gold chain, and well-black’d shoes,
Bears under his flat cap ofttimes a brain
Wiser than burns beneath the cap and feather,
Or seethes within the statesman’s velvet nightcap.
The young Scottish nobleman received the citizen with distant politeness, expressing that sort of reserve by which those of the higher ranks are sometimes willing to make a plebeian sensible that he is an intruder. But Master George seemed neither displeased nor disconcerted. He assumed the chair, which, in deference to his respectable appearance, Lord Nigel offered to him, and said, after a moment’s pause, during which he had looked attentively at the young man, with respect not unmingled with emotion – “You will forgive me for this rudeness, my lord; but I was endeavouring to trace in your youthful countenance the features of my good old lord, your excellent father.”
There was a moment’s pause ere young Glenvarloch replied, still with a reserved manner, – “I have been reckoned like my father, sir; and am happy to see any one that respects his memory. But the business which calls me to this city is of a hasty as well as a private nature, and – ”
“I understand the hint, my lord,” said Master George, “and would not be guilty of long detaining you from business, or more agreeable conversation. My errand is almost done when I have said that my name is George Heriot, warmly befriended, and introduced into the employment of the Royal Family of Scotland, more than twenty years since, by your excellent father; and that, learning from a follower of yours that your lordship was in this city in prosecution of some business of importance, it is my duty, – it is my pleasure, – to wait on the son of my respected patron; and, as I am somewhat known both at the Court, and in the city, to offer him such aid in the furthering of his affairs as my credit and experience may be able to afford.”
“I have no doubt of either, Master Heriot,” said Lord Nigel, “and I thank you heartily for the good-will with which you have placed them at a stranger’s disposal; but my business at Court is done and ended, and I intend to leave London and, indeed, the island, for foreign travel and military service. I may add, that the suddenness of my departure occasions my having little time at my disposal.”
Master Heriot did not take the hint, but sat fast, with an embarrassed countenance however, like one who had something to say that he knew not exactly how to make effectual. At length he said, with a dubious smile, “You are fortunate, my lord, in having so soon dispatched your business at Court. Your talking landlady informs me you have been but a fortnight in this city. It is usually months and years ere the Court and a suitor shake hands and part.”
“My business,” said Lord Nigel, with a brevity which was intended to stop further discussion, “was summarily dispatched.”
Still Master Heriot remained seated, and there was a cordial good-humour added to the reverence of his appearance, which rendered it impossible for Lord Nigel to be more explicit in requesting his absence.
“Your lordship has not yet had time,” said the citizen, still attempting to sustain the conversation, “to visit the places of amusement, – the playhouses, and other places to which youth resort. But I see in your lordship’s hand one of the new-invented plots of the piece, [Footnote: Meaning, probably, playbills.] which they hand about of late – May I ask what play?”
“Oh! a well-known piece,” said Lord Nigel, impatiently throwing down the Proclamation, which he had hitherto been twisting to and fro in his hand, – “an excellent and well-approved piece —A New Way to Pay Old Debts.”
Master Heriot stooped down, saying, “Ah! my old acquaintance, Philip Massinger;” but, having opened the paper and seen the purport, he looked at Lord Nigel with surprise, saying, “I trust your lordship does not think this prohibition can extend either to your person or your claims?”
“I should scarce have thought so myself,” said the young nobleman; “but so it proves. His Majesty, to close this discourse at once, has been pleased to send me this Proclamation, in answer to a respectful Supplication for the repayment of large loans advanced by my father for the service of the State, in the king’s utmost emergencies.”
“It is impossible!” said the citizen – “it is absolutely impossible! – If the king could forget what was due to your father’s memory, still he would not have wished – would not, I may say, have dared – to be so flagrantly unjust to the memory of such a man as your father, who, dead in the body, will long live in the memory of the Scottish people.”
“I should have been of your opinion,” answered Lord Nigel, in the same tone as before; “but there is no fighting with facts.”
“What was the tenor of this Supplication?” said Heriot; “or by whom was it presented? Something strange there must have been in the contents, or else – ”
“You may see my original draught,” said the young lord, taking it out of a small travelling strong-box; “the technical part is by my lawyer in Scotland, a skilful and sensible man; the rest is my own, drawn, I hope, with due deference and modesty.”
Master Heriot hastly cast his eye over the draught. “Nothing,” he said, “can be more well-tempered and respectful. Is it possible the king can have treated this petition with contempt?”
“He threw it down on the pavement,” said the Lord of Glenvarloch, “and sent me for answer that Proclamation, in which he classes me with the paupers and mendicants from Scotland, who disgrace his Court in the eyes of the proud English – that is all. Had not my father stood by him with heart, sword, and fortune, he might never have seen the Court of England himself.”
“But by whom was this Supplication presented, my lord?” said Heriot; “for the distaste taken at the messenger will sometimes extend itself to the message.”
“By my servant,” said the Lord Nigel; “by the man you saw, and, I think, were kind to.”
“By your servant, my lord?” said the citizen; “he seems a shrewd fellow, and doubtless a faithful; but surely – ”
“You would say,” said Lord Nigel, “he is no fit messenger to a king’s presence? – Surely he is not; but what could I do? Every attempt I had made to lay my case before the king had miscarried, and my petitions got no farther than the budgets of clerks and secretaries; this fellow pretended he had a friend in the household that would bring him to the king’s presence, – and so – ”
“I understand,” said Heriot; “but, my lord, why should you not, in right of your rank and birth, have appeared at Court, and required an audience, which could not have been denied to you?”
The young lord blushed a little, and looked at his dress, which was very plain; and, though in perfect good order, had the appearance of having seen service.
“I know not why I should be ashamed of speaking the truth,” he said, after a momentary hesitation, – “I had no dress suitable for appearing at Court. I am determined to incur no expenses which I cannot discharge; and I think you, sir, would not advise me to stand at the palace-door, in person, and deliver my petition, along with those who are in very deed pleading their necessity, and begging an alms.”
“That had been, indeed, unseemly,” said the citizen; “but yet, my lord, my mind runs strangely that there must be some mistake. – Can I speak with your domestic?”
“I see little good it can do,” answered the young lord, “but the interest you take in my misfortunes seems sincere, and therefore – ” He stamped on the floor, and in a few seconds afterwards Moniplies appeared, wiping from his beard and mustaches the crumbs of bread, and the froth of the ale-pot, which plainly showed how he had been employed. – “Will your lordship grant permission,” said Heriot, “that I ask your groom a few questions?”
“His lordship’s page, Master George,” answered Moniplies, with a nod of acknowledgment, “if you are minded to speak according to the letter.”
“Hold your saucy tongue,” said his master, “and reply distinctly to the questions