement a large, broad, Scottish blue bonnet, the size o' a cart wheel, with a red knob, like an overgrown cherry, in the centre o't.
"Ay, where got ye that? where got ye that?" exclaimed some one frae the crowd. But, though the question was put, no answer was permitted to the questioned. In the next instant he was on his back on the street, kickin and strugglin amongst the feet o' his assailants, who applied the latter to all parts o' his person wi' a rapidity and vigour o' execution that threatened, and certainly would hae extinguished, the wee life o' him, if he hadna been rescued a trifle on this side o't by a guard o' sodgers, whom the alarm had brought to the spot.
Battered, bruised, speechless, and his face streamin wi' blood, the unfortunate bit bagman was now conveyed to the guard-house, and from thence, after he had somewhat recovered, to prison, under the same suspicion which had procured him such rough treatment from the mob. So that, to appearance, as they werena very nice in thae times, he was saved frae a violent death only to be subjected to anither; frae bein kicked into the ither warld to be hanged; and o' this opinion the wee bagman was himsel for some time, for the authorities o' Carlisle war at that period excessively loyal, and wadna cared muckle to hae hanged him on chance. As it was, however, he was kept in jail for a week, when his innocence havin been so clearly established that the most loyal o' his judges couldna deny it, he was set at liberty—though wi' a grudge, for they wad still fain hae hanged him—and a caution never to wear a blue bonnet in Carlisle again.
"The wee bagman," added the landlord, "has never come this way since, and I fancy now never will. Come, freends," continued he, "shute in your glasses—the drink's gettin cauld; and," he said, edging the mouth of the bowl slopingly towards him, so as to afford him a view of its contents, "there's a gey drap in't yet." Then, with that forethought which was a very remarkable and praiseworthy trait in his character—"Betty," he cried out to a servant girl, "keep the kettle boilin."
His call for the glasses of his friends being promptly obeyed, they were as promptly re-filled, and it is but doing justice to the honest men assembled on this occasion to state, were as speedily emptied again. This done—
"Mr Gas," said Walter Gibson, one of the most extensive traders and most respectable men in the company—"Mr Gas," he said—for they all addressed him as their chairman—"these are a' queer aneugh stories in their way that hae been tell't the nicht; but I'm no sure if there's ony o' them better than the story o' Sandy M'Gill and his mither."