[8]. See ante, “Benjie’s Christening,” page [214].
I’ll never forget it. I was standing by when three young lads took shools, and, lifting up the truff, proceeded to howk down to the coffin, wherein they had laid the gray hairs of their mother. They looked wild and bewildered like, and the glance of their een was like that of folk out of a mad-house; and none dared in the world to have spoken to them. They didna even speak to ane anither; but wrought on wi’ a great hurry till the spades struck on the coffin-lid—which was broken. The dead-claithes were there huddled a’thegither in a nook, but the dead was gane. I took haud o’ Willie Walker’s arm, and looked down. There was a cauld sweat all ower me;—losh me! but I was terribly frighted and eerie. Three mair graves were opened, and a’ just alike, save and except that of a wee unkirstened wean, which was aff bodily, coffin and a’.
There was a burst of righteous indignation throughout the parish; nor without reason. Tell me that doctors and graduates maun hae the dead; but tell it not to Mansie Wauch, that our hearts maun be trampled in the mire of scorn, and our best feelings laughed at, in order that a bruise may be properly plaistered up, or a sair head cured. Verily, the remedy is waur than the disease.
But what remead? It was to watch in the session-house, with loaded guns, night about, three at a time. I never likit to gang into the kirkyard after darkening, let-a-be to sit there through a lang winter night, windy and rainy, it may be, wi’ nane but the dead around us. Save us! it was an unco thought, and garred a’ my flesh creep; but the cause was gude,—my spirit was roused, and I was determined no to be dauntoned.
I counted and counted, but the dread day at length came, and I was summonsed. All the leivelang afternoon, when ca’ing the needle upon the brod, I tried to whistle Jenny Nettles, Niel Gow, and ither funny tunes, and whiles crooned to mysel between hands; but my consternation was visible, and a’ wadna do.
It was in November, and the cauld glimmering sun sank behind the Pentlands. The trees had been shorn of their frail leaves; and the misty night was closing fast in upon the dull and short day; but the candles glittered at the shop windows, and leery-light-the-lamps was brushing about wi’ his ladder in his oxter, and bleezing flamboy sparking out behind him. I felt a kind of qualm of faintness and down-sinking about my heart and stomach, to the dispelling of which I took a thimbleful of spirits, and, tying my red comforter about my neck, I marched briskly to the session-house. A neighbour (Andrew Goldie, the pensioner) lent me his piece, and loaded it to me. He took tent that it was only half-cock, and I wrapped a napkin round the dog-head, for it was raining. No being acquaint wi’ guns, I keepit the muzzle aye awa frae me; as it is every man’s duty no to throw his precious life into jeopardy.
A furm was set before the session-house fire, which bleezed brightly, nor had I ony thought that such an unearthly place could have been made to look half so comfortable, either by coal or candle; so my speerits rose up as if a weight had been ta’en aff them, and I wondered in my bravery, that a man like me could be afeard of onything. Nobody was there but a touzy, ragged, halflins callant of thirteen (for I speired his age), wi’ a desperate dirty face, and lang carroty hair, tearing a speldrin wi’ his teeth, which lookit lang and sharp eneugh, and throwing the skin and lugs intil the fire.
We sat for amaist an hour thegither, cracking the best way we could in sic a place; nor was onybody mair likely to cast up. The night was now pit-mirk; the wind soughed amid the headstanes and railings of the gentry (for we maun a’ dee); and the black corbies in the steeple-holes cackled and crawed in a fearsome manner. A’ at ance we heard a lonesome sound; and my heart began to play pit-pat—my skin grew a’ rough, like a poukit chicken—and I felt as if I didna ken what was the matter with me. It was only a false alarm, however, being the warning of the clock; and in a minute or twa thereafter the bell struck ten. Oh, but it was a lonesome and dreary sound! Every chap gaed through my breast like the dunt of a forehammer.
Then up and spak the red headed laddie: “It’s no fair; anither should hae come by this time. I wad rin awa hame, only I’m frightened to gang out my lane. Do ye think the doup o’ that candle wad carry in my cap?”
“Na, na, lad; we maun bide here, as we are here now. Leave me alane! Lord save us! and the yett lockit, and the bethrel sleepin’ wi’ the key in his breek-pouches! We canna win out now, though we would,” answered I, trying to look brave, though half frightened out of my seven senses. “Sit down, sit down; I’ve baith whisky and porter wi’ me. Hae, man, there’s a cauker to keep your heart warm; and set down that bottle,” quoth I, wiping the sawdust aff it with my hand, “to get a toast; I’se warrant it for Deacon Jaffrey’s best brown stout.”