NARRATIVE OF ALAN FAIRFORD
The reader ought, by this time, to have formed some idea of the character of Alan Fairford. He had a warmth of heart which the study of the law and of the world could not chill, and talents which they had rendered unusually acute. Deprived of the personal patronage enjoyed by most of his contemporaries, who assumed the gown under the protection of their aristocratic alliances and descents, he early saw that he should have that to achieve for himself which fell to them as a right of birth. He laboured hard in silence and solitude, and his labours were crowned with success. But Alan doted on his friend Darsie, even more than he loved his profession, and, as we have seen, threw everything aside when he thought Latimer in danger; forgetting fame and fortune, and hazarding even the serious displeasure of his father, to rescue him whom he loved with an elder brother’s affection. Darsie, though his parts were more quick and brilliant than those of his friend, seemed always to the latter a being under his peculiar charge, whom he was called upon to cherish and protect in cases where the youth’s own experience was unequal to the exigency; and now, when, the fate of Latimer seeming worse than doubtful, Alan’s whole prudence and energy were to be exerted in his behalf, an adventure which might have seemed perilous to most youths of his age had no terrors for him. He was well acquainted with the laws of his country, and knew how to appeal to them; and, besides his professional confidence, his natural disposition was steady, sedate, persevering, and undaunted. With these requisites he undertook a quest which, at that time, was not unattended with actual danger, and had much in it to appal a more timid disposition.
Fairford’s first inquiry concerning his friend was of the chief magistrate of Dumfries, Provost Crosbie, who had sent the information of Darsie’s disappearance. On his first application, he thought he discerned in the honest dignitary a desire to get rid of the subject. The provost spoke of the riot at the fishing station as an ‘outbreak among those lawless loons the fishermen, which concerned the sheriff,’ he said, ‘more than us poor town council bodies, that have enough to do to keep peace within burgh, amongst such a set of commoners as the town are plagued with.’
‘But this is not all, Provost Crosbie,’ said Mr. Alan Fairford; ‘A young gentleman of rank and fortune has disappeared amongst their hands—you know him. My father gave him a letter to you—Mr. Darsie Latimer.’
‘Lack-a-day, yes! lack-a-day, yes!’ said the provost; ‘Mr. Darsie Latimer—he dined at my house—I hope he is well?’
‘I hope so too,’ said Alan, rather indignantly; ‘but I desire more certainty on that point. You yourself wrote my father that he had disappeared.’
‘Troth, yes, and that is true,’ said the provost. ‘But did he not go back to his friends in Scotland? it was not natural to think he would stay here.’
‘Not unless he is under restraint,’ said Fairford, surprised at the coolness with which the provost seemed to take up the matter.
‘Rely on it, sir,’ said Mr. Crosbie, ‘that if he has not returned to his friends in Scotland, he must have gone to his friends in England.’
‘I will rely on no such thing,’ said Alan; ‘if there is law or justice in Scotland, I will have the thing cleared to the very bottom.’