took stock of my equipment as if I were casting up an account. Many a
time in those days I studied my appearance in the glass like a foolish
maid. I was not well featured, having a freckled, square face, a
biggish head, a blunt nose, grey, colourless eyes, and a sandy thatch
of hair, I had great square shoulders, but my arms were too short for
my stature, and--from an accident in my nursing days--of indifferent
strength. All this stood on the debit side of my account. On the credit
side I set down that I had unshaken good health and an uncommon power
of endurance, especially in the legs. There was no runner in the Upper
Ward of Lanark who was my match, and I had travelled the hills so
constantly in all weathers that I had acquired a gipsy lore in the
matter of beasts and birds and wild things, I had long, clear, unerring
eyesight, which had often stood me in good stead in the time of my
father's troubles. Of moral qualities, Heaven forgive me, I fear I
thought less; but I believed, though I had been little proved, that I
was as courageous as the common run of men.
All this looks babyish in the writing, but there was a method in this
self-examination. I believed that I was fated to engage in strange
ventures, and I wanted to equip myself for the future. The pressing
business was that of self-defence, and I turned first to a gentleman's
proper weapon, the sword. Here, alas! I was doomed to a bitter
disappointment. My father had given me a lesson now and then, but never
enough to test me, and when I came into the hands of a Glasgow master
my unfitness was soon manifest. Neither with broadsword nor small sword
could I acquire any skill. My short arm lacked reach and vigour, and
there seemed to be some stiffness in wrist and elbow and shoulder which
compelled me to yield to smaller men. Here was a pretty business, for
though gentleman born I was as loutish with a gentleman's weapon as any
country hind.
This discovery gave me some melancholy weeks, but I plucked up heart
and set to reasoning. If my hand were to guard my head it must find
some other way of it. My thoughts turned to powder and shot, to the
musket and the pistol. Here was a weapon which needed only a stout
nerve, a good eye, and a steady hand; one of these I possessed to the
full, and the others were not beyond my attainment. There lived an
armourer in the Gallowgate, one Weir, with whom I began to spend my
leisure. There was an alley by the Molendinar Burn, close to the
archery butts, where he would let me practise at a mark with guns from
his store. Soon to my delight I found that here was a weapon with which
I need fear few rivals. I had a natural genius for the thing, as some
men have for sword-play, and Weir was a zealous teacher, for he loved
his flint-locks.
"See, Andrew," he would cry, "this is the true leveller of mankind. It
will make the man his master's equal, for though your gentleman may
cock on a horse and wave his Andrew Ferrara, this will bring him off
it. Brains, my lad, will tell in coming days, for it takes a head to
shoot well, though any flesher may swing a sword."
The better marksman I grew the less I liked the common make of guns,
and I cast about to work an improvement. I was especially fond of the
short gun or pistol, not the bell-mouthed thing which shot a handful
of slugs, and was as little precise in its aim as a hailstorm, but the
light foreign pistol which, shot as true as a musket. Weir had learned
his trade in Italy, and was a neat craftsman, so I employed him to make
me a pistol after my own pattern. The butt was of light, tough wood,
and brass-bound, for I did not care to waste money on ornament. The