A born marauder, he devoted his life to his trade; and, despite his
travels in France and Spain, he enjoyed few intervals of merriment.
Even the humour, which proved his redemption, was as dour and grim as
Scotland can furnish at her grimmes: and dourest. Here is a specimen
will serve as well as another: three of Gilderoy's gang had been
hanged according to the sentence of a certain Lord of Session, and
the Chieftain, for his own vengeance and the intimidation of justice,
resolved upon an exemplary punishment. He waylaid the Lord of Session,
emptied his pockets, killed his horses, broke his coach in pieces,
and having bound his lackeys, drowned them in a pond. This was but the
prelude of revenge, for presently (and here is the touch of humour) he
made the Lord of Session ride at dead of night to the gallows, whereon
the three malefactors were hanging. One arm of the crossbeams was still
untenanted. 'By my soul, mon,' cried Gilderoy to the Lord of Session,
'as this gibbet is built to break people's craigs, and is not uniform
without another, I must e'en hang you upon the vacant beam.' And
straightway the Lord of Session swung in the moonlight, and Gilderoy had
cracked his black and solemn joke.
This sense of fun is the single trait which relieves the colossal
turpitude of Gilderoy. And, though even his turpitude was melodramatic
in its lack of balance, it is a unity of character which is the
foundation of his greatness. He was no fumbler, led away from his
purpose by the first diversion; his ambition was clear before him, and
he never fell below it.
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