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background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - --> -</style> - </head> - <body> - <h2> - THE ANTIQUARY - </h2> - <h2> - BY SIR WALTER SCOTT - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Antiquary, Complete, by Sir Walter Scott - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net - - -Title: The Antiquary, Complete - -Author: Sir Walter Scott - -Release Date: August 16, 2004 [EBook #7005] -Last Updated: October 17, 2012 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANTIQUARY*** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - <div class="mynote"> - <i><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/7005/old/orig7005-h/main.htm"> - LINK TO THE ORIGINAL HTML FILE: This Ebook Has Been Reformatted For Better - Appearance In Mobile Viewers Such As Kindles And Others. The Original - Format, Which The Editor Believes Has A More Attractive Appearance For - Laptops And Other Computers, May Be Viewed By Clicking On This Box.</a></i> - </div> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> <a name="image-0001" id="image-0001"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/bookcover.jpg" alt="Bookcover " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - <a name="image-0002" id="image-0002"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/spines.jpg" alt="Spines " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - THE ANTIQUARY - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h2> - BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /> <a name="image-0003" id="image-0003"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/titlepage1.jpg" alt="Titlepage " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - <br /><br /> <a name="image-0004" id="image-0004"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="Frontispiece " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h2> - CONTENTS - </h2> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> VOLUME ONE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER FIRST. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER SECOND. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER THIRD. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER FOURTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER FIFTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER SIXTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER SEVENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER EIGHTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER NINTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER TENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER ELEVENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER TWELFTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER NINETEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER TWENTIETH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. </a> - </p> - <h3> - VOLUME II. - </h3> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0001"> CHAPTER FIRST. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0002"> CHAPTER SECOND. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0003"> CHAPTER THIRD. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0004"> CHAPTER FOURTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0005"> CHAPTER FIFTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0006"> CHAPTER SIXTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0007"> CHAPTER SEVENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0008"> CHAPTER EIGHTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0009"> CHAPTER NINTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0010"> CHAPTER TENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0011"> CHAPTER ELEVENTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0012"> CHAPTER TWELFTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0013"> CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0014"> CHAPTER FOURTEENTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0015"> CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0016"> CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0017"> CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0018"> CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0019"> CHAPTER NINETEENTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0020"> CHAPTER TWENTIETH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0021"> CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0022"> CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0023"> CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Alink2HCH0024"> CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_NOTE"> NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h2> - ILLUSTRATIONS - </h2> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0001"> Bookcover </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0002"> Spines </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0003"> Titlepage </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0004"> Frontispiece </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0005"> The Antiquary and Lovel—the Sanctum </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0006"> Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0007"> The Rescue of Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0008"> Eddie Ochiltree Visits Miss Wardour </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0009"> Mrs. Heukbane and Mrs. Shortcake </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0010"> St. Ruth (arbroath Abbey) </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0011"> The Ruins of St. Ruth </a> - </p> - <h3> - VOLUME II. - </h3> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0001"> Bookcover </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0002"> Spines </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0003"> Titlepage </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#image-0004"> Frontispiece-2 </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Aimage-0005"> The Funeral of the Countess </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Aimage-0006"> Lord Glenallen and Elspeth </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Aimage-0007"> The Antiquary Visits Edie in Prison </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Aimage-0008"> My Good Friends, 'favete Linguis' </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#Aimage-0009"> The Antiquary Arming </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h2> - ILLUSTRATORS - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <table summary=""> - <tr> - <td> - <h2> - Subject or Title - - </h2> - </td> - <td> - <h2> - Original Drawing - </h2> - </td> - <td> - <h2> - Etching - </h2> - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - The Antiquary and Lovel—Kinpurnes - </td> - <td> - J. B. MacDonald - </td> - <td> - T. J. Dagleish - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - The Antiquary and Lovel—The Sanctum - </td> - <td> - Robert Herdman - </td> - <td> - B. Dammon - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour - </td> - <td> - J. MacWhirter - </td> - <td> - Alex Ansted - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - Rescue of Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour - </td> - <td> - Sam Bough - </td> - <td> - C. de Billy - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - Edie Ochiltree visits Miss Wardour - </td> - <td> - W. McTaggart - </td> - <td> - C. O. Murray - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - Mrs. Heukbane and Mrs. Shortcake - </td> - <td> - Original Etching by: - </td> - <td> - George Cruikshank - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - St. Ruth (Arbroath Abbey) - </td> - <td> - Photo Etching by: - </td> - <td> - John Andrew & Son Co. - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - Ruins of St. Ruth - </td> - <td> - Original Etching by: - </td> - <td> - J. Moyr Smith - </td> - </tr> - </table> - <p> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - VOLUME ONE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I knew Anselmo. He was shrewd and prudent, - Wisdom and cunning had their shares of him; - But he was shrewish as a wayward child, - And pleased again by toys which childhood please; - As—-book of fables, graced with print of wood, - Or else the jingling of a rusty medal, - Or the rare melody of some old ditty, - That first was sung to please King Pepin's cradle -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - INTRODUCTION - </h2> - <p> - The present work completes a series of fictitious narratives, intended to - illustrate the manners of Scotland at three different periods. <i>Waverley</i> - embraced the age of our fathers, <i>Guy Mannering</i> that of our own - youth, and the <i>Antiquary</i> refers to the last ten years of the - eighteenth century. I have, in the two last narratives especially, sought - my principal personages in the class of society who are the last to feel - the influence of that general polish which assimilates to each other the - manners of different nations. Among the same class I have placed some of - the scenes in which I have endeavoured to illustrate the operation of the - higher and more violent passions; both because the lower orders are less - restrained by the habit of suppressing their feelings, and because I - agree, with my friend Wordsworth, that they seldom fail to express them in - the strongest and most powerful language. This is, I think, peculiarly the - case with the peasantry of my own country, a class with whom I have long - been familiar. The antique force and simplicity of their language, often - tinctured with the Oriental eloquence of Scripture, in the mouths of those - of an elevated understanding, give pathos to their grief, and dignity to - their resentment. - </p> - <p> - I have been more solicitous to describe manners minutely than to arrange - in any case an artificial and combined narrative, and have but to regret - that I felt myself unable to unite these two requisites of a good Novel. - </p> - <p> - The knavery of the adept in the following sheets may appear forced and - improbable; but we have had very late instances of the force of - superstitious credulity to a much greater extent, and the reader may be - assured, that this part of the narrative is founded on a fact of actual - occurrence. - </p> - <p> - I have now only to express my gratitude to the Public for the - distinguished reception which, they have given to works, that have little - more than some truth of colouring to recommend them, and to take my - respectful leave, as one who is not likely again to solicit their favour. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - To the above advertisement, which was prefixed to the first edition of the - Antiquary, it is necessary in the present edition to add a few words, - transferred from the Introduction to the Chronicles of the Canongate, - respecting the character of Jonathan Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "I may here state generally, that although I have deemed historical - personages free subjects of delineation, I have never on any occasion - violated the respect due to private life. It was indeed impossible that - traits proper to persons, both living and dead, with whom I have had - intercourse in society, should not have risen to my pen in such works as - Waverley, and those which, followed it. But I have always studied to - generalise the portraits, so that they should still seem, on the whole, - the productions of fancy, though possessing some resemblance to real - individuals. Yet I must own my attempts have not in this last particular - been uniformly successful. There are men whose characters are so - peculiarly marked, that the delineation of some leading and principal - feature, inevitably places the whole person before you in his - individuality. Thus the character of Jonathan Oldbuck in the Antiquary, - was partly founded on that of an old friend of my youth, to whom I am - indebted for introducing me to Shakspeare, and other invaluable favours; - but I thought I had so completely disguised the likeness, that it could - not be recognised by any one now alive. I was mistaken, however, and - indeed had endangered what I desired should be considered as a secret; for - I afterwards learned that a highly respectable gentleman, one of the few - surviving friends of my father, and an acute critic, had said, upon the - appearance of the work, that he was now convinced who was the author of - it, as he recognised, in the Antiquary, traces of the character of a very - intimate friend* of my father's family." - </p> - <p> - * [The late George Constable of Wallace Craigie, near Dundee.] - </p> - <p> - I have only farther to request the reader not to suppose that my late - respected friend resembled Mr. Oldbuck, either in his pedigree, or the - history imputed to the ideal personage. There is not a single incident in - the Novel which is borrowed from his real circumstances, excepting the - fact that he resided in an old house near a flourishing seaport, and that - the author chanced to witness a scene betwixt him and the female - proprietor of a stage-coach, very similar to that which commences the - history of the Antiquary. An excellent temper, with a slight degree of - subacid humour; learning, wit, and drollery, the more poignant that they - were a little marked by the peculiarities of an old bachelor; a soundness - of thought, rendered more forcible by an occasional quaintness of - expression, were, the author conceives, the only qualities in which the - creature of his imagination resembled his benevolent and excellent old - friend. - </p> - <p> - The prominent part performed by the Beggar in the following narrative, - induces the author to prefix a few remarks of that character, as it - formerly existed in Scotland, though it is now scarcely to be traced. - </p> - <p> - Many of the old Scottish mendicants were by no means to be confounded with - the utterly degraded class of beings who now practise that wandering - trade. Such of them as were in the habit of travelling through a - particular district, were usually well received both in the farmer's ha', - and in the kitchens of the country gentlemen. Martin, author of the <i>Reliquiae - Divi Sancti Andreae,</i> written in 1683, gives the following account of - one class of this order of men in the seventeenth century, in terms which - would induce an antiquary like Mr. Oldbuck to regret its extinction. He - conceives them to be descended from the ancient bards, and proceeds:—-"They - are called by others, and by themselves, Jockies, who go about begging; - and use still to recite the Sloggorne (gathering-words or war-cries) of - most of the true ancient surnames of Scotland, from old experience and - observation. Some of them I have discoursed, and found to have reason and - discretion. One of them told me there were not now above twelve of them in - the whole isle; but he remembered when they abounded, so as at one time he - was one of five that usually met at St. Andrews." - </p> - <p> - The race of Jockies (of the above description) has, I suppose, been long - extinct in Scotland; but the old remembered beggar, even in my own time, - like the Baccoch, or travelling cripple of Ireland, was expected to merit - his quarters by something beyond an exposition of his distresses. He was - often a talkative, facetious fellow, prompt at repartee, and not withheld - from exercising his powers that way by any respect of persons, his patched - cloak giving him the privilege of the ancient jester. To be a <i>gude - crack,</i> that is, to possess talents for conversation, was essential to - the trade of a "puir body" of the more esteemed class; and Burns, who - delighted in the amusement their discourse afforded, seems to have looked - forward with gloomy firmness to the possibility of himself becoming one - day or other a member of their itinerant society. In his poetical works, - it is alluded to so often, as perhaps to indicate that he considered the - consummation as not utterly impossible. Thus in the fine dedication of his - works to Gavin Hamilton, he says,— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - And when I downa yoke a naig, - Then, Lord be thankit, I can beg. -</pre> - <p> - Again, in his Epistle to Davie, a brother Poet, he states, that in their - closing career— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The last o't, the warst o't, - Is only just to beg. -</pre> - <p> - And after having remarked, that - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - To lie in kilns and barns at e'en, - When banes are crazed and blude is thin, -</pre> - <p> - Is doubtless great distress; the bard reckons up, with true poetical - spirit, the free enjoyment of the beauties of nature, which might - counterbalance the hardship and uncertainty of the life, even of a - mendicant. In one of his prose letters, to which I have lost the - reference, he details this idea yet more seriously, and dwells upon it, as - not ill adapted to his habits and powers. - </p> - <p> - As the life of a Scottish mendicant of the eighteenth century seems to - have been contemplated without much horror by Robert Burns, the author can - hardly have erred in giving to Edie Ochiltree something of poetical - character and personal dignity, above the more abject of his miserable - calling. The class had, intact, some privileges. A lodging, such as it - was, was readily granted to them in some of the out-houses, and the usual - <i>awmous</i> (alms) of a handful of meal (called a <i>gowpen</i>) was - scarce denied by the poorest cottager. The mendicant disposed these, - according to their different quality, in various bags around his person, - and thus carried about with him the principal part of his sustenance, - which he literally received for the asking. At the houses of the gentry, - his cheer was mended by scraps of broken meat, and perhaps a Scottish - "twalpenny," or English penny, which was expended in snuff or whiskey. In - fact, these indolent peripatetics suffered much less real hardship and - want of food, than the poor peasants from whom they received alms. - </p> - <p> - If, in addition to his personal qualifications, the mendicant chanced to - be a King's Bedesman, or Blue-Gown, he belonged, in virtue thereof, to the - aristocracy of his order, and was esteemed a parson of great importance. - </p> - <p> - These Bedesmen are an order of paupers to whom the Kings of Scotland were - in the custom of distributing a certain alms, in conformity with the - ordinances of the Catholic Church, and who where expected in return to - pray for the royal welfare and that of the state. This order is still kept - up. Their number is equal to the number of years which his Majesty has - lived; and one Blue-Gown additional is put on the roll for every returning - royal birth-day. On the same auspicious era, each Bedesman receives a new - cloak, or gown of coarse cloth, the colour light blue, with a pewter - badge, which confers on them the general privilege of asking alms through - all Scotland,—all laws against sorning, masterful beggary, and every - other species of mendicity, being suspended in favour of this privileged - class. With his cloak, each receives a leathern purse, containing as many - shillings Scots (videlicet, pennies sterling) as the sovereign is years - old; the zeal of their intercession for the king's long life receiving, it - is to be supposed, a great stimulus from their own present and increasing - interest in the object of their prayers. On the same occasion one of the - Royal Chaplains preaches a sermon to the Bedesmen, who (as one of the - reverend gentlemen expressed himself) are the most impatient and - inattentive audience in the world. Something of this may arise from a - feeling on the part of the Bedesmen, that they are paid for their own - devotions, not for listening to those of others. Or, more probably, it - arises from impatience, natural, though indecorous in men bearing so - venerable a character, to arrive at the conclusion of the ceremonial of - the royal birth-day, which, so far as they are concerned, ends in a lusty - breakfast of bread and ale; the whole moral and religious exhibition - terminating in the advice of Johnson's "Hermit hoar" to his proselyte, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come, my lad, and drink some beer. -</pre> - <p> - Of the charity bestowed on these aged Bedesmen in money and clothing, - there are many records in the Treasurer's accompts. The following extract, - kindly supplied by Mr. Macdonald of the Register House, may interest those - whose taste is akin to that of Jonathan Oldbuck of Monkbarns. - </p> - <h4> - BLEW GOWNIS. - </h4> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In the Account of Sir Robert Melvill of Murdocarney, - Treasurer-Depute of King James VI., there are the following Payments:— - - "Junij 1590. - - "Item, to Mr. Peter Young, Elimosinar, twentie four gownis of blew - clayth, to be gevin to xxiiij auld men, according to the yeiris of his - hienes age, extending to viii xx viii elnis clayth; price of the elne - xxiiij <i>s. </i> Inde, ij <i>c</i>j <i>li. </i>xij <i>s. </i> - - "Item, for sextene elnis bukrum to the saidis gownis, price of the elne x - <i>s. </i> Inde, viij <i>li. </i> - - "Item, twentie four pursis, and in ilk purse twentie four schelling - Inde, xxciij <i>li. </i> xvj <i>s. </i> - "Item, the price of ilk purse iiij <i>d. </i> Inde, viij <i>s. </i> - - "Item, for making of the saidis gownis viij <i>li.</i>" - - In the Account of John, Earl of Mar, Great Treasurer of Scotland, and of - Sir Gideon Murray of Enbank, Treasurer-Depute, the Blue-Gowns also appear - thus:— - - - "Junij 1617. - - "Item, to James Murray, merchant, for fyftene scoir sex elnis and aine - half elne of blew claith to be gownis to fyftie ane aigeit men, according - to the yeiris of his Majesteis age, at xl <i>s. </i> the elne - Inde, vj <i>c</i> xiij <i>li. </i> - - "Item, to workmen for careing the blewis to James Aikman, tailyeour, his - hous xiij <i>s. </i> iiij <i>d. </i> - - "Item, for sex elnis and ane half of harden to the saidis gownis, at vj - <i>s. </i> viij <i>d. </i> the elne Inde, xliij <i>s. </i>iiij <i>d. </i> - - "Item, to the said workmen for careing of the gownis fra the said James - Aikman's hous to the palace of Halyrudehous xviij <i>s. </i> - - "Item, for making the saidis fyftie ane gownis, at xij <i>s. </i> the peice - Inde, xxx <i>li. </i>xij <i>s. </i> - - "Item, for fyftie ane pursis to the said puire menlj <i>s. </i> - - "Item, to Sir Peter Young, li <i>s. </i> to be put in everie ane of the saidis - ljpursis to the said poore men j <i>c</i>xxxl jj <i>s. </i> - - "Item, to the said Sir Peter, to buy breid and drink to the said puir men - vj <i>li. </i>xiij <i>s. </i>iiij <i>d. </i> - - "Item, to the said Sir Peter, to be delt amang uther puire folk j <i>c</i>li. - - "Item, upoun the last day of Junii to Doctor Young, Deane of Winchester, - Elimozinar Deput to his Majestic, twentie fyve pund sterling, to be gevin - to the puir be the way in his Majesteis progress Inde, iij <i>c li.</i>" -</pre> - <p> - I have only to add, that although the institution of King's Bedesmen still - subsists, they are now seldom to be seen on the streets of Edinburgh, of - which their peculiar dress made them rather a characteristic feature. - </p> - <p> - Having thus given an account of the genus and species to which Edie - Ochiltree appertains, the author may add, that the individual he had in - his eye was Andrew Gemmells, an old mendicant of the character described, - who was many years since well known, and must still be remembered, in the - vales of Gala, Tweed, Ettrick, Yarrow, and the adjoining country. - </p> - <p> - The author has in his youth repeatedly seen and conversed with Andrew, but - cannot recollect whether he held the rank of Blue-Gown. He was a - remarkably fine old figure, very tall, and maintaining a soldierlike or - military manner and address. His features were intelligent, with a - powerful expression of sarcasm. His motions were always so graceful, that - he might almost have been suspected of having studied them; for he might, - on any occasion, have, served as a model for an artist, so remarkably - striking were his ordinary attitudes. Andrew Gemmells had little of the - cant of his calling; his wants were food and shelter, or a trifle of - money, which he always claimed, and seemed to receive as his due. He, sung - a good song, told a good story, and could crack a severe jest with all the - acumen of Shakespeare's jesters, though without using, like them, the - cloak of insanity. It was some fear of Andrew's satire, as much as a - feeling of kindness or charity, which secured him the general good - reception which he enjoyed everywhere. In fact, a jest of Andrew Gemmells, - especially at the expense of a person of consequence, flew round the - circle which he frequented, as surely as the bon-mot of a man of - established character for wit glides through the fashionable world, Many - of his good things are held in remembrance, but are generally too local - and personal to be introduced here. - </p> - <p> - Andrew had a character peculiar to himself among his tribe for aught I - ever heard. He was ready and willing to play at cards or dice with any one - who desired such amusement. This was more in the character of the Irish - itinerant gambler, called in that country a "carrow," than of the Scottish - beggar. But the late Reverend Doctor Robert Douglas, minister of - Galashiels, assured the author, that the last time he saw Andrew Gemmells, - he was engaged in a game at brag with a gentleman of fortune, distinction, - and birth. To preserve the due gradations of rank, the party was made at - an open window of the chateau, the laird sitting on his chair in the - inside, the beggar on a stool in the yard; and they played on the - window-sill. The stake was a considerable parcel of silver. The author - expressing some surprise, Dr. Douglas observed, that the laird was no - doubt a humourist or original; but that many decent persons in those times - would, like him, have thought there was nothing extraordinary in passing - an hour, either in card-playing or conversation, with Andrew Gemmells. - </p> - <p> - This singular mendicant had generally, or was supposed to have, much money - about his person, as would have been thought the value of his life among - modern foot-pads. On one occasion, a country gentleman, generally esteemed - a very narrow man, happening to meet Andrew, expressed great regret that - he had no silver in his pocket, or he would have given him sixpence.—"I - can give you change for a note, laird," replied Andrew. - </p> - <p> - Like most who have arisen to the head of their profession, the modern - degradation which mendicity has undergone was often the subject of - Andrew's lamentations. As a trade, he said, it was forty pounds a-year - worse since he had first practised it. On another occasion he observed, - begging was in modern times scarcely the profession of a gentleman; and - that, if he had twenty sons, he would not easily be induced to breed one - of them up in his own line. When or where this <i>laudator temporis acti</i> - closed his wanderings, the author never heard with certainty; but most - probably, as Burns says, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —he died a cadger-powny's death, - At some dike side. -</pre> - <p> - The author may add another picture of the same kind as Edie Ochiltree and - Andrew Gemmells; considering these illustrations as a sort of gallery, - open to the reception of anything which may elucidate former manners, or - amuse the reader. - </p> - <p> - The author's contemporaries at the university of Edinburgh will probably - remember the thin, wasted form of a venerable old Bedesman, who stood by - the Potterrow-Port, now demolished, and, without speaking a syllable, - gently inclined his head, and offered his hat, but with the least possible - degree of urgency, towards each individual who passed. This man gained, by - silence and the extenuated and wasted appearance of a palmer from a remote - country, the same tribute which was yielded to Andrew Gemmells' sarcastic - humour and stately deportment. He was understood to be able to maintain a - son a student in the theological classes of the University, at the gate of - which the father was a mendicant. The young man was modest and inclined to - learning, so that a student of the same age, and whose parents where - rather of the lower order, moved by seeing him excluded from the society - of other scholars when the secret of his birth was suspected, endeavoured - to console him by offering him some occasional civilities. The old - mendicant was grateful for this attention to his son, and one day, as the - friendly student passed, he stooped forward more than usual, as if to - intercept his passage. The scholar drew out a halfpenny, which he - concluded was the beggar's object, when he was surprised to receive his - thanks for the kindness he had shown to Jemmie, and at the same time a - cordial invitation to dine with them next Saturday, "on a shoulder of - mutton and potatoes," adding, "ye'll put on your clean sark, as I have - company." The student was strongly tempted to accept this hospitable - proposal, as many in his place would probably have done; but, as the - motive might have been capable of misrepresentation, he thought it most - prudent, considering the character and circumstances of the old man, to - decline the invitation. - </p> - <p> - Such are a few traits of Scottish mendicity, designed to throw light on a - Novel in which a character of that description plays a prominent part. We - conclude, that we have vindicated Edie Ochiltree's right to the importance - assigned him; and have shown, that we have known one beggar take a hand at - cards with a person of distinction, and another give dinner parties. - </p> - <p> - I know not if it be worth while to observe, that the Antiquary,* was not - so well received on its first appearance as either of its predecessors, - though in course of time it rose to equal, and, with some readers, - superior popularity. - </p> - <p> - * Note A. Mottoes. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION - </h2> - <h3> - TO - </h3> - <h3> - THE ANTIQUARY. - </h3> - <p> - "THE ANTIQUARY" was begun in 1815; the bargain for its publication by - Constable was made in the October of that year. On December 22 Scott wrote - to Morritt: "I shall set myself seriously to 'The Antiquary,' of which I - have only a very general sketch at present; but when once I get my pen to - the paper it will walk fast enough. I am sometimes tempted to leave it - alone, and try whether it will not write as well without the assistance of - my head as with it,—a hopeful prospect for the reader!'" It is - amazing enough that he even constructed "a general sketch," for to such - sketches he confesses that he never could keep constant. "I have generally - written to the middle of one of these novels without having the least idea - how it was to end,—in short, in the <i>hab nab at a venture style</i> - of composition" (Journal, Feb. 24, 1828). Yet it is almost impossible but - that the plot of "The Antiquary" should have been duly considered. Scott - must have known from the first who Lovel was to turn out to be, and must - have recognised in the hapless bride of Lord Glenallan the object of the - Antiquary's solitary and unfortunate passion. To introduce another - Wandering Heir immediately after the Harry Bertram of "Guy Mannering" was - rather audacious. But that old favourite, the Lost Heir, is nearly certain - to be popular. For the Antiquary's immortal sorrow Scott had a model in - his own experience. "What a romance to tell!—and told, I fear, it - will one day be. And then my three years of dreaming and my two years of - wakening will be chronicled doubtless. But the dead will feel no pain." - The dead, as Aristotle says, if they care for such things at all, care no - more than we do for what has passed in a dream. - </p> - <p> - The general sketch probably began to take full shape about the last day of - 1815. On December 29 Scott wrote to Ballantyne:— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - DEAR JAMES,— - I've done, thank'God, with the long yarns - Of the most prosy of Apostles—Paul, 1 - And now advance, sweet heathen of Monkbarns, - Step out, old quizz, as fast as I can scrawl. -</pre> - <p> - In "The Antiquary" Scott had a subject thoroughly to his mind. He had been - an antiquary from his childhood. His earliest pence had been devoted to - that collection of printed ballads which is still at Abbotsford. These he - mentions in the unfinished fragment of his "Reliquiae Trotcosienses," in - much the same words as in his manuscript note on one of the seven volumes. - </p> - <p> - "This little collection of Stall tracts and ballads was formed by me, when - a boy, from the baskets of the travelling pedlars. Until put into its - present decent binding it had such charms for the servants that it was - repeatedly, and with difficulty, recovered from their clutches. It - contains most of the pieces that were popular about thirty years since, - and, I dare say, many that could not now be procured for any price - (1810)." - </p> - <p> - Nor did he collect only— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "The rare melody of some old ditties - That first were sung to please King Pepin's cradle. -</pre> - <p> - "Walter had soon begun to gather out-of-the-way things of all sorts. He - had more books than shelves [sic]; a small painted cabinet with Scotch and - Roman coins in it, and so forth. A claymore and Lochaber axe, given him by - old Invernahyle, mounted guard on a little print of Prince Charlie; and - Broughton's Saucer was hooked up on the wall below it." He had entered - literature through the ruined gateway of archleology, in the "Border - Minstrelsy," and his last project was an edition of Perrault's "Contes de - Ma Mere l'Oie." As pleasant to him as the purchase of new lands like Turn - Again, bought dearly, as in Monkbarns's case, from "bonnet lauds," was a - fresh acquisition of an old book or of old armour. Yet, with all his - enthusiasm, he did not please the antiquaries of his own day. George - Chalmers, in Constable's "Life and Correspondence" (i. 431), sneers at his - want of learning. "His notes are loose and unlearned, as they generally - are." Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, his friend in life, disported himself in - jealous and ribald mockery of Scott's archaeological knowledge, when Scott - was dead. In a letter of the enigmatic Thomas Allen, or James Stuart Hay, - father of John Sobieski and Charles Edward Stuart, this mysterious person - avers that he never knew Scott's opinion to be held as of any value by - antiquaries (1829). They probably missed in him "a sort of pettifogging - intimacy with dates, names, and trifling matters of fact,—a tiresome - and frivolous accuracy of memory" which Sir Arthur Wardour reproves in - Monkbarns. Scott, in brief, was not as Dry-as-dust; all the dead bones - that he touches come to life. He was as great an archeologist as a poet - can be, and, with Virgil, was the greatest antiquary among poets. Like - Monkbarns, he was not incapable of being beguiled. As Oldbuck bought the - bodle from the pedlar at the price of a rare coin, so Scott took Surtees's - "Barthram's Dirge," and his Latin legend of the tourney with the spectre - knight, for genuine antiquities. No Edie Ochiltree ever revealed to him - the truth about these forgeries, and the spectre knight, with the ballad - of "Anthony Featherstonhaugh," hold their own in "Marmion," to assure the - world that this antiquary was gullible when the sleight was practised by a - friend. "Non est tanti," he would have said, had he learned the truth; for - he was ever conscious of the humorous side of the study of the mouldering - past. "I do not know anything which relieves the mind so much from the - sullens as a trifling discourse about antiquarian oldwomanries. It is like - knitting a stocking,—diverting the mind without occupying it." - ("Journal," March 9, 1828). - </p> - <p> - Begun about Jan. 1, 1816, "The Antiquary" was published before May 16, - 1816, when Scott writes to say that he has sent Mr. Morritt the novel - "some time since." "It is not so interesting as its predecessors; the - period does not admit of so much romantic situation. But it has been more - fortunate than any of them in the sale, for six thousand went off in the - first six days, and it is now at press again." The Preface of the first - edition ends with the melancholy statement that the author "takes his - respectful leave, as one who is not likely again to solicit favour." - Apparently Scott had already determined not to announce his next novels - ("The Black Dwarf" and "Old Mortality") as "by the Author of Waverley." - Mr. Constable, in the biography of his father, says (iii. 84): "Even - before the publication of 'The Antiquary,' John Ballantyne had been - impowered by the Author to negotiate with Mr. Murray and Mr. Blackwood for - the first series of the 'Tales of my Landlord.'" The note of withdrawal - from the stage, in the first edition of "The Antiquary," was probably only - a part of another experiment on public sagacity. As Lockhart says, Mr. - Murray and Mr. Blackwood thought that the consequent absence of the Author - of "Waverley's" name from the "Tales of my Landlord" would "check very - much the first success of the book;" but they risked this, "to disturb - Constable's tenure." - </p> - <p> - Scott's temporary desertion of Constable in the "Tales of my Landlord" may - have had various motives. There was a slight grudge against Constable, - born of some complications of the Ballantynes' affairs. Perhaps the mere - amusement of the experiment on public sagacity was one of the more - powerful reasons for the change. In our day Lord Lytton and Mr. Trollope - made similar trials of their popularity when anonymous, the former author - with the greater success. The idea of these masquerades and veils of the - incognito appears to have bewitched Constable. William Godwin was writing - for him his novel "Mandeville," and Godwin had obviously been counselled - to try a disguise. He says (Jan. 30, 1816) "I have amused my imagination a - thousand times since last we parted with the masquerade you devised for - me. The world is full of wonder. An old favourite is always reviewed with - coldness. . . . 'Pooh,' they say; 'Godwin has worn his pen to the stump!' - . . . But let me once be equipped with a significant mask and an unknown - character from your masquerade shop, and admitted to figure in with the - 'Last Minstrel,' the 'Lady of the Lake,' and 'Guy Mannering' in the - Scottish carnival, Gods! how the boys and girls will admire me! 'Here is a - new wonder!' they will say. 'Ah, this is something like! Here is Godwin - beaten on his own ground. . . Here is for once a Scottish writer that they - cannot say has anything of the Scotchman about him.'" - </p> - <p> - However, Mr. Godwin did not don the mask and domino. "Mandeville" came out - about the same time as "Rob Roy;" but the "craziness of the public" for - the Author of "Waverley" was not changed into a passion for the - father-in-law of Shelley. - </p> - <p> - "'The Antiquary,' after a little pause of hesitation, attained popularity - not inferior to 'Guy Mannering,' and though the author appears for a - moment to have shared the doubts which he read in the countenance of James - Ballantyne, it certainly was, in the sequel, his chief favourite among all - his novels.'" - </p> - <p> - As Scott said to Terry, "If a man will paint from nature, he will be - likely to amuse those who are daily looking at it." The years which saw - the first appearance of "Guy Mannering" also witnessed that of "Emma." By - the singular chance, or law, which links great authors closely in time, - giving us novelists in pairs, Miss Austen was "drawing from nature" at the - very moment when Scott was wedding nature with romance. How generously and - wisely he admired her is familiar, and it may, to some, seem curious that - he never deliberately set himself to a picture of ordinary life, free from - the intrusion of the unusual, of the heroic. Once, looking down at the - village which lies on the Tweed, opposite Melrose, he remarked that under - its roofs tragedies and tales were doubtless being lived. 'I undertake to - say there is some real romance at this moment going on down there, that, - if it could have justice done to it, would be well worth all the fiction - that was ever spun out of human brains.' But the example he gave was - terrible,—"anything more dreadful was never conceived by Crabbe;" - yet, adds Lockhart, "it would never have entered into his head to - elaborate such a tale." He could not dwell in the unbroken gloom dear to - some modern malingerers. But he could easily have made a tale of common - Scotch life, dark with the sorrow of Mucklebackit, and bright with the - mirth of Cuddie Headrigg. There was, however, this difficulty,—that - Scott cared not to write a story of a single class. "From the peer to the - ploughman," all society mingles in each of his novels. A fiction of - middle-class life did not allure him, and he was not at the best, but at - his worst, as Sydney Smith observed, in the light talk of society. He - could admire Miss Austen, and read her novels again and again; but had he - attempted to follow her, by way of variety, then inevitably wild as well - as disciplined humour would have kept breaking in, and his fancy would - have wandered like the old knights of Arthur's Court, "at adventure." "St. - Ronan's Well" proved the truth of all this. Thus it happens that, in "The - Antiquary," with all his sympathy for the people, with all his knowledge - of them, he does not confine himself to their cottages. As Lockhart says, - in his admirable piece of criticism, he preferred to choose topics in - which he could display "his highest art, that of skilful contrast." - </p> - <p> - Even the tragic romance of "Waverley" does not set off its Macwheebles and - Callum Begs better than the oddities of Jonathan Oldbuck and his circle - are relieved, on the one hand by the stately gloom of the Glenallans, on - the other by the stern affliction of the poor fisherman, who, when - discovered repairing "the auld black bitch of a boat," in which his boy - had been lost, and congratulated by his visitors on being capable of the - exertion, makes answer, "And what would you have me to do, unless I wanted - to see four children starve, because one is drowned? It 's weel with you - gentles, that can sit in the house with handkerchers at your een, when ye - lose a friend; but the like o' us maun to our work again, if our hearts - were beating as hard as ony hammer." And to his work again Scott had to go - when he lost the partner of his life. - </p> - <p> - The simple unsought charm which Lockhart notes in "The Antiquary" may have - passed away in later works, when what had been the amusement of happy days - became the task of sadness. But this magic "The Antiquary" keeps perhaps - beyond all its companions,—the magic of pleasant memories and - friendly associations. The sketches of the epoch of expected invasion, - with its patriotic musters and volunteer drillings, are pictures out of - that part in the author's life which, with his early Highland wanderings - ("Waverley") and his Liddesdale raids ("Guy Mannering"), was most dear to - him. In "Redgauntlet," again, he makes, as Alan Fairford, a return on his - youth and his home, and in "Rob Roy" he revives his Highland - recollections, his Highland lairds of "the blawing, bleezing stories." - None of the rest of the tales are so intimate in their connection with - Scott's own personal history. "The Antiquary" has always, therefore, been - held in the very first rank of his novels. - </p> - <p> - As far as plot goes, though Godwin denied that it had any story, "The - Antiquary" may be placed among the most careful. The underplot of the - Glenallans, gloomy almost beyond endurance, is very ingeniously made to - unravel the mystery of Lovel. The other side-narrative, that of - Dousterswivel, is the weak point of the whole; but this Scott justifies by - "very late instances of the force of superstitious credulity, to a much - greater extent." Some occurrence of the hour may have suggested the - knavish adept with his divining-rod. But facts are never a real excuse for - the morally incredible, or all but incredible, in fiction. On the wealth - and vraisemblance and variety of character it were superfluous to dilate. - As in Shakspeare, there is not even a minor person but lives and is of - flesh and blood, if we except, perhaps, Dousterswivel and Sir Arthur - Wardour. Sir Arthur is only Sir Robert Hazlewood over again, with a - slightly different folly and a somewhat more amiable nature. Lovel's - place, as usual, is among the shades of heroes, and his love-affair is far - less moving, far more summarily treated, than that of Jenny Caxon. The - skilful contrasts are perhaps most remarkable when we compare Elspeth of - the Burnfoot with the gossiping old women in the post-office at Fairport,—a - town studied perhaps from Arbroath. It was the opinion of Sydney Smith - that every one of the novels, before "The Fortunes of Nigel," contained a - Meg Merrilies and a Dominie Sampson. He may have recognized a male Meg in - Edie Ochiltree,—the invaluable character who is always behind a - wall, always overhears everything, and holds the threads of the plot. Or - he may have been hypercritical enough to think that Elspeth of the - Burnfoot is the Meg of the romance. Few will agree with him that Meg - Merrilies, in either of these cases, is "good, but good too often." - </p> - <p> - The supposed "originals" of certain persons in the tale have been topics - of discussion. The character of Oldbuck, like most characters in fiction, - is a combination of traits observed in various persons. Scott says, in a - note to the Ashiestiel fragment of Autobiography, that Mr. George - Constable, an old friend of his father's, "had many of those peculiarities - of character which long afterwards I tried to develop in the character of - Jonathan Oldbuck." Sir Walter, when a child, made Mr. Constable's - acquaintance at Prestonpans in 1777, where he explored the battle-field - "under the learned guidance of Dalgetty." Mr. Constable first introduced - him to Shakspeare's plays, and gave him his first German dictionary. Other - traits may have been suggested by John Clerk of Eldin, whose grandfather - was the hero of the story "Praetorian here, Praetorian there, I made it - wi' a flaughter spade." Lockhart is no doubt right in thinking that - Oldbuck is partly a caricature of Oldbuck's creator,—Sir Walter - indeed frankly accepted the kinship; and the book which he began on his - own collection he proposed to style "Reliquim Trotcosienses; or, the - Gabions of Jonathan Oldbuck." - </p> - <p> - Another person who added a few points to Oldbuck was "Sandy Gordon," - author of the "Itinerarium Septentrionale" (1726), the very folio which - Monkbarns carried in the dilatory coach to Queensferry. Gordon had been a - student in the University of Aberdeen; he was an amateur in many arts, but - antiquarianism was his favourite hobby. He was an acquaintance of Sir John - Clerk of Eldin, the hero of the Praetorium. The words of Gordon in his - "Itinerarium," where he describes the battle of the Grampians, have - supplied, or suggested, the speech of Monkbarns at the Kaim of Kinprunes. - The great question was, Where is the Mons Grampius of Tacitus? Dismissing - Camden's Grantsbain, because he does not know where it is, Gordon says, - "As for our Scotch Antiquaries, they are so divided that some will have it - to be in the shire of Angus, or in the Mearns, some at the Blair of Athol - in Perthshire, or Ardoch in Strathallan, and others at Inverpeffery." - Gordon votes for Strathern, "half a mile short of the Kirk of Comrie." - This spot is both at the foot of the Montes Grampii, "and boasts a Roman - camp capable of holding an army fit to encounter so formidable a number as - thirty thousand Caledonians. . . . Here is the Porta Decumana, opposite - the Prcetoria, together with the dextra and sinistra gates," all - discovered by Sandy Gordon. "Moreover, the situation of the ground is so - very exact with the description given by Tacitus, that in all my travels - through Britain I never beheld anything with more pleasure. . . . Nor is - it difficult, in viewing this ground, to say where the Covinarii, or - Charioteers, stood. In fine, to an Antiquary, this is a ravishing scene." - He adds the argument "that Galgacus's name still remains on this ground, - for the moor on which the camp stood is called to this day Galdachan, or - Galgachan Rosmoor." All this lore Gordon illustrates by an immense chart - of a camp, and a picture of very small Montes Grampii, about the size and - shape of buns. The plate is dedicated to his excellency General Wade. - </p> - <p> - In another point Monkbapns borrows from Gordon. Sandy has a plate (page - 20) of "The Roman Sacellum of Mars Signifer, vulgarly called 'Arthur's - Oon.' With regard to its shape, it is not unlike the famous Pantheon at - Rome before the noble Portico was added to it by Marcus Agrippa." Gordon - agrees with Stukeley in attributing Arthur's Oon to Agricola, and here - Monkbarns and Lovel adopt almost his words. "Time has left Julius - Agricola's very name on the place; . . . and if ever those initial letters - J. A. M. P. M. P. T., mentioned by Sir Robert Sibbald, were engraven on a - stone in this building, it may not be reckoned altogether absurd that they - should bear this reading, JULIUS AGRICOLA MAGNUS PIETATIS MONUMENTUM - POSUIT TEMPLUM; but this my reader may either accept or reject as he - pleases. However, I think it may be as probably received as that - inscription on Caligula's Pharos in Holland, which having these following - letters, C. C. P. F., is read Caius Caligula Pharum Fecit." "This," - Monkbarns adds, "has ever been recorded as a sound exposition." - </p> - <p> - The character of Edie Ochiltree, Scott himself avers to have been - suggested by Andrew Gemmells, pleasantly described in the Introduction. - Mr. Chambers, in "Illustrations of the Author of 'Waverley," clears up a - point doubtful in Scott's memory, by saying that Geimells really was a - Blue-Gown. He rode a horse of his own, and at races was a bookmaker. He - once dropped at Rutherford, in Teviotdale, a clue of yarn containing - twenty guineas. Like Edie Ochiltree, he had served at Fontenoy. He died at - Roxburgh Newton in 1793, at the age of one hundred and five, according to - his own reckoning. "His wealth was the means of enriching a nephew in - Ayrshire, who is now (1825) a considerable landholder there, and belongs - to a respectable class of society." - </p> - <p> - An old Irus of similar character patrolled Teviotdale, while Andrew - Gemmells was attached to Ettrick and Yarrow. This was Blind Willie Craw. - Willie was the Society Journal of Hawick, and levied blackmail on the - inhabitants. He is thus described by Mr. Grieve, in the Diary already - quoted: "He lived at Branxholme Town, in a free house set apart for the - gamekeeper, and for many a year carried all the bread from Hawick used in - my father's family. He came in that way at breakfast-time, and got a - wallet which he put it in, and returned at dinner-time with the 'bawbee - rows' and two loaves. He laid the town of Hawick under contribution for - bawbees, and he knew the history of every individual, and went rhyming - through the town from door to door; and as he knew something against every - one which they would rather wish should not be rehearsed, a bawbee put a - stop to the paragraph which they wished suppressed. Willie Craw was the - son of a gamekeeper of the duke's, and enjoyed a free house at Branxholme - Town as long as he lived." - </p> - <p> - Had Burns ever betaken himself to the gaberlunzie's life, which he speaks - of in one of his poems as "the last o't, the worst o't," he would have - proved a much more formidable satirist than poor Willie Craw, the last of - the "blind crowders." Burns wrote, of course, in a spirit of reckless - humour; but he could not, even in sport, have alluded to the life as - "suited to his habits and powers," had gaberlunzies been mere mendicants. - In Herd's collection of Ballads is one on the ancient Scottish beggar:— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In Scotland there lived a humble beggar, - He had nor house, nor hald, nor hame; - But he was well liked by ilk a body, - And they gave him sunkets to rax his wame. - - A sieve fu' o' meal, a handfu' o' groats, - A dad o' a bannock, or pudding bree, - Cauld porridge, or the lickings o' plates, - Wad make him as blythe as a body could be. -</pre> - <p> - The dress and trade of the beggar are said to have been adopted by James - V. in his adventures, and tradition attributes to him a song, "The - Gaberlunzie Man." - </p> - <p> - One of Edie's most charming traits is his readiness to "fight for his - dish, like the laird for his land," when a French invasion was expected. - Scott places the date of "The False Alarm," when he himself rode a hundred - miles to join his regiment, on Feb. 2, 1804. - </p> - <p> - Lockhart gives it as an event of 1805 (vol. ii. p. 275). The occasion gave - great pleasure to Scott, on account of the patriotism and courage - displayed by all classes. "Me no muckle to fight for?" says Edie. "Isna - there the country to fight for, and the burns I gang dandering beside, and - the hearths o' the gudewives that gie me my bit bread, and the bits o' - weans that come toddling to play wi' me when I come about a landward - town?" Edie had fought at Fontenoy, and was of the old school. Scott would - have been less pleased with a recruit from St. Boswells, on the Tweed. - This man was a shoemaker, John Younger, a very intelligent and worthy - person, famous as an angler and writer on angling, who has left an account - of the "False Alarm" in his memoirs. His view was that the people, unlike - Edie, had nothing to fight for, that only the rich had any reason to be - patriotic, that the French had no quarrel with the poor. In fact, Mr. - Younger was a cosmopolitan democrat, and sneered at the old Border glories - of the warlike days. Probably, however, he would have done his duty, had - the enemy landed, and, like Edie, might have remembered the "burns he - dandered beside," always with a fishingrod in his hand. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The Editor cannot resist the temptation to add that the patriotic - lady mentioned in Scott's note, who "would rather have seen her son - dead on that hearth than hear that he had been a horse's length - behind his companions," was his paternal great-grandmother, Mrs. - John Lang. Her husband, who died shortly afterwards, so that she was - a widow when Scott conversed with her, chanced to be chief - magistrate of Selkirk. His family was aroused late one night by the - sound of a carriage hurrying down the steep and narrow street. Lord - Napier was bringing, probably from Hawick, the tidings that the - beacons were ablaze. The town-bell was instantly rung, the - inhabitants met in the marketplace, where Scott's statue now stands, - and the whole force, with one solitary exception, armed and marched - to Dalkeith. According to the gentleman whose horse and arms were - sent on to meet him, it was intended, if the French proved - victorious, that the population of the Border towns should abandon - their homes and retire to the hills. -</pre> - <p> - No characters in the "Antiquary," except Monkbarns and Edie Ochiltree, - seem to have been borrowed from notable originals. The frauds of - Dousterswivel, Scott says, are rendered plausible by "very late instances - of the force of superstitious credulity to a much greater extent." He can - hardly be referring to the career of Cagliostro, but he may have had in - his memory some unsuccessful mining speculations by Charles Earl of - Traquair, who sought for lead and found little or none in Traquair hills. - The old "Statistical Account of Scotland" (vol. xii. p. 370) says nothing - about imposture, and merely remarks that "the noble family of Traquair - have made several attempts to discover lead mines, and have found - quantities of the ore of that metal, though not adequate to indemnify the - expenses of working, and have therefore given up the attempt." This was - published in 1794, so twenty years had passed when "The Antiquary" was - written. If there was here an "instance of superstitious credulity," it - was not "a very late instance." The divining, or "dowsing," rod of - Dousterswivel still keeps its place in mining superstition and in the - search for wells. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -With "The Antiquary" most contemporary reviews of the novels lose their -interest. Their author had firmly established his position, at least till -"The Monastery" caused some murmurings. Even the "Quarterly Review" was -infinitely more genial in its reception of "The Antiquary" than of "Guy -Mannering." The critic only grumbled at Lovel's feverish dreams, which, -he thought, showed an intention to introduce the marvellous. He -complained of "the dark dialect of Anglified Erse," but found comfort in -the glossary appended. The "Edinburgh Review" pronounced the chapter on -the escape from the tide to be "I the very best description we have ever -met, inverse or in prose, in ancient or in modern writing." No reviewer -seems to have noticed that the sun is made to set in the sea, on the east -coast of Scotland. The "Edinburgh," however, declared that the Antiquary, -"at least in so far as he is an Antiquary," was the chief blemish on the -book. The "sweet heathen of Monkbarns" has not suffered from this -disparagement. The "British Critic" pledged its reputation that Scott was -the author. If an argument were wanted, "it would be that which has been -applied to prove the authenticity of the last book of the Iliad,—that -Homer must have written it, because no one else could." Alas! that -argument does not convince German critics. - ANDREW LANG. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FIRST. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Go call a coach, and let a coach be called, - And let the man who calleth be the caller; - And in his calling let him nothing call, - But Coach! Coach! Coach! O for a coach, ye gods! - Chrononhotonthologos. -</pre> - <p> - It was early on a fine summer's day, near the end of the eighteenth - century, when a young man, of genteel appearance, journeying towards the - north-east of Scotland, provided himself with a ticket in one of those - public carriages which travel between Edinburgh and the Queensferry, at - which place, as the name implies, and as is well known to all my northern - readers, there is a passage-boat for crossing the Firth of Forth. The - coach was calculated to carry six regular passengers, besides such - interlopers as the coachman could pick up by the way, and intrude upon - those who were legally in possession. The tickets, which conferred right - to a seat in this vehicle, of little ease, were dispensed by a - sharp-looking old dame, with a pair of spectacles on a very thin nose, who - inhabited a "laigh shop," <i>anglice,</i> a cellar, opening to the High - Street by a straight and steep stair, at the bottom of which she sold - tape, thread, needles, skeins of worsted, coarse linen cloth, and such - feminine gear, to those who had the courage and skill to descend to the - profundity of her dwelling, without falling headlong themselves, or - throwing down any of the numerous articles which, piled on each side of - the descent, indicated the profession of the trader below. - </p> - <p> - The written hand-bill, which, pasted on a projecting board, announced that - the Queensferry Diligence, or Hawes Fly, departed precisely at twelve - o'clock on Tuesday, the fifteenth July 17—, in order to secure for - travellers the opportunity of passing the Firth with the flood-tide, lied - on the present occasion like a bulletin; for although that hour was pealed - from Saint Giles's steeple, and repeated by the Tron, no coach appeared - upon the appointed stand. It is true, only two tickets had been taken out, - and possibly the lady of the subterranean mansion might have an - understanding with her Automedon, that, in such cases, a little space was - to be allowed for the chance of filling up the vacant places—or the - said Automedon might have been attending a funeral, and be delayed by the - necessity of stripping his vehicle of its lugubrious trappings—or he - might have staid to take a half-mutchkin extraordinary with his crony the - hostler—or—in short, he did not make his appearance. - </p> - <p> - The young gentleman, who began to grow somewhat impatient, was now joined - by a companion in this petty misery of human life—the person who had - taken out the other place. He who is bent upon a journey is usually easily - to be distinguished from his fellow-citizens. The boots, the great-coat, - the umbrella, the little bundle in his hand, the hat pulled over his - resolved brows, the determined importance of his pace, his brief answers - to the salutations of lounging acquaintances, are all marks by which the - experienced traveller in mail-coach or diligence can distinguish, at a - distance, the companion of his future journey, as he pushes onward to the - place of rendezvous. It is then that, with worldly wisdom, the first comer - hastens to secure the best berth in the coach for himself, and to make the - most convenient arrangement for his baggage before the arrival of his - competitors. Our youth, who was gifted with little prudence, of any sort, - and who was, moreover, by the absence of the coach, deprived of the power - of availing himself of his priority of choice, amused himself, instead, by - speculating upon the occupation and character of the personage who was now - come to the coach office. - </p> - <p> - He was a good-looking man of the age of sixty, perhaps older,—but - his hale complexion and firm step announced that years had not impaired - his strength or health. His countenance was of the true Scottish cast, - strongly marked, and rather harsh in features, with a shrewd and - penetrating eye, and a countenance in which habitual gravity was enlivened - by a cast of ironical humour. His dress was uniform, and of a colour - becoming his age and gravity; a wig, well dressed and powdered, surmounted - by a slouched hat, had something of a professional air. He might be a - clergyman, yet his appearance was more that of a man of the world than - usually belongs to the kirk of Scotland, and his first ejaculation put the - matter beyond question. - </p> - <p> - He arrived with a hurried pace, and, casting an alarmed glance towards the - dial-plate of the church, then looking at the place where the coach should - have been, exclaimed, "Deil's in it—I am too late after all!" - </p> - <p> - The young man relieved his anxiety, by telling him the coach had not yet - appeared. The old gentleman, apparently conscious of his own want of - punctuality, did not at first feel courageous enough to censure that of - the coachman. He took a parcel, containing apparently a large folio, from - a little boy who followed him, and, patting him on the head, bid him go - back and tell Mr. B——, that if he had known he was to have had - so much time, he would have put another word or two to their bargain,—then - told the boy to mind his business, and he would be as thriving a lad as - ever dusted a duodecimo. The boy lingered, perhaps in hopes of a penny to - buy marbles; but none was forthcoming. Our senior leaned his little bundle - upon one of the posts at the head of the staircase, and, facing the - traveller who had first arrived, waited in silence for about five minutes - the arrival of the expected diligence. - </p> - <p> - At length, after one or two impatient glances at the progress of the - minute-hand of the clock, having compared it with his own watch, a huge - and antique gold repeater, and having twitched about his features to give - due emphasis to one or two peevish pshaws, he hailed the old lady of the - cavern. - </p> - <p> - "Good woman,—what the d—l is her name?—Mrs. Macleuchar!" - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Macleuchar, aware that she had a defensive part to sustain in the - encounter which was to follow, was in no hurry to hasten the discussion by - returning a ready answer. - </p> - <p> - "Mrs. Macleuchar,—Good woman" (with an elevated voice)—then - apart, "Old doited hag, she's as deaf as a post—I say, Mrs. - Macleuchar!" - </p> - <p> - "I am just serving a customer.—Indeed, hinny, it will no be a bodle - cheaper than I tell ye." - </p> - <p> - "Woman," reiterated the traveller, "do you think we can stand here all day - till you have cheated that poor servant wench out of her half-year's fee - and bountith?" - </p> - <p> - "Cheated!" retorted Mrs. Macleuchar, eager to take up the quarrel upon a - defensible ground; "I scorn your words, sir: you are an uncivil person, - and I desire you will not stand there, to slander me at my ain - stair-head." - </p> - <p> - "The woman," said the senior, looking with an arch glance at his destined - travelling companion, "does not understand the words of action.—Woman," - again turning to the vault, "I arraign not thy character, but I desire to - know what is become of thy coach?" - </p> - <p> - "What's your wull?" answered Mrs. Macleuchar, relapsing into deafness. - </p> - <p> - "We have taken places, ma'am," said the younger stranger, "in your - diligence for Queensferry"——"Which should have been half-way - on the road before now," continued the elder and more impatient traveller, - rising in wrath as he spoke: "and now in all likelihood we shall miss the - tide, and I have business of importance on the other side—and your - cursed coach"— - </p> - <p> - "The coach?—Gude guide us, gentlemen, is it no on the stand yet?" - answered the old lady, her shrill tone of expostulation sinking into a - kind of apologetic whine. "Is it the coach ye hae been waiting for?" - </p> - <p> - "What else could have kept us broiling in the sun by the side of the - gutter here, you—you faithless woman, eh?" - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Macleuchar now ascended her trap stair (for such it might be called, - though constructed of stone), until her nose came upon a level with the - pavement; then, after wiping her spectacles to look for that which she - well knew was not to be found, she exclaimed, with well-feigned - astonishment, "Gude guide us—saw ever onybody the like o' that?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, you abominable woman," vociferated the traveller, "many have seen - the like of it, and all will see the like of it that have anything to do - with your trolloping sex;" then pacing with great indignation before the - door of the shop, still as he passed and repassed, like a vessel who gives - her broadside as she comes abreast of a hostile fortress, he shot down - complaints, threats, and reproaches, on the embarrassed Mrs. Macleuchar. - He would take a post-chaise—he would call a hackney coach—he - would take four horses—he must—he would be on the north side, - to-day—and all the expense of his journey, besides damages, direct - and consequential, arising from delay, should be accumulated on the - devoted head of Mrs. Macleuchar. - </p> - <p> - There, was something so comic in his pettish resentment, that the younger - traveller, who was in no such pressing hurry to depart, could not help - being amused with it, especially as it was obvious, that every now and - then the old gentleman, though very angry, could not help laughing at his - own vehemence. But when Mrs. Macleuchar began also to join in the - laughter, he quickly put a stop to her ill-timed merriment. - </p> - <p> - "Woman," said he, "is that advertisement thine?" showing a bit of crumpled - printed paper: "Does it not set forth, that, God willing, as you - hypocritically express it, the Hawes Fly, or Queensferry Diligence, would - set forth to-day at twelve o'clock; and is it not, thou falsest of - creatures, now a quarter past twelve, and no such fly or diligence to be - seen?—Dost thou know the consequence of seducing the lieges by false - reports?—dost thou know it might be brought under the statute of - leasing-making? Answer—and for once in thy long, useless, and evil - life, let it be in the words of truth and sincerity,—hast thou such - a coach?—is it <i>in rerum natura?</i>—or is this base - annunciation a mere swindle on the incautious to beguile them of their - time, their patience, and three shillings of sterling money of this realm?—Hast - thou, I say, such a coach? ay or no?" - </p> - <p> - "O dear, yes, sir; the neighbours ken the diligence weel, green picked oat - wi' red—three yellow wheels and a black ane." - </p> - <p> - "Woman, thy special description will not serve—it may be only a lie - with a circumstance." - </p> - <p> - "O, man, man!" said the overwhelmed Mrs. Macleuchar, totally exhausted at - having been so long the butt of his rhetoric, "take back your three - shillings, and make me quit o' ye." - </p> - <p> - "Not so fast, not so fast, woman—Will three shillings transport me - to Queensferry, agreeably to thy treacherous program?—or will it - requite the damage I may sustain by leaving my business undone, or repay - the expenses which I must disburse if I am obliged to tarry a day at the - South Ferry for lack of tide?—Will it hire, I say, a pinnace, for - which alone the regular price is five shillings?" - </p> - <p> - Here his argument was cut short by a lumbering noise, which proved to be - the advance of the expected vehicle, pressing forward with all the - dispatch to which the broken-winded jades that drew it could possibly be - urged. With ineffable pleasure, Mrs. Macleuchar saw her tormentor - deposited in the leathern convenience; but still, as it was driving off, - his head thrust out of the window reminded her, in words drowned amid the - rumbling of the wheels, that, if the diligence did not attain the Ferry in - time to save the flood-tide, she, Mrs. Macleuchar, should be held - responsible for all the consequences that might ensue. - </p> - <p> - The coach had continued in motion for a mile or two before the stranger - had completely repossessed himself of his equanimity, as was manifested by - the doleful ejaculations, which he made from time to time, on the too - great probability, or even certainty, of their missing the flood-tide. By - degrees, however, his wrath subsided; he wiped his brows, relaxed his - frown, and, undoing the parcel in his hand, produced his folio, on which - he gazed from time to time with the knowing look of an amateur, admiring - its height and condition, and ascertaining, by a minute and individual - inspection of each leaf, that the volume was uninjured and entire from - title-page to colophon. His fellow-traveller took the liberty of inquiring - the subject of his studies. He lifted up his eyes with something of a - sarcastic glance, as if he supposed the young querist would not relish, or - perhaps understand, his answer, and pronounced the book to be Sandy - Gordon's <i>Itinerarium Septentrionale,</i>* a book illustrative of the - Roman remains in Scotland. - </p> - <p> - * Note B. Sandy Gordon's <i>Itinerarium.</i> - </p> - <p> - The querist, unappalled by this learned title, proceeded to put several - questions, which indicated that he had made good use of a good education, - and, although not possessed of minute information on the subject of - antiquities, had yet acquaintance enough with the classics to render him - an interested and intelligent auditor when they were enlarged upon. The - elder traveller, observing with pleasure the capacity of his temporary - companion to understand and answer him, plunged, nothing loath, into a sea - of discussion concerning urns, vases, votive, altars, Roman camps, and the - rules of castrametation. - </p> - <p> - The pleasure of this discourse had such a dulcifying tendency, that, - although two causes of delay occurred, each of much more serious duration - than that which had drawn down his wrath upon the unlucky Mrs. Macleuchar, - our =Antiquary= only bestowed on the delay the honour of a few episodical - poohs and pshaws, which rather seemed to regard the interruption of his - disquisition than the retardation of his journey. - </p> - <p> - The first of these stops was occasioned by the breaking of a spring, which - half an hour's labour hardly repaired. To the second, the Antiquary was - himself accessory, if not the principal cause of it; for, observing that - one of the horses had cast a fore-foot shoe, he apprized the coachman of - this important deficiency. "It's Jamie Martingale that furnishes the naigs - on contract, and uphauds them," answered John, "and I am not entitled to - make any stop, or to suffer prejudice by the like of these accidents." - </p> - <p> - "And when you go to—I mean to the place you deserve to go to, you - scoundrel,—who do you think will uphold <i>you</i> on contract? If - you don't stop directly and carry the poor brute, to the next smithy, I'll - have you punished, if there's a justice of peace in Mid-Lothian;" and, - opening the coach-door, out he jumped, while the coachman obeyed his - orders, muttering, that "if the gentlemen lost the tide now, they could - not say but it was their ain fault, since he was willing to get on." - </p> - <p> - I like so little to analyze the complication of the causes which influence - actions, that I will not venture to ascertain whether our Antiquary's - humanity to the poor horse was not in some degree aided by his desire of - showing his companion a Pict's camp, or Round-about, a subject which he - had been elaborately discussing, and of which a specimen, "very curious - and perfect indeed," happened to exist about a hundred yards distant from - the spot where this interruption took place. But were I compelled to - decompose the motives of my worthy friend (for such was the gentleman in - the sober suit, with powdered wig and slouched hat), I should say, that, - although he certainly would not in any case have suffered the coachman to - proceed while the horse was unfit for service, and likely to suffer by - being urged forward, yet the man of whipcord escaped some severe abuse and - reproach by the agreeable mode which the traveller found out to pass the - interval of delay. - </p> - <p> - So much time was consumed by these interruptions of their journey, that - when they descended the hill above the Hawes (for so the inn on the - southern side of the Queensferry is denominated), the experienced eye of - the Antiquary at once discerned, from the extent of wet sand, and the - number of black stones and rocks, covered with sea-weed, which were - visible along the skirts of the shore, that the hour of tide was past. The - young traveller expected a burst of indignation; but whether, as Croaker - says in "The Good-natured Man," our hero had exhausted himself in fretting - away his misfortunes beforehand, so that he did not feel them when they - actually arrived, or whether he found the company in which he was placed - too congenial to lead him to repine at anything which delayed his journey, - it is certain that he submitted to his lot with much resignation. - </p> - <p> - "The d—l's in the diligence and the old hag, it belongs to!—Diligence, - quoth I? Thou shouldst have called it the Sloth—Fly, quoth she? why, - it moves like a fly through a glue-pot, as the Irishman says. But, - however, time and tide tarry for no man, and so, my young friend, we'll - have a snack here at the Hawes, which is a very decent sort of a place, - and I'll be very happy to finish the account I was giving you of the - difference between the mode of entrenching <i>castra stativa</i> and <i>castra - aestiva,</i> things confounded by too many of our historians. Lack-a-day, - if they had ta'en the pains to satisfy their own eyes, instead of - following each other's blind guidance!—Well! we shall be pretty - comfortable at the Hawes; and besides, after all, we must have dined - somewhere, and it will be pleasanter sailing with the tide of ebb and the - evening breeze." - </p> - <p> - In this Christian temper of making the best of all occurrences, our - travellers alighted at the Hawes. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SECOND. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sir, they do scandal me upon the road here! - A poor quotidian rack of mutton roasted - Dry to be grated! and that driven down - With beer and butter-milk, mingled together. - It is against my freehold, my inheritance. - Wine is the word that glads the heart of man, - And mine's the house of wine. <i>Sack,</i> says my bush, - <i>Be merry and drink Sherry,</i> that's my posie. - Ben Jonson's <i>New Inn.</i> -</pre> - <p> - As the senior traveller descended the crazy steps of the diligence at the - inn, he was greeted by the fat, gouty, pursy landlord, with that mixture - of familiarity and respect which the Scotch innkeepers of the old school - used to assume towards their more valued customers. - </p> - <p> - "Have a care o' us, Monkbarns (distinguishing him by his territorial - epithet, always most agreeable to the ear of a Scottish proprietor), is - this you? I little thought to have seen your honour here till the summer - session was ower." - </p> - <p> - "Ye donnard auld deevil," answered his guest, his Scottish accent - predominating when in anger though otherwise not particularly remarkable,—"ye - donnard auld crippled idiot, what have I to do with the session, or the - geese that flock to it, or the hawks that pick their pinions for them?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth, and that's true," said mine host, who, in fact, only spoke upon a - very general recollection of the stranger's original education, yet would - have been sorry not to have been supposed accurate as to the station and - profession of him, or any other occasional guest—"That's very true,—but - I thought ye had some law affair of your ain to look after—I have - ane mysell—a ganging plea that my father left me, and his father - afore left to him. It's about our back-yard—ye'll maybe hae heard of - it in the Parliament-house, Hutchison against Mackitchinson—it's a - weel-kenn'd plea—its been four times in afore the fifteen, and deil - ony thing the wisest o' them could make o't, but just to send it out again - to the outer-house.—O it's a beautiful thing to see how lang and how - carefully justice is considered in this country!" - </p> - <p> - "Hold your tongue, you fool," said the traveller, but in great - good-humour, "and tell us what you can give this young gentleman and me - for dinner." - </p> - <p> - "Ou, there's fish, nae doubt,—that's sea-trout and caller haddocks," - said Mackitchinson, twisting his napkin; "and ye'll be for a mutton-chop, - and there's cranberry tarts, very weel preserved, and—and there's - just ony thing else ye like." - </p> - <p> - "Which is to say, there is nothing else whatever? Well, well, the fish and - the chop, and the tarts, will do very well. But don't imitate the cautious - delay that you praise in the courts of justice. Let there be no remits - from the inner to the outer house, hear ye me?" - </p> - <p> - "Na, na," said Mackitchinson, whose long and heedful perusal of volumes of - printed session papers had made him acquainted with some law phrases—"the - denner shall be served <i>quam primum</i> and that <i>peremptorie.</i>" - And with the flattering laugh of a promising host, he left them in his - sanded parlour, hung with prints of the Four Seasons. - </p> - <p> - As, notwithstanding his pledge to the contrary, the glorious delays of the - law were not without their parallel in the kitchen of the inn, our younger - traveller had an opportunity to step out and make some inquiry of the - people of the house concerning the rank and station of his companion. The - information which he received was of a general and less authentic nature, - but quite sufficient to make him acquainted with the name, history, and - circumstances of the gentleman, whom we shall endeavour, in a few words, - to introduce more accurately to our readers. - </p> - <p> - Jonathan Oldenbuck, or Oldinbuck, by popular contraction Oldbuck, of - Monkbarns, was the second son of a gentleman possessed of a small property - in the neighbourhood of a thriving seaport town on the north-eastern coast - of Scotland, which, for various reasons, we shall denominate Fairport. - They had been established for several generations, as landholders in the - county, and in most shires of England would have been accounted a family - of some standing. But the shire of——was filled with gentlemen - of more ancient descent and larger fortune. In the last generation, also, - the neighbouring gentry had been almost uniformly Jacobites, while the - proprietors of Monkbarns, like the burghers of the town near which they - were settled, were steady assertors of the Protestant succession. The - latter had, however, a pedigree of their own, on which they prided - themselves as much as those who despised them valued their respective - Saxon, Norman, or Celtic genealogies. The first Oldenbuck, who had settled - in their family mansion shortly after the Reformation, was, they asserted, - descended from one of the original printers of Germany, and had left his - country in consequence of the persecutions directed against the professors - of the Reformed religion. He had found a refuge in the town near which his - posterity dwelt, the more readily that he was a sufferer in the Protestant - cause, and certainly not the less so, that he brought with him money - enough to purchase the small estate of Monkbarns, then sold by a - dissipated laird, to whose father it had been gifted, with other church - lands, on the dissolution of the great and wealthy monastery to which it - had belonged. The Oldenbucks were therefore, loyal subjects on all - occasions of insurrection; and, as they kept up a good intelligence with - the borough, it chanced that the Laird of Monkbarns, who flourished in - 1745, was provost of the town during that ill-fated year, and had exerted - himself with much spirit in favour of King George, and even been put to - expenses on that score, which, according to the liberal conduct of the - existing government towards their friends, had never been repaid him. By - dint of solicitation, however, and borough interest, he contrived to gain - a place in the customs, and, being a frugal, careful man, had found - himself enabled to add considerably to his paternal fortune. He had only - two sons, of whom, as we have hinted, the present laird was the younger, - and two daughters, one of whom still flourished in single blessedness, and - the other, who was greatly more juvenile, made a love-match with a captain - in the <i>Forty-twa,</i> who had no other fortune but his commission and a - Highland pedigree. Poverty disturbed a union which love would otherwise - have made happy, and Captain M'Intyre, in justice to his wife and two - children, a boy and girl, had found himself obliged to seek his fortune in - the East Indies. Being ordered upon an expedition against Hyder Ally, the - detachment to which he belonged was cut off, and no news ever reached his - unfortunate wife, whether he fell in battle, or was murdered in prison, or - survived in what the habits of the Indian tyrant rendered a hopeless - captivity. She sunk under the accumulated load of grief and uncertainty, - and left a son and daughter to the charge of her brother, the existing - Laird of Monkbarns. - </p> - <p> - The history of that proprietor himself is soon told. Being, as we have - said, a second son, his father destined him to a share in a substantial - mercantile concern, carried on by some of his maternal relations. From - this Jonathan's mind revolted in the most irreconcilable manner. He was - then put apprentice to the profession of a writer, or attorney, in which - he profited so far, that he made himself master of the whole forms of - feudal investitures, and showed such pleasure in reconciling their - incongruities, and tracing their origin, that his master had great hope he - would one day be an able conveyancer. But he halted upon the threshold, - and, though he acquired some knowledge of the origin and system of the law - of his country, he could never be persuaded to apply it to lucrative and - practical purposes. It was not from any inconsiderate neglect of the - advantages attending the possession of money that he thus deceived the - hopes of his master. "Were he thoughtless or light-headed, or <i>rei suae - prodigus,</i>" said his instructor, "I would know what to make of him. But - he never pays away a shilling without looking anxiously after the change, - makes his sixpence go farther than another lad's half-crown, and wilt - ponder over an old black-letter copy of the acts of parliament for days, - rather than go to the golf or the change-house; and yet he will not bestow - one of these days on a little business of routine, that would put twenty - shillings in his pocket—a strange mixture of frugality and industry, - and negligent indolence—I don't know what to make of him." - </p> - <p> - But in process of time his pupil gained the means of making what he - pleased of himself; for his father having died, was not long survived by - his eldest son, an arrant fisher and fowler, who departed this life, in - consequence of a cold caught in his vocation, while shooting ducks in the - swamp called Kittlefittingmoss, notwithstanding his having drunk a bottle - of brandy that very night to keep the cold out of his stomach. Jonathan, - therefore, succeeded to the estate, and with it to the means of subsisting - without the hated drudgery of the law. His wishes were very moderate; and - as the rent of his small property rose with the improvement of the - country, it soon greatly exceeded his wants and expenditure; and though - too indolent to make money, he was by no means insensible to the pleasure - of beholding it accumulate. The burghers of the town near which he lived - regarded him with a sort of envy, as one who affected to divide himself - from their rank in society, and whose studies and pleasures seemed to them - alike incomprehensible. Still, however, a sort of hereditary respect for - the Laird of Monkbarns, augmented by the knowledge of his being a - ready-money man, kept up his consequence with this class of his - neighbours. The country gentlemen were generally above him in fortune, and - beneath him in intellect, and, excepting one with whom he lived in habits - of intimacy, had little intercourse with Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns. He, - had, however, the usual resources, the company of the clergyman, and of - the doctor, when he chose to request it, and also his own pursuits and - pleasures, being in correspondence with most of the virtuosi of his time, - who, like himself, measured decayed entrenchments, made plans of ruined - castles, read illegible inscriptions, and wrote essays on medals in the - proportion of twelve pages to each letter of the legend. Some habits of - hasty irritation he had contracted, partly, it was said in the borough of - Fairport, from an early disappointment in love in virtue of which he had - commenced misogynist, as he called it, but yet more by the obsequious - attention paid to him by his maiden sister and his orphan niece, whom he - had trained to consider him as the greatest man upon earth, and whom he - used to boast of as the only women he had ever seen who were well broke in - and bitted to obedience; though, it must be owned, Miss Grizzy Oldbuck was - sometimes apt to <i>jibb</i> when he pulled the reins too tight. The rest - of his character must be gathered from the story, and we dismiss with - pleasure the tiresome task of recapitulation. - </p> - <p> - During the time of dinner, Mr. Oldbuck, actuated by the same curiosity - which his fellow-traveller had entertained on his account, made some - advances, which his age and station entitled him to do in a more direct - manner, towards ascertaining the name, destination, and quality of his - young companion. - </p> - <p> - His name, the young gentleman said, was Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "What! the cat, the rat, and Lovel our dog? Was he descended from King - Richard's favourite?" - </p> - <p> - "He had no pretensions," he said, "to call himself a whelp of that litter; - his father was a north-of-England gentleman. He was at present travelling - to Fairport (the town near to which Monkbarns was situated), and, if he - found the place agreeable, might perhaps remain there for some weeks." - </p> - <p> - "Was Mr. Lovel's excursion solely for pleasure?" - </p> - <p> - "Not entirely." - </p> - <p> - "Perhaps on business with some of the commercial people of Fairport?" - </p> - <p> - "It was partly on business, but had no reference to commerce." - </p> - <p> - Here he paused; and Mr. Oldbuck, having pushed his inquiries as far as - good manners permitted, was obliged to change the conversation. The - Antiquary, though by no means an enemy to good cheer, was a determined foe - to all unnecessary expense on a journey; and upon his companion giving a - hint concerning a bottle of port wine, he drew a direful picture of the - mixture, which, he said, was usually sold under that denomination, and - affirming that a little punch was more genuine and better suited for the - season, he laid his hand upon the bell to order the materials. But - Mackitchinson had, in his own mind, settled their beverage otherwise, and - appeared bearing in his hand an immense double quart bottle, or magnum, as - it is called in Scotland, covered with saw-dust and cobwebs, the warrants - of its antiquity. - </p> - <p> - "Punch!" said he, catching that generous sound as he entered the parlour, - "the deil a drap punch ye'se get here the day, Monkbarns, and that ye may - lay your account wi'." - </p> - <p> - "What do you mean, you impudent rascal?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay, it's nae matter for that—but do you mind the trick ye - served me the last time ye were here!" - </p> - <p> - "I trick you!" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, just yoursell, Monkbarns. The Laird o' Tamlowrie and Sir Gilbert - Grizzlecleuch, and Auld Rossballoh, and the Bailie, were just setting in - to make an afternoon o't, and you, wi' some o' your auld-warld stories, - that the mind o' man canna resist, whirl'd them to the back o' beyont to - look at the auld Roman camp—Ah, sir!" turning to Lovel, "he wad wile - the bird aff the tree wi' the tales he tells about folk lang syne—and - did not I lose the drinking o' sax pints o' gude claret, for the deil ane - wad hae stirred till he had seen that out at the least?" - </p> - <p> - "D'ye hear the impudent scoundrel!" said Monkbarns, but laughing at the - same time; for the worthy landlord, as he used to boast, know the measure - of a guest's foot as well as e'er a souter on this side Solway; "well, - well, you may send us in a bottle of port." - </p> - <p> - "Port! na, na! ye maun leave port and punch to the like o' us, it's claret - that's fit for you lairds; and, I dare say, nane of the folk ye speak so - much o' ever drank either of the twa." - </p> - <p> - "Do you hear how absolute the knave is? Well, my young friend, we must for - once prefer the <i>Falernian</i> to the <i>vile Sabinum.</i>" - </p> - <p> - The ready landlord had the cork instantly extracted, decanted the wine - into a vessel of suitable capaciousness, and, declaring it <i>parfumed</i> - the very room, left his guests to make the most of it. - </p> - <p> - Mackitchinson's wine was really good, and had its effect upon the spirits - of the elder guest, who told some good stories, cut some sly jokes, and at - length entered into a learned discussion concerning the ancient - dramatists; a ground on which he found his new acquaintance so strong, - that at length he began to suspect he had made them his professional - study. "A traveller partly for business and partly for pleasure?—why, - the stage partakes of both; it is a labour to the performers, and affords, - or is meant to afford, pleasure to the spectators. He seems, in manner and - rank, above the class of young men who take that turn; but I remember - hearing them say, that the little theatre at Fairport was to open with the - performance of a young gentleman, being his first appearance on any stage.—If - this should be thee, Lovel!—Lovel? yes, Lovel or Belville are just - the names which youngsters are apt to assume on such occasions—on my - life, I am sorry for the lad." - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck was habitually parsimonious, but in no respects mean; his - first thought was to save his fellow-traveller any part of the expense of - the entertainment, which he supposed must be in his situation more or less - inconvenient. He therefore took an opportunity of settling privately with - Mr. Mackitchinson. The young traveller remonstrated against his - liberality, and only acquiesced in deference to his years and - respectability. - </p> - <p> - The mutual satisfaction which they found in each other's society induced - Mr. Oldbuck to propose, and Lovel willingly to accept, a scheme for - travelling together to the end of their journey. Mr. Oldbuck intimated a - wish to pay two-thirds of the hire of a post-chaise, saying, that a - proportional quantity of room was necessary to his accommodation; but this - Mr. Lovel resolutely declined. Their expense then was mutual, unless when - Lovel occasionally slipt a shilling into the hand of a growling postilion; - for Oldbuck, tenacious of ancient customs, never extended his guerdon - beyond eighteen-pence a stage. In this manner they travelled, until they - arrived at Fairport* about two o'clock on the following day. - </p> - <p> - * [The "Fairport" of this novel is supposed to refer to the town of * - Arbroath, in Forfarshire, and "Musselcrag," <i>post,</i> to the fishing - village of * Auchmithie, in the same county.] - </p> - <p> - Lovel probably expected that his travelling companion would have invited - him to dinner on his arrival; but his consciousness of a want of ready - preparation for unexpected guests, and perhaps some other reasons, - prevented Oldbuck from paying him that attention. He only begged to see - him as early as he could make it convenient to call in a forenoon, - recommended him to a widow who had apartments to let, and to a person who - kept a decent ordinary; cautioning both of them apart, that he only knew - Mr. Lovel as a pleasant companion in a post-chaise, and did not mean to - guarantee any bills which he might contract while residing at Fairport. - The young gentleman's figure and manners; not to mention a well-furnished - trunk, which soon arrived by sea, to his address at Fairport, probably - went as far in his favour as the limited recommendation of his - fellow-traveller. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER THIRD. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - He had a routh o' auld nick-nackets, - Rusty airn caps, and jinglin-jackets, - Would held the Loudons three in tackets, - A towmond gude; - And parritch-pats, and auld sayt-backets, - Afore the flude. - Burns. -</pre> - <p> - After he had settled himself in his new apartments at Fairport, Mr. Lovel - bethought him of paying the requested visit to his fellow-traveller. He - did not make it earlier, because, with all the old gentleman's good-humour - and information, there had sometimes glanced forth in his language and - manner towards him an air of superiority, which his companion considered - as being fully beyond what the difference of age warranted. He therefore - waited the arrival of his baggage from Edinburgh, that he might arrange - his dress according to the fashion of the day, and make his exterior - corresponding to the rank in society which he supposed or felt himself - entitled to hold. - </p> - <p> - It was the fifth day after his arrival, that, having made the necessary - inquiries concerning the road, he went forth to pay his respects at - Monkbarns. A footpath leading over a heathy hill, and through two or three - meadows, conducted him to this mansion, which stood on the opposite side - of the hill aforesaid, and commanded a fine prospect of the bay and - shipping. Secluded from the town by the rising ground, which also screened - it from the north-west wind, the house had a solitary, and sheltered - appearance. The exterior had little to recommend it. It was an irregular - old-fashioned building, some part of which had belonged to a grange, or - solitary farm-house, inhabited by the bailiff, or steward, of the - monastery, when the place was in possession of the monks. It was here that - the community stored up the grain, which they received as ground-rent from - their vassals; for, with the prudence belonging to their order, all their - conventional revenues were made payable in kind, and hence, as the present - proprietor loved to tell, came the name of Monkbarns. To the remains of - the bailiff's house, the succeeding lay inhabitants had made various - additions in proportion to the accommodation required by their families; - and, as this was done with an equal contempt of convenience within and - architectural regularity without, the whole bore the appearance of a - hamlet which had suddenly stood still when in the act of leading down one - of Amphion's, or Orpheus's, country dances. It was surrounded by tall - clipped hedges of yew and holly, some of which still exhibited the skill - of the <i>topiarian</i> artist,* and presented curious arm-chairs, towers, - and the figures of Saint George and the Dragon. - </p> - <p> - * <i>Ars Topiaria,</i> the art of clipping yew-hedges into fantastic - figures. A Latin poem, entitled <i>Ars Topiaria,</i> contains a curious - account of the process. - </p> - <p> - The taste of Mr. Oldbuck did not disturb these monuments of an art now - unknown, and he was the less tempted so to do, as it must necessarily have - broken the heart of the old gardener. One tall embowering holly was, - however, sacred from the shears; and, on a garden seat beneath its shade, - Lovel beheld his old friend with spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, - busily employed in perusing the London Chronicle, soothed by the summer - breeze through the rustling leaves, and the distant dash of the waves as - they rippled upon the sand. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck immediately rose, and advanced to greet his travelling - acquaintance with a hearty shake of the hand. "By my faith," said he, "I - began to think you had changed your mind, and found the stupid people of - Fairport so tiresome, that you judged them unworthy of your talents, and - had taken French leave, as my old friend and brother-antiquary Mac-Cribb - did, when he went off with one of my Syrian medals." - </p> - <p> - "I hope, my good sir, I should have fallen under no such imputation." - </p> - <p> - "Quite as bad, let me tell you, if you had stolen yourself away without - giving me the pleasure of seeing you again. I had rather you had taken my - copper Otho himself.—But come, let me show you the way into my <i>sanctum - sanctorum</i>—my cell I may call it, for, except two idle hussies of - womankind," (by this contemptuous phrase, borrowed from his - brother-antiquary, the cynic Anthony a-Wood, Mr. Oldbuck was used to - denote the fair sex in general, and his sister and niece in particular), - "that, on some idle pretext of relationship, have established themselves - in my premises, I live here as much a Coenobite as my predecessor, John o' - the Girnell, whose grave I will show you by and by." - </p> - <p> - Thus speaking the old gentleman led the way through a low door; but before - entrance, suddenly stopped short to point out some vestiges of what he - called an inscription, and, shaking his head as he pronounced it totally - illegible, "Ah! if you but knew, Mr. Lovel, the time and trouble that - these mouldering traces of letters have cost me! No mother ever travailed - so for a child—and all to no purpose—although I am almost - positive that these two last marks imply the figures, or letters, LV, and - may give us a good guess at the real date of the building, since we know, - <i>aliunde,</i> that it was founded by Abbot Waldimir about the middle of - the fourteenth century—and, I profess, I think that centre ornament - might be made out by better eyes than mine." - </p> - <p> - "I think," answered Lovel, willing to humour the old man, "it has - something the appearance of a mitre." - </p> - <p> - "I protest you are right! you are right! it never struck me before—see - what it is to have younger eyes—A mitre—a mitre—it - corresponds in every respect." - </p> - <p> - The resemblance was not much nearer than that of Polonius's cloud to a - whale, or an owzel; it was sufficient, however, to set the Antiquary's - brains to work. "A mitre, my dear sir," continued he, as he led the way - through a labyrinth of inconvenient and dark passages, and accompanied his - disquisition with certain necessary cautions to his guest—"A mitre, - my dear sir, will suit our abbot as well as a bishop—he was a mitred - abbot, and at the very top of the roll—take care of these three - steps—I know Mac-Cribb denies this, but it is as certain as that he - took away my Antigonus, no leave asked—you'll see the name of the - Abbot of Trotcosey, <i>Abbas Trottocosiensis,</i> at the head of the rolls - of parliament in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries—there is - very little light here, and these cursed womankind always leave their tubs - in the passage—now take, care of the corner—ascend twelve - steps, and ye are safe!" - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0005" id="image-0005"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa026.jpg" alt="The Antiquary and Lovel--the Sanctum " - width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck had by this time attained the top of the winding stair which - led to his own apartment, and opening a door, and pushing aside a piece of - tapestry with which it was covered, his first exclamation was, "What are - you about here, you sluts?" A dirty barefooted chambermaid threw down her - duster, detected in the heinous fact of arranging the <i>sanctum - sanctorum,</i> and fled out of an opposite door from the face of her - incensed master. A genteel-looking young woman, who was superintending the - operation, stood her ground, but with some timidity. - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, uncle, your room was not fit to be seen, and I just came to see - that Jenny laid everything down where she took it up." - </p> - <p> - "And how dare you, or Jenny either, presume to meddle with my private - matters?" (Mr. Oldbuck hated <i>puttting to rights</i> as much as Dr. - Orkborne, or any other professed student.) "Go, sew your sampler, you - monkey, and do not let me find you here again, as you value your ears.—I - assure you, Mr. Lovel, that the last inroad of these pretended friends to - cleanliness was almost as fatal to my collection as Hudibras's visit to - that of Sidrophel; and I have ever since missed - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My copperplate, with almanacks - Engraved upon't and other knacks - My moon-dial, with Napier's bones, - And several constellation Stones; - My flea, my morpeon, and punaise, - I purchased for my proper ease. -</pre> - <p> - And so forth, as old Butler has it." - </p> - <p> - The young lady, after courtesying to Lovel, had taken the opportunity to - make her escape during this enumeration of losses. "You'll be poisoned - here with the volumes of dust they have raised," continued the Antiquary; - "but I assure you the dust was very ancient, peaceful, quiet dust, about - an hour ago, and would have remained so for a hundred years, had not these - gipsies disturbed it, as they do everything else in the world." - </p> - <p> - It was indeed some time before Lovel could, through the thick atmosphere, - perceive in what sort of den his friend had constructed his retreat. It - was a lofty room of middling size, obscurely lighted by high narrow - latticed windows. One end was entirely occupied by book-shelves, greatly - too limited in space for the number of volumes placed upon them, which - were, therefore, drawn up in ranks of two or three files deep, while - numberless others littered the floor and the tables, amid a chaos of maps, - engraving, scraps of parchment, bundles of papers, pieces of old armour, - swords, dirks, helmets, and Highland targets. Behind Mr. Oldbuck's seat - (which was an ancient leathern-covered easy-chair, worn smooth by constant - use) was a huge oaken cabinet, decorated at each corner with Dutch - cherubs, having their little duck-wings displayed, and great jolter-headed - visages placed between them. The top of this cabinet was covered with - busts, and Roman lamps and paterae, intermingled with one or two bronze - figures. The walls of the apartment were partly clothed with grim old - tapestry, representing the memorable story of Sir Gawaine's wedding, in - which full justice was done to the ugliness of the Lothely Lady; although, - to judge from his own looks, the gentle knight had less reason to be - disgusted with the match on account of disparity of outward favour, than - the romancer has given us to understand. The rest of the room was - panelled, or wainscotted, with black oak, against which hung two or three - portraits in armour, being characters in Scottish history, favourites of - Mr. Oldbuck, and as many in tie-wigs and laced coats, staring - representatives of his own ancestors. A large old-fashioned oaken table - was covered with a profusion of papers, parchments, books, and nondescript - trinkets and gewgaws, which seemed to have little to recommend them, - besides rust and the antiquity which it indicates. In the midst of this - wreck of ancient books and utensils, with a gravity equal to Marius among - the ruins of Carthage, sat a large black cat, which, to a superstitious - eye, might have presented the <i>genius loci,</i> the tutelar demon of the - apartment. The floor, as well as the table and chairs, was overflowed by - the same <i>mare magnum</i> of miscellaneous trumpery, where it would have - been as impossible to find any individual article wanted, as to put it to - any use when discovered. - </p> - <p> - Amid this medley, it was no easy matter to find one's way to a chair, - without stumbling over a prostrate folio, or the still more awkward - mischance of overturning some piece of Roman or ancient British pottery. - And, when the chair was attained, it had to be disencumbered, with a - careful hand, of engravings which might have received damage, and of - antique spurs and buckles, which would certainly have occasioned it to any - sudden occupant. Of this the Antiquary made Lovel particularly aware, - adding, that his friend, the Rev. Doctor Heavysterne from the Low - Countries, had sustained much injury by sitting down suddenly and - incautiously on three ancient calthrops, or <i>craw-taes,</i> which had - been lately dug up in the bog near Bannockburn, and which, dispersed by - Robert Bruce to lacerate the feet of the English chargers, came thus in - process of time to endamage the sitting part of a learned professor of - Utrecht. - </p> - <p> - Having at length fairly settled himself, and being nothing loath to make - inquiry concerning the strange objects around him, which his host was - equally ready, as far as possible, to explain, Lovel was introduced to a - large club, or bludgeon, with an iron spike at the end of it, which, it - seems, had been lately found in a field on the Monkbarns property, - adjacent to an old burying-ground. It had mightily the air of such a stick - as the Highland reapers use to walk with on their annual peregrinations - from their mountains; but Mr. Oldbuck was strongly tempted to believe, - that, as its shape was singular, it might have been one of the clubs with - which the monks armed their peasants in lieu of more martial weapons,—whence, - he observed, the villains were called <i>Colve-carles,</i> or <i>Kolb-kerls,</i> - that is, <i>Clavigeri,</i> or club-bearers. For the truth of this custom, - he quoted the chronicle of Antwerp and that of St. Martin; against which - authorities Lovel had nothing to oppose, having never heard of them till - that moment. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck next exhibited thumb-screws, which had given the Covenanters - of former days the cramp in their joints, and a collar with the name of a - fellow convicted of theft, whose services, as the inscription bore, had - been adjudged to a neighbouring baron, in lieu of the modern Scottish - punishment, which, as Oldbuck said, sends such culprits to enrich England - by their labour, and themselves by their dexterity. Many and various were - the other curiosities which he showed;—but it was chiefly upon his - books that he prided himself, repeating, with a complacent air, as he led - the way to the crowded and dusty shelves, the verses of old Chaucer— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - For he would rather have, at his bed-head, - A twenty books, clothed in black or red, - Of Aristotle, or his philosophy, - Than robes rich, rebeck, or saltery. -</pre> - <p> - This pithy motto he delivered, shaking his head, and giving each guttural - the true Anglo-Saxon enunciation, which is now forgotten in the southern - parts of this realm. - </p> - <p> - The collection was indeed a curious one, and might well be envied by an - amateur. Yet it was not collected at the enormous prices of modern times, - which are sufficient to have appalled the most determined as well as - earliest bibliomaniac upon record, whom we take to have been none else - than the renowned Don Quixote de la Mancha, as, among other slight - indications of an infirm understanding, he is stated, by his veracious - historian, Cid Hamet Benengeli, to have exchanged fields and farms for - folios and quartos of chivalry. In this species of exploit, the good - knight-errant has been imitated by lords, knights, and squires of our own - day, though we have not yet heard of any that has mistaken an inn for a - castle, or laid his lance in rest against a windmill. Mr. Oldbuck did not - follow these collectors in such excess of expenditure; but, taking a - pleasure in the personal labour of forming his library, saved his purse at - the expense of his time and toil, He was no encourager of that ingenious - race of peripatetic middle-men, who, trafficking between the obscure - keeper of a stall and the eager amateur, make their profit at once of the - ignorance of the former, and the dear-bought skill and taste of the - latter. When such were mentioned in his hearing, he seldom failed to point - out how necessary it was to arrest the object of your curiosity in its - first transit, and to tell his favourite story of Snuffy Davie and - Caxton's Game at Chess.—"Davy Wilson," he said, "commonly called - Snuffy Davy, from his inveterate addiction to black rappee, was the very - prince of scouts for searching blind alleys, cellars, and stalls for rare - volumes. He had the scent of a slow-hound, sir, and the snap of a - bull-dog. He would detect you an old black-letter ballad among the leaves - of a law-paper, and find an <i>editio princeps</i> under the mask of a - school Corderius. Snuffy Davy bought the Game of Chess, 1474, the first - book ever printed in England, from a stall in Holland, for about two - groschen, or twopence of our money. He sold it to Osborne for twenty - pounds, and as many books as came to twenty pounds more. Osborne resold - this inimitable windfall to Dr. Askew for sixty guineas. At Dr. Askew's - sale," continued the old gentleman, kindling as he spoke, "this - inestimable treasure blazed forth in its full value, and was purchased by - Royalty itself for one hundred and seventy pounds!—Could a copy now - occur, Lord only knows," he ejaculated, with a deep sigh and lifted-up - hands—"Lord only knows what would be its ransom; and yet it was - originally secured, by skill and research, for the easy equivalent of - two-pence sterling. * Happy, thrice happy, Snuffy Davie!—and blessed - were the times when thy industry could be so rewarded! - </p> - <p> - * This bibliomaniacal anecdote is literally true; and David Wilson, the - author need not tell his brethren of the Roxburghe and Bannatyne Clubs, - was a real personage. - </p> - <p> - "Even I, sir," he went on, "though far inferior in industry and - discernment and presence of mind, to that great man, can show you a few—a - very few things, which I have collected, not by force of money, as any - wealthy man might,—although, as my friend Lucian says, he might - chance to throw away his coin only to illustrate his ignorance,—but - gained in a manner that shows I know something of the matter. See this - bundle of ballads, not one of them later than 1700, and some of them an - hundred years older. I wheedled an old woman out of these, who loved them - better than her psalm-book. Tobacco, sir, snuff, and the Complete Syren, - were the equivalent! For that, mutilated copy of the Complaynt of - Scotland, I sat out the drinking of two dozen bottles of strong ale with - the late learned proprietor, who, in gratitude, bequeathed it to me by his - last will. These little Elzevirs are the memoranda and trophies of many a - walk by night and morning through the Cowgate, the Canongate, the Bow, St. - Mary's Wynd,—wherever, in fine, there were to be found brokers and - trokers, those miscellaneous dealers in things rare and curious. How often - have I stood haggling on a halfpenny, lest, by a too ready acquiescence in - the dealer's first price, he should be led to suspect the value I set upon - the article!—how have I trembled, lest some passing stranger should - chop in between me and the prize, and regarded each poor student of - divinity that stopped to turn over the books at the stall, as a rival - amateur, or prowling bookseller in disguise!—And then, Mr. Lovel, - the sly satisfaction with which one pays the consideration, and pockets - the article, affecting a cold indifference, while the hand is trembling - with pleasure!—Then to dazzle the eyes of our wealthier and emulous - rivals by showing them such a treasure as this" (displaying a little black - smoked book about the size of a primer); "to enjoy their surprise and - envy, shrouding meanwhile, under a veil of mysterious consciousness, our - own superior knowledge and dexterity these, my young friend, these are the - white moments of life, that repay the toil, and pains, and sedulous - attention, which our profession, above all others, so peculiarly demands!" - </p> - <p> - Lovel was not a little amused at hearing the old gentleman run on in this - manner, and, however incapable of entering into the full merits of what he - beheld, he admired, as much as could have been expected, the various - treasures which Oldbuck exhibited. Here were editions esteemed as being - the first, and there stood those scarcely less regarded as being the last - and best; here was a book valued because it had the author's final - improvements, and there another which (strange to tell!) was in request - because it had them not. One was precious because it was a folio, another - because it was a duodecimo; some because they were tall, some because they - were short; the merit of this lay in the title-page—of that in the - arrangement of the letters in the word Finis. There was, it seemed, no - peculiar distinction, however trifling or minute, which might not give - value to a volume, providing the indispensable quality of scarcity, or - rare occurrence, was attached to it. - </p> - <p> - Not the least fascinating was the original broadside,—the Dying - Speech, Bloody Murder, or Wonderful Wonder of Wonders,—in its - primary tattered guise, as it was hawked through the streets, and sold for - the cheap and easy price of one penny, though now worth the weight of that - penny in gold. On these the Antiquary dilated with transport, and read, - with a rapturous voice, the elaborate titles, which bore the same - proportion to the contents that the painted signs without a showman's - booth do to the animals within. Mr. Oldbuck, for example, piqued himself - especially in possessing an <i>unique</i> broadside, entitled and called - "Strange and Wonderful News from Chipping-Norton, in the County of Oxon, - of certain dreadful Apparitions which were seen in the Air on the 26th of - July 1610, at Half an Hour after Nine o'Clock at Noon, and continued till - Eleven, in which Time was seen Appearances of several flaming Swords, - strange Motions of the superior Orbs; with the unusual Sparkling of the - Stars, with their dreadful Continuations; With the Account of the Opening - of the Heavens, and strange Appearances therein disclosing themselves, - with several other prodigious Circumstances not heard of in any Age, to - the great Amazement of the Beholders, as it was communicated in a Letter - to one Mr. Colley, living in West Smithfield, and attested by Thomas - Brown, Elizabeth Greenaway, and Anne Gutheridge, who were Spectators of - the dreadful Apparitions: And if any one would be further satisfied of the - Truth of this Relation, let them repair to Mr. Nightingale's at the Bear - Inn, in West Smithfield, and they may be satisfied."* - </p> - <p> - * Of this thrice and four times rare broadside, the author possesses an - exemplar. - </p> - <p> - "You laugh at this," said the proprietor of the collection, "and I forgive - you. I do acknowledge that the charms on which we doat are not so obvious - to the eyes of youth as those of a fair lady; but you will grow wiser, and - see more justly, when you come to wear spectacles.—Yet stay, I have - one piece of antiquity, which you, perhaps, will prize more highly." - </p> - <p> - So saying, Mr. Oldbuck unlocked a drawer, and took out a bundle of keys, - then pulled aside a piece of the tapestry which concealed the door of a - small closet, into which he descended by four stone steps, and, after some - tinkling among bottles and cans, produced two long-stalked wine-glasses - with bell mouths, such as are seen in Teniers' pieces, and a small bottle - of what he called rich racy canary, with a little bit of diet cake, on a - small silver server of exquisite old workmanship. "I will say nothing of - the server," he remarked, "though it is said to have been wrought by the - old mad Florentine, Benvenuto Cellini. But, Mr. Lovel, our ancestors drank - sack—you, who admire the drama, know where that's to be found.—Here's - success to your exertions at Fairport, sir!" - </p> - <p> - "And to you, sir, and an ample increase to your treasure, with no more - trouble on your part than is just necessary to make the acquisitions - valuable." - </p> - <p> - After a libation so suitable to the amusement in which they had been - engaged, Lovel rose to take his leave, and Mr. Oldbuck prepared to give - him his company a part of the way, and show him something worthy of his - curiosity on his return to Fairport. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FOURTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The pawkie auld carle cam ower the lea, - Wi' mony good-e'ens and good-morrows to me, - Saying, Kind Sir, for your courtesy, - Will ye lodge a silly puir man? - The Gaberlunzie Man. -</pre> - <p> - Our two friends moved through a little orchard, where the aged - apple-trees, well loaded with fruit, showed, as is usual in the - neighbourhood of monastic buildings, that the days of the monks had not - always been spent in indolence, but often dedicated to horticulture and - gardening. Mr. Oldbuck failed not to make Lovel remark, that the planters - of those days were possessed of the modern secret of preventing the roots - of the fruit-trees from penetrating the till, and compelling them to - spread in a lateral direction, by placing paving-stones beneath the trees - when first planted, so as to interpose between their fibres and the - subsoil. "This old fellow," he said, "which was blown down last summer, - and still, though half reclined on the ground, is covered with fruit, has - been, as you may see, accommodated with such a barrier between his roots - and the unkindly till. That other tree has a story:—the fruit is - called the Abbot's Apple; the lady of a neighbouring baron was so fond of - it, that she would often pay a visit to Monkbarns, to have the pleasure of - gathering it from the tree. The husband, a jealous man, belike, suspected - that a taste so nearly resembling that of Mother Eve prognosticated a - similar fall. As the honour of a noble family is concerned, I will say no - more on the subject, only that the lands of Lochard and Cringlecut still - pay a fine of six bolls of barley annually, to atone the guilt of their - audacious owner, who intruded himself and his worldly suspicions upon the - seclusion of the Abbot and his penitent.—Admire the little belfry - rising above the ivy-mantled porch—there was here a <i>hospitium, - hospitale,</i> or <i>hospitamentum</i> (for it is written all these - various ways in the old writings and evidents), in which the monks - received pilgrims. I know our minister has said, in the Statistical - Account, that the <i>hospitium</i> was situated either in the lands of - Haltweary or upon those of Half-starvet; but he is incorrect, Mr. Lovel—that - is the gate called still the Palmer's Port, and my gardener found many - hewn stones, when he was trenching the ground for winter celery, several - of which I have sent as specimens to my learned friends, and to the - various antiquarian societies of which I am an unworthy member. But I will - say no more at present; I reserve something for another visit, and we have - an object of real curiosity before us." - </p> - <p> - While he was thus speaking, he led the way briskly through one or two rich - pasture-meadows, to an open heath or common, and so to the top of a gentle - eminence. "Here," he said, "Mr. Lovel, is a truly remarkable spot." - </p> - <p> - "It commands a fine view," said his companion, looking around him. - </p> - <p> - "True: but it is not for the prospect I brought you hither; do you see - nothing else remarkable?—nothing on the surface of the ground?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, yes; I do see something like a ditch, indistinctly marked." - </p> - <p> - "Indistinctly!—pardon me, sir, but the indistinctness must be in - your powers of vision. Nothing can be more plainly traced—a proper - <i>agger</i> or <i>vallum,</i> with its corresponding ditch or <i>fossa.</i> - Indistinctly! why, Heaven help you, the lassie, my niece, as light-headed - a goose as womankind affords, saw the traces of the ditch at once. - Indistinct!—why, the great station at Ardoch, or that at Burnswark - in Annandale, may be clearer, doubtless, because they are stative forts, - whereas this was only an occasional encampment. Indistinct!—why, you - must suppose that fools, boors, and idiots, have ploughed up the land, - and, like beasts and ignorant savages, have thereby obliterated two sides - of the square, and greatly injured the third; but you see, yourself, the - fourth side is quite entire!" - </p> - <p> - Lovel endeavoured to apologize, and to explain away his ill-timed phrase, - and pleaded his inexperience. But he was not at once quite successful. His - first expression had come too frankly and naturally not to alarm the - Antiquary, and he could not easily get over the shock it had given him. - </p> - <p> - "My dear sir," continued the senior, "your eyes are not inexperienced: you - know a ditch from level ground, I presume, when you see them? Indistinct! - why, the very common people, the very least boy that can herd a cow, calls - it the Kaim of Kinprunes; and if that does not imply an ancient camp, I am - ignorant what does." - </p> - <p> - Lovel having again acquiesced, and at length lulled to sleep the irritated - and suspicious vanity of the Antiquary, he proceeded in his task of - cicerone. "You must know," he said, "our Scottish antiquaries have been - greatly divided about the local situation of the final conflict between - Agricola and the Caledonians; some contend for Ardoch in Strathallan, some - for Innerpeffry, some for the Raedykes in the Mearns, and some are for - carrying the scene of action as far north as Blair in Athole. Now, after - all this discussion," continued the old gentleman, with one of his slyest - and most complacent looks, "what would you think, Mr. Lovel,—I say, - what would you think,—if the memorable scene of conflict should - happen to be on the very spot called the Kaim of Kinprunes, the property - of the obscure and humble individual who now speaks to you?" Then, having - paused a little, to suffer his guest to digest a communication so - important, he resumed his disquisition in a higher tone. "Yes, my good - friend, I am indeed greatly deceived if this place does not correspond - with all the marks of that celebrated place of action. It was near to the - Grampian mountains—lo! yonder they are, mixing and contending with - the sky on the skirts of the horizon! It was <i>in conspectu classis</i>—in - sight of the Roman fleet; and would any admiral, Roman or British, wish a - fairer bay to ride in than that on your right hand? It is astonishing how - blind we professed antiquaries sometimes are! Sir Robert Sibbald, Saunders - Gordon, General Roy, Dr. Stokely,—why, it escaped all of them. I was - unwilling to say a word about it till I had secured the ground, for it - belonged to auld Johnnie Howie, a bonnet-laird* hard by, and many a - communing we had before he and I could agree. - </p> - <p> - * A bonnet-laird signifies a petty proprietor, wearing the dress, along - with the habits of a yeoman. - </p> - <p> - At length—I am almost ashamed to say it—but I even brought my - mind to give acre for acre of my good corn-land for this barren spot. But - then it was a national concern; and when the scene of so celebrated an - event became my own, I was overpaid.—Whose patriotism would not grow - warmer, as old Johnson says, on the plains of Marathon? I began to trench - the ground, to see what might be discovered; and the third day, sir, we - found a stone, which I have transported to Monkbarns, in order to have the - sculpture taken off with plaster of Paris; it bears a sacrificing vessel, - and the letters A. D. L. L. which may stand, without much violence, for <i>Agricola - Dicavit Libens Lubens.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly, sir; for the Dutch Antiquaries claim Caligula as the founder - of a light-house, on the sole authority of the letters C. C. P. F., which - they interpret <i>Caius Caligula Pharum Fecit.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "True, and it has ever been recorded as a sound exposition. I see we shall - make something of you even before you wear spectacles, notwithstanding you - thought the traces of this beautiful camp indistinct when you first - observed them." - </p> - <p> - "In time, sir, and by good instruction"— - </p> - <p> - "—You will become more apt—I doubt it not. You shall peruse, - upon your next visit to Monkbarns, my trivial Essay upon Castrametation, - with some particular Remarks upon the Vestiges of Ancient Fortifications - lately discovered by the Author at the Kaim of Kinprunes. I think I have - pointed out the infallible touchstone of supposed antiquity. I premise a - few general rules on that point, on the nature, namely, of the evidence to - be received in such cases. Meanwhile be pleased to observe, for example, - that I could press into my service Claudian's famous line, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ille Caledoniis posuit qui castra pruinis. -</pre> - <p> - For <i>pruinis,</i> though interpreted to mean <i>hoar frosts,</i> to - which I own we are somewhat subject in this north-eastern sea-coast, may - also signify a locality, namely, <i>Prunes;</i> the <i>Castra Pruinis - posita</i> would therefore be the Kaim of Kinprunes. But I waive this, for - I am sensible it might be laid hold of by cavillers as carrying down my - Castra to the time of Theodosius, sent by Valentinian into Britain as late - as the year 367, or thereabout. No, my good friend, I appeal to people's - eye-sight. Is not here the Decuman gate? and there, but for the ravage of - the horrid plough, as a learned friend calls it, would be the Praetorian - gate. On the left hand you may see some slight vestiges of the <i>porta - sinistra,</i> and on the right, one side of the <i>porta dextra</i> - wellnigh entire. Here, then, let us take our stand, on this tumulus, - exhibiting the foundation of ruined buildings,—the central point—the - <i>praetorium,</i> doubtless, of the camp. From this place, now scarce to - be distinguished but by its slight elevation and its greener turf from the - rest of the fortification, we may suppose Agricola to have looked forth on - the immense army of Caledonians, occupying the declivities of yon opposite - hill,—the infantry rising rank over rank, as the form of ground - displayed their array to its utmost advantage,—the cavalry and <i>covinarii,</i> - by which I understand the charioteers—another guise of folks from - your Bond-street four-in-hand men, I trow—scouring the more level - space below— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —See, then, Lovel—See— - See that huge battle moving from the mountains! - Their gilt coats shine like dragon scales;—their march - Like a rough tumbling storm.—See them, and view them, - And then see Rome no more!— -</pre> - <p> - Yes, my dear friend, from this stance it is probable—nay, it is - nearly certain, that Julius Agricola beheld what our Beaumont has so - admirably described!—From this very Praetorium"— - </p> - <p> - A voice from behind interrupted his ecstatic description—"Praetorian - here, Praetorian there, I mind the bigging o't." - </p> - <p> - Both at once turned round, Lovel with surprise, and Oldbuck with mingled - surprise and indignation, at so uncivil an interruption. An auditor had - stolen upon them, unseen and unheard, amid the energy of the Antiquary's - enthusiastic declamation, and the attentive civility of Lovel. He had the - exterior appearance of a mendicant. A slouched hat of huge dimensions; a - long white beard which mingled with his grizzled hair; an aged but - strongly marked and expressive countenance, hardened, by climate and - exposure, to a right brick-dust complexion; a long blue gown, with a - pewter badge on the right arm; two or three wallets, or bags, slung across - his shoulder, for holding the different kinds of meal, when he received - his charity in kind from those who were but a degree richer than himself:—all - these marked at once a beggar by profession, and one of that privileged - class which are called in Scotland the King's Bedesmen, or, vulgarly, - Blue-Gowns. - </p> - <p> - "What is that you say, Edie?" said Oldbuck, hoping, perhaps, that his ears - had betrayed their duty—"what were you speaking about!" - </p> - <p> - "About this bit bourock, your honour," answered the undaunted Edie; "I - mind the bigging o't." - </p> - <p> - "The devil you do! Why, you old fool, it was here before you were born, - and will be after you are hanged, man!" - </p> - <p> - "Hanged or drowned, here or awa, dead or alive, I mind the bigging o't." - </p> - <p> - "You—you—you—," said the Antiquary, stammering between - confusion and anger, "you strolling old vagabond, what the devil do you - know about it?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, I ken this about it, Monkbarns—and what profit have I for - telling ye a lie?—l just ken this about it, that about twenty years - syne, I, and a wheen hallenshakers like mysell, and the mason-lads that - built the lang dike that gaes down the loaning, and twa or three herds - maybe, just set to wark, and built this bit thing here that ye ca' the—the—Praetorian, - and a' just for a bield at auld Aiken Drum's bridal, and a bit blithe - gae-down wi' had in't, some sair rainy weather. Mair by token, Monkbarns, - if ye howk up the bourock, as ye seem to have began, yell find, if ye hae - not fund it already, a stane that ane o' the mason-callants cut a ladle on - to have a bourd at the bridegroom, and he put four letters on't, that's A. - D. L. L.—Aiken Drum's Lang Ladle—for Aiken was ane o' the - kale-suppers o' Fife." - </p> - <p> - "This," thought Lovel to himself, "is a famous counterpart to the story of - <i>Keip on this syde.</i>" He then ventured to steal a glance at our - Antiquary, but quickly withdrew it in sheer compassion. For, gentle - reader, if thou hast ever beheld the visage of a damsel of sixteen, whose - romance of true love has been blown up by an untimely discovery, or of a - child of ten years, whose castle of cards has been blown down by a - malicious companion, I can safely aver to you, that Jonathan Oldbuck of - Monkbarns looked neither more wise nor less disconcerted. - </p> - <p> - "There is some mistake about this," he said, abruptly turning away from - the mendicant. - </p> - <p> - "Deil a bit on my side o' the wa'," answered the sturdy beggar; "I never - deal in mistakes, they aye bring mischances.—Now, Monkbarns, that - young gentleman, that's wi' your honour, thinks little of a carle like me; - and yet, I'll wager I'll tell him whar he was yestreen at the gloamin, - only he maybe wadna like to hae't spoken o' in company." - </p> - <p> - Lovel's soul rushed to his cheeks, with the vivid blush of two-and-twenty. - </p> - <p> - "Never mind the old rogue," said Mr. Oldbuck; "don't suppose I think the - worse of you for your profession; they are only prejudiced fools and - coxcombs that do so. You remember what old Tully says in his oration, <i>pro - Archia poeta,</i> concerning one of your confraternity—<i>quis - nostrum tam anino agresti ac duro fuit—ut—ut</i>—I - forget the Latin—the meaning is, which of us was so rude and - barbarous as to remain unmoved at the death of the great Roscius, whose - advanced age was so far from preparing us for his death, that we rather - hoped one so graceful, so excellent in his art, ought to be exempted from - the common lot of mortality? So the Prince of Orators spoke of the stage - and its professor." - </p> - <p> - The words of the old man fell upon Lovel's ears, but without conveying any - precise idea to his mind, which was then occupied in thinking by what - means the old beggar, who still continued to regard him with a countenance - provokingly sly and intelligent, had contrived to thrust himself into any - knowledge of his affairs. He put his hand in his pocket as the readiest - mode of intimating his desire of secrecy, and securing the concurrence of - the person whom he addressed; and while he bestowed on him an alms, the - amount of which rather bore proportion to his fears than to his charity, - looked at him with a marked expression, which the mendicant, a - physiognomist by profession, seemed perfectly to understand.—"Never - mind me, sir—I am no tale-pyet; but there are mair een in the warld - than mine," answered he as he pocketed Lovel's bounty, but in a tone to be - heard by him alone, and with an expression which amply filled up what was - left unspoken. Then turning to Oldbuck—"I am awa' to the manse, your - honour. Has your honour ony word there, or to Sir Arthur, for I'll come in - by Knockwinnock Castle again e'en?" - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck started as from a dream; and, in a hurried tone, where vexation - strove with a wish to conceal it, paying, at the same time, a tribute to - Edie's smooth, greasy, unlined hat, he said, "Go down, go down to - Monkbarns—let them give you some dinner—Or stay; if you do go - to the manse, or to Knockwinnock, ye need say nothing about that foolish - story of yours." - </p> - <p> - "Who, I?" said the mendicant—"Lord bless your honour, naebody sall - ken a word about it frae me, mair than if the bit bourock had been there - since Noah's flood. But, Lord, they tell me your honour has gien Johnnie - Howie acre for acre of the laigh crofts for this heathery knowe! Now, if - he has really imposed the bourock on ye for an ancient wark, it's my real - opinion the bargain will never haud gude, if you would just bring down - your heart to try it at the law, and say that he beguiled ye." - </p> - <p> - "Provoking scoundrel!" muttered the indignant Antiquary between his teeths—"I'll - have the hangman's lash and his back acquainted for this." And then, in a - louder tone,—"Never mind, Edie—it is all a mistake." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, I am thinking sae," continued his tormentor, who seemed to have - pleasure in rubbing the galled wound, "troth, I aye thought sae; and it's - no sae lang since I said to Luckie Gemmers, Never think you, luckie' said - I, that his honour Monkbarns would hae done sic a daft-like thing as to - gie grund weel worth fifty shillings an acre, for a mailing that would be - dear o'a pund Scots. Na, na,' quo' I, depend upon't the lard's been - imposed upon wi that wily do-little deevil, Johnnie Howie.' But Lord haud - a care o' us, sirs, how can that be,' quo' she again, when the laird's sae - book-learned, there's no the like o' him in the country side, and Johnnie - Howie has hardly sense eneugh to ca' the cows out o' his kale-yard?' - Aweel, aweel,' quo' I, but ye'll hear he's circumvented him with some of - his auld-warld stories,'—for ye ken, laird, yon other time about the - bodle that ye thought was an auld coin"— - </p> - <p> - "Go to the devil!" said Oldbuck; and then in a more mild tone, as one that - was conscious his reputation lay at the mercy of his antagonist, he added—"Away - with you down to Monkbarns, and when I come back, I'll send ye a bottle of - ale to the kitchen." - </p> - <p> - "Heaven reward your honour!" This was uttered with the true mendicant - whine, as, setting his pike-staff before him, he began to move in the - direction of Monkbarns.—"But did your honour," turning round, "ever - get back the siller ye gae to the travelling packman for the bodle?" - </p> - <p> - "Curse thee, go about thy business!" - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, aweel, sir, God bless your honour! I hope ye'll ding Johnnie Howie - yet, and that I'll live to see it." And so saying, the old beggar moved - off, relieving Mr. Oldbuck of recollections which were anything rather - than agreeable. - </p> - <p> - "Who is this familiar old gentleman?" said Lovel, when the mendicant was - out of hearing. - </p> - <p> - "O, one of the plagues of the country—I have been always against - poor's-rates and a work-house—I think I'll vote for them now, to - have that scoundrel shut up. O, your old-remembered guest of a beggar - becomes as well acquainted with you as he is with his dish—as - intimate as one of the beasts familiar to man which signify love, and with - which his own trade is especially conversant. Who is he?—why, he has - gone the vole— has been soldier, ballad-singer, travelling tinker, - and is now a beggar. He is spoiled by our foolish gentry, who laugh at his - jokes, and rehearse Edie Ochiltree's good thing's as regularly as Joe - Miller's." - </p> - <p> - "Why, he uses freedom apparently, which is the soul of wit," answered - Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "O ay, freedom enough," said the Antiquary; "he generally invents some - damned improbable lie or another to provoke you, like that nonsense he - talked just now—not that I'll publish my tract till I have examined - the thing to the bottom." - </p> - <p> - "In England," said Lovel, "such a mendicant would get a speedy check." - </p> - <p> - "Yes, your churchwardens and dog-whips would make slender allowance for - his vein of humour! But here, curse him! he is a sort of privileged - nuisance—one of the last specimens of the old fashioned Scottish - mendicant, who kept his rounds within a particular space, and was the - news-carrier, the minstrel, and sometimes the historian of the district. - That rascal, now, knows more old ballads and traditions than any other man - in this and the four next parishes. And after all," continued he, - softening as he went on describing Edie's good gifts, "the dog has some - good humour. He has borne his hard fate with unbroken spirits, and it's - cruel to deny him the comfort of a laugh at his betters. The pleasure of - having quizzed me, as you gay folk would call it, will be meat and drink - to him for a day or two. But I must go back and look after him, or he will - spread his d—d nonsensical story over half the country."* - </p> - <p> - * Note C. Praetorium. - </p> - <p> - So saying our heroes parted, Mr. Oldbuck to return to his <i>hospitium</i> - at Monkbarns, and Lovel to pursue his way to Fairport, where he arrived - without farther adventure. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FIFTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - <i>Launcelot Gobbo.</i> Mark me now: - Now will I raise the waters. - Merchant of Venice. -</pre> - <p> - The theatre at Fairport had opened, but no Mr. Lovel appeared on the - boards, nor was there anything in the habits or deportment of the young - gentleman so named, which authorised Mr. Oldbuck's conjecture that his - fellow-traveller was a candidate for the public favour. Regular were the - Antiquary's inquiries at an old-fashioned barber who dressed the only - three wigs in the parish which, in defiance of taxes and times, were still - subjected to the operation of powdering and frizzling, and who for that - purpose divided his time among the three employers whom fashion had yet - left him; regular, I say, were Mr. Oldbuck's inquiries at this personage - concerning the news of the little theatre at Fairport, expecting every day - to hear of Mr. Lovel's appearance; on which occasion the old gentleman had - determined to put himself to charges in honour of his young friend, and - not only to go to the play himself, but to carry his womankind along with - him. But old Jacob Caxon conveyed no information which warranted his - taking so decisive a step as that of securing a box. - </p> - <p> - He brought information, on the contrary, that there was a young man - residing at Fairport, of whom the <i>town</i> (by which he meant all the - gossips, who, having no business of their own, fill up their leisure - moments by attending to that of other people) could make nothing. He - sought no society, but rather avoided that which the apparent gentleness - of his manners, and some degree of curiosity, induced many to offer him. - Nothing could be more regular, or less resembling an adventurer, than his - mode of living, which was simple, but so completely well arranged, that - all who had any transactions with him were loud in their approbation. - </p> - <p> - "These are not the virtues of a stage-struck hero," thought Oldbuck to - himself; and, however habitually pertinacious in his opinions, he must - have been compelled to abandon that which he had formed in the present - instance, but for a part of Caxon's communication. "The young gentleman," - he said, "was sometimes heard speaking to himsell, and rampauging about in - his room, just as if he was ane o' the player folk." - </p> - <p> - Nothing, however, excepting this single circumstance, occurred to confirm - Mr. Oldbuck's supposition; and it remained a high and doubtful question, - what a well-informed young man, without friends, connections, or - employment of any kind, could have to do as a resident at Fairport. - Neither port wine nor whist had apparently any charms for him. He declined - dining with the mess of the volunteer cohort which had been lately - embodied, and shunned joining the convivialities of either of the two - parties which then divided Fairport, as they did more important places. He - was too little of an aristocrat to join the club of Royal True Blues, and - too little of a democrat to fraternise with an affiliated society of the - <i>soi-disant</i> Friends of the People, which the borough had also the - happiness of possessing. A coffee-room was his detestation; and, I grieve - to say it, he had as few sympathies with the tea-table.—In short, - since the name was fashionable in novel-writing, and that is a great while - agone, there was never a Master Lovel of whom so little positive was - known, and who was so universally described by negatives. - </p> - <p> - One negative, however, was important—nobody knew any harm of Lovel. - Indeed, had such existed, it would have been speedily made public; for the - natural desire of speaking evil of our neighbour could in his case have - been checked by no feelings of sympathy for a being so unsocial. On one - account alone he fell somewhat under suspicion. As he made free use of his - pencil in his solitary walks, and had drawn several views of the harbour, - in which the signal tower, and even the four-gun battery, were introduced, - some zealous friends of the public sent abroad a whisper, that this - mysterious stranger must certainly be a French spy. The Sheriff paid his - respects to Mr. Lovel accordingly; but in the interview which followed, it - would seem that he had entirely removed that magistrate's suspicions, - since he not only suffered him to remain undisturbed in his retirement, - but it was credibly reported, sent him two invitations to dinner-parties, - both which were civilly declined. But what the nature of the explanation - was, the magistrate kept a profound secret, not only from the public at - large, but from his substitute, his clerk, his wife and his two daughters, - who formed his privy council on all questions of official duty. - </p> - <p> - All these particulars being faithfully reported by Mr. Caxon to his patron - at Monkbarns, tended much to raise Lovel in the opinion of his former - fellow-traveller. "A decent sensible lad," said he to himself, "who scorns - to enter into the fooleries and nonsense of these idiot people at Fairport—I - must do something for him—I must give him a dinner;—and I will - write Sir Arthur to come to Monkbarns to meet him. I must consult my - womankind." - </p> - <p> - Accordingly, such consultation having been previously held, a special - messenger, being no other than Caxon himself, was ordered to prepare for a - walk to Knockwinnock Castle with a letter, "For the honoured Sir Arthur - Wardour, of Knockwinnock, Bart." The contents ran thus: - </p> - <p> - "Dear Sir Arthur, - </p> - <p> - "On Tuesday the 17th curt. <i>stilo novo,</i> I hold a coenobitical - symposion at Monkbarns, and pray you to assist thereat, at four o'clock - precisely. If my fair enemy, Miss Isabel, can and will honour us by - accompanying you, my womankind will be but too proud to have the aid of - such an auxiliary in the cause of resistance to awful rule and right - supremacy. If not, I will send the womankind to the manse for the day. I - have a young acquaintance to make known to you, who is touched with some - strain of a better spirit than belongs to these giddy-paced times—reveres - his elders, and has a pretty notion of the classics—and, as such a - youth must have a natural contempt for the people about Fairport, I wish - to show him some rational as well as worshipful society.—I am, Dear - Sir Arthur, etc. etc. etc." - </p> - <p> - "Fly with this letter, Caxon," said the senior, holding out his missive, - <i>signatum atque sigillatum,</i> "fly to Knockwinnock, and bring me back - an answer. Go as fast as if the town-council were met and waiting for the - provost, and the provost was waiting for his new-powdered wig." - </p> - <p> - "Ah sir," answered the messenger, with a deep sigh, "thae days hae lang - gane by. Deil a wig has a provost of Fairport worn sin' auld Provost - Jervie's time—and he had a quean of a servant-lass that dressed it - herself, wi' the doup o' a candle and a drudging-box. But I hae seen the - day, Monkbarns, when the town-council of Fairport wad hae as soon wanted - their town-clerk, or their gill of brandy ower-head after the haddies, as - they wad hae wanted ilk ane a weel-favoured, sonsy, decent periwig on his - pow. Hegh, sirs! nae wonder the commons will be discontent and rise - against the law, when they see magistrates and bailies, and deacons, and - the provost himsell, wi' heads as bald and as bare as ane o' my blocks!" - </p> - <p> - "And as well furnished within, Caxon. But away with you!—you have an - excellent view of public affairs, and, I dare say, have touched the cause - of our popular discontent as closely as the provost could have done - himself. But away with you, Caxon!" - </p> - <p> - And off went Caxon upon his walk of three miles— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - He hobbled—but his heart was good! - Could he go faster than he could?— -</pre> - <p> - While he is engaged in his journey and return, it may not be impertinent - to inform the reader to whose mansion he was bearing his embassy. - </p> - <p> - We have said that Mr. Oldbuck kept little company with the surrounding - gentlemen, excepting with one person only. This was Sir Arthur Wardour, a - baronet of ancient descent, and of a large but embarrassed fortune. His - father, Sir Anthony, had been a Jacobite, and had displayed all the - enthusiasm of that party, while it could be served with words only. No man - squeezed the orange with more significant gesture; no one could more - dexterously intimate a dangerous health without coming under the penal - statutes; and, above all, none drank success to the cause more deeply and - devoutly. But, on the approach of the Highland army in 1745, it would - appear that the worthy baronet's zeal became a little more moderate just - when its warmth was of most consequence. He talked much, indeed, of taking - the field for the rights of Scotland and Charles Stuart; but his - demi-pique saddle would suit only one of his horses; and that horse could - by no means be brought to stand fire. Perhaps the worshipful owner - sympathized in the scruples of this sagacious quadruped, and began to - think, that what was so much dreaded by the horse could not be very - wholesome for the rider. At any rate, while Sir Anthony Wardour talked, - and drank, and hesitated, the Sturdy provost of Fairport (who, as we - before noticed, was the father of our Antiquary) sallied from his ancient - burgh, heading a body of whig-burghers, and seized at once, in the name of - George II., upon the Castle of Knockwinnock, and on the four - carriage-horses, and person of the proprietor. Sir Anthony was shortly - after sent off to the Tower of London by a secretary of state's warrant, - and with him went his son, Arthur, then a youth. But as nothing appeared - like an overt act of treason, both father and son were soon set at - liberty, and returned to their own mansion of Knockwinnock, to drink - healths five fathoms deep, and talk of their sufferings in the royal - cause. This became so much a matter of habit with Sir Arthur, that, even - after his father's death, the non-juring chaplain used to pray regularly - for the restoration of the rightful sovereign, for the downfall of the - usurper, and for deliverance from their cruel and bloodthirsty enemies; - although all idea of serious opposition to the House of Hanover had long - mouldered away, and this treasonable liturgy was kept up rather as a - matter of form than as conveying any distinct meaning. So much was this - the case, that, about the year 1770, upon a disputed election occurring in - the county, the worthy knight fairly gulped down the oaths of abjuration - and allegiance, in order to serve a candidate in whom he was interested;—thus - renouncing the heir for whose restoration he weekly petitioned Heaven, and - acknowledging the usurper whose dethronement he had never ceased to pray - for. And to add to this melancholy instance of human inconsistency, Sir - Arthur continued to pray for the House of Stuart even after the family had - been extinct, and when, in truth, though in his theoretical loyalty he was - pleased to regard them as alive, yet, in all actual service and practical - exertion, he was a most zealous and devoted subject of George III. - </p> - <p> - In other respects, Sir Arthur Wardour lived like most country gentlemen in - Scotland, hunted and fished—gave and received dinners—attended - races and county meetings—was a deputy-lieutenant and trustee upon - turnpike acts. But, in his more advanced years, as he became too lazy or - unwieldy for field-sports, he supplied them by now and then reading - Scottish history; and, having gradually acquired a taste for antiquities, - though neither very deep nor very correct, he became a crony of his - neighbour, Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns, and a joint-labourer with him in his - antiquarian pursuits. - </p> - <p> - There were, however, points of difference between these two humourists, - which sometimes occasioned discord. The faith of Sir Arthur, as an - antiquary, was boundless, and Mr. Oldbuck (notwithstanding the affair of - the Praetorium at the Kaim of Kinprunes) was much more scrupulous in - receiving legends as current and authentic coin. Sir Arthur would have - deemed himself guilty of the crime of leze-majesty had he doubted the - existence of any single individual of that formidable head-roll of one - hundred and four kings of Scotland, received by Boethius, and rendered - classical by Buchanan, in virtue of whom James VI. claimed to rule his - ancient kingdom, and whose portraits still frown grimly upon the walls of - the gallery of Holyrood. Now Oldbuck, a shrewd and suspicious man, and no - respecter of divine hereditary right, was apt to cavil at this sacred - list, and to affirm, that the procession of the posterity of Fergus - through the pages of Scottish history, was as vain and unsubstantial as - the gleamy pageant of the descendants of Banquo through the cavern of - Hecate. - </p> - <p> - Another tender topic was the good fame of Queen Mary, of which the knight - was a most chivalrous assertor, while the esquire impugned it, in spite - both of her beauty and misfortunes. When, unhappily, their conversation - turned on yet later times, motives of discord occurred in almost every - page of history. Oldbuck was, upon principle, a staunch Presbyterian, a - ruling elder of the kirk, and a friend to revolution principles and - Protestant succession, while Sir Arthur was the very reverse of all this. - They agreed, it is true, in dutiful love and allegiance to the sovereign - who now fills* the throne; but this was their only point of union. - </p> - <p> - * The reader will understand that this refers to the reign of our late - gracious Sovereign, George the Third. - </p> - <p> - It therefore often happened, that bickerings hot broke out between them, - in which Oldbuck was not always able to suppress his caustic humour, while - it would sometimes occur to the Baronet that the descendant of a German - printer, whose sires had "sought the base fellowship of paltry burghers," - forgot himself, and took an unlicensed freedom of debate, considering the - rank and ancient descent of his antagonist. This, with the old feud of the - coach-horses, and the seizure of his manor-place and tower of strength by - Mr. Oldbuck's father, would at times rush upon his mind, and inflame at - once his cheeks and his arguments. And, lastly, as Mr. Oldbuck thought his - worthy friend and compeer was in some respects little better than a fool, - he was apt to come more near communicating to him that unfavourable - opinion, than the rules of modern politeness warrant. In such cases they - often parted in deep dudgeon, and with something like a resolution to - forbear each other's company in future: - </p> - <p> - But with the morning calm reflection came; and as each was sensible that - the society of the other had become, through habit, essential to his - comfort, the breach was speedily made up between them. On such occasions, - Oldbuck, considering that the Baronet's pettishness resembled that of a - child, usually showed his superior sense by compassionately making the - first advances to reconciliation. But it once or twice happened that the - aristocratic pride of the far-descended knight took a flight too offensive - to the feelings of the representative of the typographer. In these cases, - the breach between these two originals might have been immortal, but for - the kind exertion and interposition of the Baronet's daughter, Miss - Isabella Wardour, who, with a son, now absent upon foreign and military - service, formed his whole surviving family. She was well aware how - necessary Mr. Oldbuck was to her father's amusement and comfort, and - seldom failed to interpose with effect, when the office of a mediator - between them was rendered necessary by the satirical shrewdness of the - one, or the assumed superiority of the other. Under Isabella's mild - influence, the wrongs of Queen Mary were forgotten by her father, and Mr. - Oldbuck forgave the blasphemy which reviled the memory of King William. - However, as she used in general to take her father's part playfully in - these disputes, Oldbuck was wont to call Isabella his fair enemy, though - in fact he made more account of her than any other of her sex, of whom, as - we have seen, he, was no admirer. - </p> - <p> - There existed another connection betwixt these worthies, which had - alternately a repelling and attractive influence upon their intimacy. Sir - Arthur always wished to borrow; Mr. Oldbuck was not always willing to - lend. Mr. Oldbuck, per contra, always wished to be repaid with regularity; - Sir Arthur was not always, nor indeed often, prepared to gratify this - reasonable desire; and, in accomplishing an arrangement between tendencies - so opposite, little <i>miffs</i> would occasionally take place. Still - there was a spirit of mutual accommodation upon the whole, and they - dragged on like dogs in couples, with some difficulty and occasional - snarling, but without absolutely coming to a stand-still or throttling - each other. - </p> - <p> - Some little disagreement, such as we have mentioned, arising out of - business, or politics, had divided the houses of Knockwinnock and - Monkbarns, when the emissary of the latter arrived to discharge his - errand. In his ancient Gothic parlour, whose windows on one side looked - out upon the restless ocean, and, on the other, upon the long straight - avenue, was the Baronet seated, now turning over the leaves of a folio, - now casting a weary glance where the sun quivered on the dark-green - foliage and smooth trunks of the large and branching limes with which the - avenue was planted. At length, sight of joy! a moving object is seen, and - it gives rise to the usual inquiries, Who is it? and what can be his - errand? The old whitish-grey coat, the hobbling gait, the hat - half-slouched, half-cocked, announced the forlorn maker of periwigs, and - left for investigation only the second query. This was soon solved by a - servant entering the parlour,—"A letter from Monkbarns, Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur took the epistle with a due assumption of consequential - dignity. - </p> - <p> - "Take the old man into the kitchen, and let him get some refreshment," - said the young lady, whose compassionate eye had remarked his thin grey - hair and wearied gait. - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Oldbuck, my love, invites us to dinner on Tuesday the 17th," said the - Baronet, pausing;—"he really seems to forget that he has not of late - conducted himself so civilly towards me as might have been expected." - </p> - <p> - "Dear sir, you have so many advantages over poor Mr. Oldbuck, that no - wonder it should put him a little out of humour; but I know he has much - respect for your person and your conversation;—nothing would give - him more pain than to be wanting in any real attention." - </p> - <p> - "True, true, Isabella; and one must allow for the original descent;—something - of the German boorishness still flows in the blood; something of the - whiggish and perverse opposition to established rank and privilege. You - may observe that he never has any advantage of me in dispute, unless when - he avails himself of a sort of pettifogging intimacy with dates, names, - and trifling matters of fact—a tiresome and frivolous accuracy of - memory, which is entirely owing to his mechanical descent." - </p> - <p> - "He must find it convenient in historical investigation, I should think, - sir?" said the young lady. - </p> - <p> - "It leads to an uncivil and positive mode of disputing; and nothing seems - more unreasonable than to hear him impugn even Bellenden's rare - translation of Hector Boece, which I have the satisfaction to possess, and - which is a black-letter folio of great value, upon the authority of some - old scrap of parchment which he has saved from its deserved destiny of - being cut up into tailor's measures. And besides, that habit of minute and - troublesome accuracy leads to a mercantile manner of doing business, which - ought to be beneath a landed proprietor whose family has stood two or - three generations. I question if there's a dealer's clerk in Fairport that - can sum an account of interest better than Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - "But you'll accept his invitation, sir?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, ye—yes; we have no other engagement on hand, I think. Who can - the young man be he talks of?—he seldom picks up new acquaintance; - and he has no relation that I ever heard of." - </p> - <p> - "Probably some relation of his brother-in-law Captain M'Intyre." - </p> - <p> - "Very possibly—yes, we will accept—the M'Intyres are of a very - ancient Highland family. You may answer his card in the affirmative, - Isabella; I believe I have, no leisure to be <i>Dear Sirring</i> myself." - </p> - <p> - So this important matter being adjusted, Miss Wardour intimated "her own - and Sir Arthur's compliments, and that they would have the honour of - waiting upon Mr. Oldbuck. Miss Wardour takes this opportunity to renew her - hostility with Mr. Oldbuck, on account of his late long absence from - Knockwinnock, where his visits give so much pleasure." With this <i>placebo</i> - she concluded her note, with which old Caxon, now refreshed in limbs and - wind, set out on his return to the Antiquary's mansion. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SIXTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - <i>Moth.</i> By Woden, God of Saxons, - From whence comes Wensday, that is, Wodnesday, - Truth is a thing that I will ever keep - Unto thylke day in which I creep into - My sepulcre— - Cartwright's <i>Ordinary.</i> -</pre> - <p> - Our young friend Lovel, who had received a corresponding invitation, - punctual to the hour of appointment, arrived at Monkbarns about five - minutes before four o'clock on the 17th of July. The day had been - remarkably sultry, and large drops of rain had occasionally fallen, though - the threatened showers had as yet passed away. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck received him at the Palmer's-port in his complete brown suit, - grey silk stockings, and wig powdered with all the skill of the veteran - Caxon, who having smelt out the dinner, had taken care not to finish his - job till the hour of eating approached. - </p> - <p> - "You are welcome to my symposion, Mr. Lovel. And now let me introduce you - to my Clogdogdo's, as Tom Otter calls them—my unlucky and - good-for-nothing womankind—<i>malae bestiae,</i> Mr. Lovel." - </p> - <p> - "I shall be disappointed, sir, if I do not find the ladies very - undeserving of your satire." - </p> - <p> - "Tilley-valley, Mr. Lovel,—which, by the way, one commentator - derives from <i>tittivillitium,</i> and another from <i>talley-ho</i>—but - tilley-valley, I say—a truce with your politeness. You will find - them but samples of womankind—But here they be, Mr. Lovel. I present - to you in due order, my most discreet sister Griselda, who disdains the - simplicity, as well as patience annexed to the poor old name of Grizzel; - and my most exquisite niece Maria, whose mother was called Mary, and - sometimes Molly." - </p> - <p> - The elderly lady rustled in silks and satins, and bore upon her head a - structure resembling the fashion in the ladies' memorandum-book for the - year 1770—a superb piece of architecture, not much less than a - modern Gothic castle, of which the curls might represent the turrets, the - black pins the <i>chevaux de frise,</i> and the lappets the banners. - </p> - <p> - The face, which, like that of the ancient statues of Vesta, was thus - crowned with towers, was large and long, and peaked at nose and chin, and - bore, in other respects, such a ludicrous resemblance to the physiognomy - of Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck, that Lovel, had they not appeared at once, like - Sebastian and Viola in the last scene of the "Twelfth Night," might have - supposed that the figure before him was his old friend masquerading in - female attire. An antique flowered silk gown graced the extraordinary - person to whom belonged this unparalleled <i>tete,</i> which her brother - was wont to say was fitter for a turban for Mahound or Termagant, than a - head-gear for a reasonable creature, or Christian gentlewoman. Two long - and bony arms were terminated at the elbows by triple blond ruffles, and - being, folded saltire-ways in front of her person, and decorated with long - gloves of a bright vermilion colour, presented no bad resemblance to a - pair of gigantic lobsters. High-heeled shoes, and a short silk cloak, - thrown in easy negligence over her shoulders, completed the exterior of - Miss Griselda Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - Her niece, the same whom Lovel had seen transiently during his first - visit, was a pretty young woman, genteelly dressed according to the - fashion of the day, with an air of <i>espieglerie</i> which became her - very well, and which was perhaps derived from the caustic humour peculiar - to her uncle's family, though softened by transmission. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Lovel paid his respects to both ladies, and was answered by the elder - with the prolonged courtesy of 1760, drawn from the righteous period, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When folks conceived a grace - Of half an hour's space, - And rejoiced in a Friday's capon, -</pre> - <p> - and by the younger with a modern reverence, which, like the festive - benediction of a modern divine, was of much shorter duration. - </p> - <p> - While this salutation was exchanging, Sir Arthur, with his fair daughter - hanging upon his arm, having dismissed his chariot, appeared at the garden - door, and in all due form paid his respects to the ladies. - </p> - <p> - "Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary, "and you, my fair foe, let me make known - to you my young friend Mr. Lovel, a gentleman who, during the - scarlet-fever which is epidemic at present in this our island, has the - virtue and decency to appear in a coat of a civil complexion. You see, - however, that the fashionable colour has mustered in his cheeks which - appears not in his garments. Sir Arthur, let me present to you a young - gentleman, whom your farther knowledge will find grave, wise, courtly, and - scholar-like, well seen, deeply read, and thoroughly grounded in all the - hidden mysteries of the green-room and stage, from the days of Davie - Lindsay down to those of Dibdin—he blushes again, which is a sign of - grace." - </p> - <p> - "My brother," said Miss Griselda, addressing Lovel, "has a humorous way of - expressing himself, sir; nobody thinks anything of what Monkbarns says—so - I beg you will not be so confused for the matter of his nonsense; but you - must have had a warm walk beneath this broiling sun—would you take - anything?—a glass of balm-wine?" - </p> - <p> - Ere Lovel could answer, the Antiquary interposed. "Aroint thee, witch! - wouldst thou poison my guests with thy infernal decoctions? Dost thou not - remember how it fared with the clergyman whom you seduced to partake of - that deceitful beverage?" - </p> - <p> - "O fy, fy, brother!—Sir Arthur, did you ever hear the like?—he - must have everything his ain way, or he will invent such stories—But - there goes Jenny to ring the old bell to tell us that the dinner is - ready." - </p> - <p> - Rigid in his economy, Mr. Oldbuck kept no male servant. This he disguised - under the pretext that the masculine sex was too noble to be employed in - those acts of personal servitude, which, in all early periods of society, - were uniformly imposed on the female. "Why," would he say, "did the boy, - Tam Rintherout, whom, at my wise sister's instigation, I, with equal - wisdom, took upon trial—why did he pilfer apples, take birds' nests, - break glasses, and ultimately steal my spectacles, except that he felt - that noble emulation which swells in the bosom of the masculine sex, which - has conducted him to Flanders with a musket on his shoulder, and doubtless - will promote him to a glorious halbert, or even to the gallows? And why - does this girl, his full sister, Jenny Rintherout, move in the same - vocation with safe and noiseless step—shod, or unshod—soft as - the pace of a cat, and docile as a spaniel—Why? but because she is - in her vocation. Let them minister to us, Sir Arthur,—let them - minister, I say,—it's the only thing they are fit for. All ancient - legislators, from Lycurgus to Mahommed, corruptly called Mahomet, agree in - putting them in their proper and subordinate rank, and it is only the - crazy heads of our old chivalrous ancestors that erected their Dulcineas - into despotic princesses." - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour protested loudly against this ungallant doctrine; but the - bell now rung for dinner. - </p> - <p> - "Let me do all the offices of fair courtesy to so fair an antagonist," - said the old gentleman, offering his arm. "I remember, Miss Wardour, - Mahommed (vulgarly Mahomet) had some hesitation about the mode of - summoning his Moslemah to prayer. He rejected bells as used by Christians, - trumpets as the summons of the Guebres, and finally adopted the human - voice. I have had equal doubt concerning my dinner-call. Gongs, now in - present use, seemed a newfangled and heathenish invention, and the voice - of the female womankind I rejected as equally shrill and dissonant; - wherefore, contrary to the said Mahommed, or Mahomet, I have resumed the - bell. It has a local propriety, since it was the conventual signal for - spreading the repast in their refectory, and it has the advantage over the - tongue of my sister's prime minister, Jenny, that, though not quite so - loud and shrill, it ceases ringing the instant you drop the bell-rope: - whereas we know, by sad experience, that any attempt to silence Jenny, - only wakes the sympathetic chime of Miss Oldbuck and Mary M'Intyre to join - in chorus." - </p> - <p> - With this discourse he led the way to his dining-parlour, which Lovel had - not yet seen;—it was wainscotted, and contained some curious - paintings. The dining-table was attended by Jenny; but an old - superintendent, a sort of female butler, stood by the sideboard, and - underwent the burden of bearing several reproofs from Mr. Oldbuck, and - inuendos, not so much marked, but not less cutting, from his sister. - </p> - <p> - The dinner was such as suited a professed antiquary, comprehending many - savoury specimens of Scottish viands, now disused at the tables of those - who affect elegance. There was the relishing Solan goose, whose smell is - so powerful that he is never cooked within doors. Blood-raw he proved to - be on this occasion, so that Oldbuck half threatened to throw the greasy - sea-fowl at the head of the negligent housekeeper, who acted as priestess - in presenting this odoriferous offering. But, by good-hap, she had been - most fortunate in the hotch-potch, which was unanimously pronounced to be - inimitable. "I knew we should succeed here," said Oldbuck exultingly, "for - Davie Dibble, the gardener (an old bachelor like myself), takes care the - rascally women do not dishonour our vegetables. And here is fish and - sauce, and crappit-heads—I acknowledge our womankind excel in that - dish—it procures them the pleasure of scolding, for half an hour at - least, twice a-week, with auld Maggy Mucklebackit, our fish-wife. The - chicken-pie, Mr. Lovel, is made after a recipe bequeathed to me by my - departed grandmother of happy memory—And if you will venture on a - glass of wine, you will find it worthy of one who professes the maxim of - King Alphonso of Castile,—Old wood to burn—old books to read—old - wine to drink—and old friends, Sir Arthur—ay, Mr. Lovel, and - young friends too, to converse with." - </p> - <p> - "And what news do you bring us from Edinburgh, Monkbarns?" said Sir - Arthur; "how wags the world in Auld Reekie?" - </p> - <p> - "Mad, Sir Arthur, mad—irretrievably frantic—far beyond dipping - in the sea, shaving the crown, or drinking hellebore. The worst sort of - frenzy, a military frenzy, hath possessed man, woman, and child." - </p> - <p> - "And high time, I think," said Miss Wardour, "when we are threatened with - invasion from abroad and insurrection at home." - </p> - <p> - "O, I did not doubt you would join the scarlet host against me—women, - like turkeys, are always subdued by a red rag—But what says Sir - Arthur, whose dreams are of standing armies and German oppression?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, I say, Mr. Oldbuck," replied the knight, "that so far as I am - capable of judging, we ought to resist <i>cum toto corpore regni</i>—as - the phrase is, unless I have altogether forgotten my Latin—an enemy - who comes to propose to us a Whiggish sort of government, a republican - system, and who is aided and abetted by a sort of fanatics of the worst - kind in our own bowels. I have taken some measures, I assure you, such as - become my rank in the community; for I have directed the constables to - take up that old scoundrelly beggar, Edie Ochiltree, for spreading - disaffection against church and state through the whole parish. He said - plainly to old Caxon, that Willie Howie's Kilmarnock cowl covered more - sense than all the three wigs in the parish—I think it is easy to - make out that inuendo—But the rogue shall be taught better manners." - </p> - <p> - "O no, my dear sir," exclaimed Miss Wardour, "not old Edie, that we have - known so long;—I assure you no constable shall have my good graces - that executes such a warrant." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, there it goes," said the Antiquary; "you, to be a staunch Tory, Sir - Arthur, have nourished a fine sprig of Whiggery in your bosom—Why, - Miss Wardour is alone sufficient to control a whole quarter-session—a - quarter-session? ay, a general assembly or convocation to boot—a - Boadicea she—an Amazon, a Zenobia." - </p> - <p> - "And yet, with all my courage, Mr. Oldbuck, I am glad to hear our people - are getting under arms." - </p> - <p> - "Under arms, Lord love thee! didst thou ever read the history of Sister - Margaret, which flowed from a head, that, though now old and somedele - grey, has more sense and political intelligence than you find now-a-days - in the whole synod? Dost thou remember the Nurse's dream in that exquisite - work, which she recounts in such agony to Hubble Bubble?—When she - would have taken up a piece of broad-cloth in her vision, lo! it exploded - like a great iron cannon; when she put out her hand to save a pirn, it - perked up in her face in the form of a pistol. My own vision in Edinburgh - has been something similar. I called to consult my lawyer; he was clothed - in a dragoon's dress, belted and casqued, and about to mount a charger, - which his writing-clerk (habited as a sharp-shooter) walked to and fro - before his door. I went to scold my agent for having sent me to advise - with a madman; he had stuck into his head the plume, which in more sober - days he wielded between his fingers, and figured as an artillery officer. - My mercer had his spontoon in his hand, as if he measured his cloth by - that implement, instead of a legitimate yard. The banker's clerk, who was - directed to sum my cash-account, blundered it three times, being - disordered by the recollection of his military <i>tellings-off</i> at the - morning-drill. I was ill, and sent for a surgeon— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - He came—but valour so had fired his eye, - And such a falchion glittered on his thigh, - That, by the gods, with such a load of steel, - I thought he came to murder,—not to heal. -</pre> - <p> - I had recourse to a physician, but he also was practising a more wholesale - mode of slaughter than that which his profession had been supposed at all - times to open to him. And now, since I have returned here, even our wise - neighbours of Fairport have caught the same valiant humour. I hate a gun - like a hurt wild duck—I detest a drum like a quaker;—and they - thunder and rattle out yonder upon the town's common, so that every volley - and roll goes to my very heart." - </p> - <p> - "Dear brother, dinna speak that gate o' the gentlemen volunteers—I - am sure they have a most becoming uniform—Weel I wot they have been - wet to the very skin twice last week—I met them marching in terribly - doukit, an mony a sair hoast was amang them—And the trouble they - take, I am sure it claims our gratitude." - </p> - <p> - "And I am sure," said Miss M'Intyre, "that my uncle sent twenty guineas to - help out their equipments." - </p> - <p> - "It was to buy liquorice and sugar-candy," said the cynic, "to encourage - the trade of the place, and to refresh the throats of the officers who had - bawled themselves hoarse in the service of their country." - </p> - <p> - "Take care, Monkbarns! we shall set you down among the black-nebs by and - by." - </p> - <p> - "No Sir Arthur—a tame grumbler I. I only claim the privilege of - croaking in my own corner here, without uniting my throat to the grand - chorus of the marsh—<i>Ni quito Rey, ni pongo Rey</i>—I - neither make king nor mar king, as Sancho says, but pray heartily for our - own sovereign, pay scot and lot, and grumble at the exciseman—But - here comes the ewe-milk cheese in good time; it is a better digestive than - politics." - </p> - <p> - When dinner was over, and the decanters placed on the table, Mr. Oldbuck - proposed the King's health in a bumper, which was readily acceded to both - by Lovel and the Baronet, the Jacobitism of the latter being now a sort of - speculative opinion merely,—the shadow of a shade. - </p> - <p> - After the ladies had left the apartment, the landlord and Sir Arthur - entered into several exquisite discussions, in which the younger guest, - either on account of the abstruse erudition which they involved, or for - some other reason, took but a slender share, till at length he was - suddenly started out of a profound reverie by an unexpected appeal to his - judgment. - </p> - <p> - "I will stand by what Mr. Lovel says; he was born in the north of England, - and may know the very spot." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur thought it unlikely that so young a gentleman should have paid - much attention to matters of that sort. - </p> - <p> - "I am avised of the contrary," said Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "How say you, Mr. Lovel?—speak up for your own credit, man." - </p> - <p> - Lovel was obliged to confess himself in the ridiculous situation of one - alike ignorant of the subject of conversation and controversy which had - engaged the company for an hour. - </p> - <p> - "Lord help the lad, his head has been wool-gathering!—I thought how - it would be when the womankind were admitted—no getting a word of - sense out of a young fellow for six hours after.—Why, man, there was - once a people called the Piks"— - </p> - <p> - "More properly <i>Picts,</i>" interrupted the Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "I say the <i>Pikar, Pihar, Piochtar, Piaghter,</i> or <i>Peughtar,</i>" - vociferated Oldbuck; "they spoke a Gothic dialect"— - </p> - <p> - "Genuine Celtic," again asseverated the knight. - </p> - <p> - "Gothic! Gothic! I'll go to death upon it!" counter-asseverated the - squire. - </p> - <p> - "Why, gentlemen," sad Lovel, "I conceive that is a dispute which may be - easily settled by philologists, if there are any remains of the language." - </p> - <p> - "There is but one word," said the Baronet, "but, in spite of Mr. Oldbuck's - pertinacity, it is decisive of the question." - </p> - <p> - "Yes, in my favour," said Oldbuck: "Mr. Lovel, you shall be judge—I - have the learned Pinkerton on my side." - </p> - <p> - "I, on mine, the indefatigable and erudite Chalmers." - </p> - <p> - "Gordon comes into my opinion." - </p> - <p> - "Sir Robert Sibbald holds mine." - </p> - <p> - "Innes is with me!" vociferated Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Riston has no doubt!" shouted the Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "Truly, gentlemen," said Lovel, "before you muster your forces and - overwhelm me with authorities, I should like to know the word in dispute." - </p> - <p> - "<i>Benval</i>" said both the disputants at once. - </p> - <p> - "Which signifies <i>caput valli,</i>" said Sir Arthur. - </p> - <p> - "The head of the wall," echoed Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - There was a deep pause.—"It is rather a narrow foundation to build a - hypothesis upon," observed the arbiter. - </p> - <p> - "Not a whit, not a whit," said Oldbuck; "men fight best in a narrow ring—an - inch is as good as a mile for a home-thrust." - </p> - <p> - "It is decidedly Celtic," said the Baronet; "every hill in the Highlands - begins with <i>Ben.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "But what say you to <i>Val,</i> Sir Arthur; is it not decidedly the Saxon - <i>wall?</i>" - </p> - <p> - "It is the Roman <i>vallum,</i>" said Sir Arthur;—"the Picts - borrowed that part of the word." - </p> - <p> - "No such thing; if they borrowed anything, it must have been your <i>Ben,</i> - which they might have from the neighbouring Britons of Strath Cluyd." - </p> - <p> - "The Piks, or Picts," said Lovel, "must have been singularly poor in - dialect, since, in the only remaining word of their vocabulary, and that - consisting only of two syllables, they have been confessedly obliged to - borrow one of them from another language; and, methinks, gentlemen, with - submission, the controversy is not unlike that which the two knights - fought, concerning the shield that had one side white and the other black. - Each of you claim one-half of the word, and seem to resign the other. But - what strikes me most, is the poverty of the language which has left such - slight vestiges behind it." - </p> - <p> - "You are in an error," said Sir Arthur; "it was a copious language, and - they were a great and powerful people; built two steeples—one at - Brechin, one at Abernethy. The Pictish maidens of the blood-royal were - kept in Edinburgh Castle, thence called <i>Castrum Puellarum.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "A childish legend," said Oldbuck, "invented to give consequence to - trumpery womankind. It was called the Maiden Castle, <i>quasi lucus a non - lucendo,</i> because it resisted every attack, and women never do." - </p> - <p> - "There is a list of the Pictish kings," persisted Sir Arthur, "well - authenticated from Crentheminachcryme (the date of whose reign is somewhat - uncertain) down to Drusterstone, whose death concluded their dynasty. Half - of them have the Celtic patronymic <i>Mac</i> prefixed—Mac, <i>id - est filius;</i>—what do you say to that, Mr. Oldbuck? There is Drust - Macmorachin, Trynel Maclachlin (first of that ancient clan, as it may be - judged), and Gormach Macdonald, Alpin Macmetegus, Drust Mactallargam" - (here he was interrupted by a fit of coughing)—"ugh, ugh, ugh—Golarge - Macchan—ugh, ugh—Macchanan—ugh—Macchananail, - Kenneth—ugh—ugh— Macferedith, Eachan Macfungus—and - twenty more, decidedly Celtic names, which I could repeat, if this damned - cough would let me." - </p> - <p> - "Take a glass of wine, Sir Arthur, and drink down that bead-roll of - unbaptized jargon, that would choke the devil—why, that last fellow - has the only intelligible name you have repeated—they are all of the - tribe of Macfungus—mushroom monarchs every one of them; sprung up - from the fumes of conceit, folly, and falsehood, fermenting in the brains - of some mad Highland seannachie." - </p> - <p> - "I am surprised to hear you, Mr. Oldbuck: you know, or ought to know, that - the list of these potentates was copied by Henry Maule of Melguin, from - the Chronicles of Loch Leven and St. Andrews, and put forth by him in his - short but satisfactory history of the Picts, printed by Robert Freebairn - of Edinburgh, and sold by him at his shop in the Parliament Close, in the - year of God seventeen hundred and five, or six, I am not precisely certain - which—but I have a copy at home that stands next to my twelvemo copy - of the Scots Acts, and ranges on the shelf with them very well. What say - you to that, Mr. Oldbuck?" - </p> - <p> - "Say?—why, I laugh at Harry Maule and his history," answered - Oldbuck, "and thereby comply with his request, of giving it entertainment - according to its merits." - </p> - <p> - "Do not laugh at a better man than yourself," said Sir Arthur, somewhat - scornfully. - </p> - <p> - "I do not conceive I do, Sir Arthur, in laughing either at him or his - history." - </p> - <p> - "Henry Maule of Melgum was a gentleman, Mr. Oldbuck." - </p> - <p> - "I presume he had no advantage of me in <i>that</i> particular," replied - the Antiquary, somewhat tartly. - </p> - <p> - "Permit me, Mr. Oldbuck—he was a gentleman of high family, and - ancient descent, and therefore"— - </p> - <p> - "The descendant of a Westphalian printer should speak of him with - deference? Such may be your opinion, Sir Arthur—it is not mine. I - conceive that my descent from that painful and industrious typographer, - Wolfbrand Oldenbuck, who, in the month of December 1493, under the - patronage, as the colophon tells us, of Sebaldus Scheyter and Sebastian - Kammermaister, accomplished the printing of the great Chronicle of - Nuremberg—I conceive, I say, that my descent from that great - restorer of learning is more creditable to me as a man of letters, than if - I had numbered in my genealogy all the brawling, bullet-headed, - iron-fisted, old Gothic barons since the days of Crentheminachcryme—not - one of whom, I suppose, could write his own name." - </p> - <p> - "If you mean the observation as a sneer at my ancestry," said the knight, - with an assumption of dignified superiority and composure, "I have the - pleasure to inform you, that the name of my ancestor, Gamelyn de - Guardover, Miles, is written fairly with his own hand in the earliest copy - of the Ragman-roll." - </p> - <p> - "Which only serves to show that he was one of the earliest who set the - mean example of submitting to Edward I. What have, you to say for the - stainless loyalty of your family, Sir Arthur, after such a backsliding as - that?" - </p> - <p> - "It's enough, sir," said Sir Arthur, starting up fiercely, and pushing - back his chair; "I shall hereafter take care how I honour with my company - one who shows himself so ungrateful for my condescension." - </p> - <p> - "In that you will do as you find most agreeable, Sir Arthur;—I hope, - that as I was not aware of the extent of the obligation which you have - done me by visiting my poor house, I may be excused for not having carried - my gratitude to the extent of servility." - </p> - <p> - "Mighty well—mighty well, Mr. Oldbuck—I wish you a good - evening—Mr. a—a—a—Shovel—I wish you a very - good evening." - </p> - <p> - Out of the parlour door flounced the incensed Sir Arthur, as if the spirit - of the whole Round Table inflamed his single bosom, and traversed with - long strides the labyrinth of passages which conducted to the - drawing-room. - </p> - <p> - "Did you ever hear such an old tup-headed ass?" said Oldbuck, briefly - apostrophizing Lovel. "But I must not let him go in this mad-like way - neither." - </p> - <p> - So saying, he pushed off after the retreating Baronet, whom he traced by - the clang of several doors which he opened in search of the apartment for - tea, and slammed with force behind him at every disappointment. "You'll do - yourself a mischief," roared the Antiquary; "<i>Qui ambulat in tenebris, - nescit quo vadit</i>—You'll tumble down the back-stair." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur had now got involved in darkness, of which the sedative effect - is well known to nurses and governesses who have to deal with pettish - children. It retarded the pace of the irritated Baronet, if it did not - abate his resentment, and Mr. Oldbuck, better acquainted with the <i>locale,</i> - got up with him as he had got his grasp upon the handle of the - drawing-room door. - </p> - <p> - "Stay a minute, Sir Arthur," said Oldbuck, opposing his abrupt entrance; - "don't be quite so hasty, my good old friend. I was a little too rude with - you about Sir Gamelyn—why, he is an old acquaintance of mine, man, - and a favourite; he kept company with Bruce and Wallace—and, I'll be - sworn on a black-letter Bible, only subscribed the Ragman-roll with the - legitimate and justifiable intention of circumventing the false Southern—'twas - right Scottish craft, my good knight—hundreds did it. Come, come, - forget and forgive—confess we have given the young fellow here a - right to think us two testy old fools." - </p> - <p> - "Speak for yourself, Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur with much - majesty. - </p> - <p> - "A-well, a-well—a wilful man must have his way." - </p> - <p> - With that the door opened, and into the drawing-room marched the tall - gaunt form of Sir Arthur, followed by Lovel and Mr. Oldbuck, the - countenances of all the three a little discomposed. - </p> - <p> - "I have been waiting for you, sir," said Miss Wardour, "to propose we - should walk forward to meet the carriage, as the evening is so fine." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur readily assented to this proposal, which suited the angry mood - in which he found himself; and having, agreeable to the established custom - in cases of pet, refused the refreshment of tea and coffee, he tucked his - daughter under his arm; and after taking a ceremonious leave of the - ladies, and a very dry one of Oldbuck—off he marched. - </p> - <p> - "I think Sir Arthur has got the black dog on his back again," said Miss - Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Black dog!—black devil!—he's more absurd than womankind—What - say you, Lovel?—Why, the lad's gone too." - </p> - <p> - "He took his leave, uncle, while Miss Wardour was putting on her things; - but I don't think you observed him." - </p> - <p> - "The devil's in the people! This is all one gets by fussing and bustling, - and putting one's self out of one's way in order to give dinners, besides - all the charges they are put to!—O Seged, Emperor of Ethiopia!" said - he, taking up a cup of tea in the one hand, and a volume of the Rambler in - the other,—for it was his regular custom to read while he was eating - or drinking in presence of his sister, being a practice which served at - once to evince his contempt for the society of womankind, and his - resolution to lose no moment of instruction,—"O Seged, Emperor of - Ethiopia! well hast thou spoken—No man should presume to say, This - shall be a day of happiness." - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck proceeded in his studies for the best part of an hour, - uninterrupted by the ladies, who each, in profound silence, pursued some - female employment. At length, a light and modest tap was heard at the - parlour door. "Is that you, Caxon?—come in, come in, man." - </p> - <p> - The old man opened the door, and thrusting in his meagre face, thatched - with thin grey locks, and one sleeve of his white coat, said in a subdued - and mysterious tone of voice, "I was wanting to speak to you, sir." - </p> - <p> - "Come in then, you old fool, and say what you have got to say." - </p> - <p> - "I'll maybe frighten the ladies," said the ex-friseur. - </p> - <p> - "Frighten!" answered the Antiquary,—"what do you mean?—never - mind the ladies. Have you seen another ghaist at the Humlock-knowe?" - </p> - <p> - "Na, sir—it's no a ghaist this turn," replied Caxton;—"but I'm - no easy in my mind." - </p> - <p> - "Did you ever hear of any body that was?" answered Oldbuck;—"what - reason has an old battered powder-puff like you to be easy in your mind, - more than all the rest of the world besides?" - </p> - <p> - "It's no for mysell, sir; but it threatens an awfu' night; and Sir Arthur, - and Miss Wardour, poor thing"— - </p> - <p> - "Why, man, they must have met the carriage at the head of the loaning, or - thereabouts; they must be home long ago." - </p> - <p> - "Na, sir; they didna gang the road by the turnpike to meet the carriage, - they gaed by the sands." - </p> - <p> - The word operated like electricity on Oldbuck. "The sands!" he exclaimed; - "impossible!" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, sir, that's what I said to the gardener; but he says he saw them turn - down by the Mussel-craig. In troth, says I to him, an that be the case, - Davie, I am misdoubting"— - </p> - <p> - "An almanac! an almanac!" said Oldbuck, starting up in great alarm—"not - that bauble!" flinging away a little pocket almanac which his niece - offered him.—"Great God! my poor dear Miss Isabella!—Fetch me - instantly the Fairport Almanac."—It was brought, consulted, and - added greatly to his agitation. "I'll go myself—call the gardener - and ploughman—bid them bring ropes and ladders—bid them raise - more help as they come along—keep the top of the cliffs, and halloo - down to them—I'll go myself." - </p> - <p> - "What is the matter?" inquired Miss Oldbuck and Miss M'Intyre. - </p> - <p> - "The tide!—the tide!" answered the alarmed Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Had not Jenny better—but no, I'll run myself," said the younger - lady, partaking in all her uncle's terrors—"I'll run myself to - Saunders Mucklebackit, and make him get out his boat." - </p> - <p> - "Thank you, my dear, that's the wisest word that has been spoken yet—Run! - run!—To go by the sands!" seizing his hat and cane; "was there ever - such madness heard of!" - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SEVENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —Pleased awhile to view - The watery waste, the prospect wild and new; - The now receding waters gave them space, - On either side, the growing shores to trace - And then returning, they contract the scene, - Till small and smaller grows the walk between. - Crabbe. -</pre> - <p> - The information of Davie Dibble, which had spread such general alarm at - Monkbarns, proved to be strictly correct. Sir Arthur and his daughter had - set out, according to their first proposal, to return to Knockwinnock by - the turnpike road; but when they reached the head of the loaning, as it - was called, or great lane, which on one side made a sort of avenue to the - house of Monkbarns, they discerned, a little way before them, Lovel, who - seemed to linger on the way as if to give him an opportunity to join them. - Miss Wardour immediately proposed to her father that they should take - another direction; and, as the weather was fine, walk home by the sands, - which, stretching below a picturesque ridge of rocks, afforded at almost - all times a pleasanter passage between Knockwinnock and Monkbarns than the - high-road. - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0006" id="image-0006"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa082.jpg" alt="Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - Sir Arthur acquiesced willingly. "It would be unpleasant," he said, "to be - joined by that young fellow, whom Mr. Oldbuck had taken the freedom to - introduce them to." And his old-fashioned politeness had none of the ease - of the present day which permits you, if you have a mind, to <i>cut</i> - the person you have associated with for a week, the instant you feel or - suppose yourself in a situation which makes it disagreeable to own him. - Sir Arthur only stipulated, that a little ragged boy, for the guerdon of - one penny sterling, should run to meet his coachman, and turn his equipage - back to Knockwinnock. - </p> - <p> - When this was arranged, and the emissary despatched, the knight and his - daughter left the high-road, and following a wandering path among sandy - hillocks, partly grown over with furze and the long grass called bent, - soon attained the side of the ocean. The tide was by no means so far out - as they had computed but this gave them no alarm;—there were seldom - ten days in the year when it approached so near the cliffs as not to leave - a dry passage. But, nevertheless, at periods of spring-tide, or even when - the ordinary flood was accelerated by high winds, this road was altogether - covered by the sea; and tradition had recorded several fatal accidents - which had happened on such occasions. Still, such dangers were considered - as remote and improbable; and rather served, with other legends, to amuse - the hamlet fireside, than to prevent any one from going between - Knockwinnock and Monkbarns by the sands. - </p> - <p> - As Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour paced along, enjoying the pleasant footing - afforded by the cool moist hard sand, Miss Wardour could not help - observing that the last tide had risen considerably above the usual - water-mark. Sir Arthur made the same observation, but without its - occurring to either of them to be alarmed at the circumstance. The sun was - now resting his huge disk upon the edge of the level ocean, and gilded the - accumulation of towering clouds through which he had travelled the - livelong day, and which now assembled on all sides, like misfortunes and - disasters around a sinking empire and falling monarch. Still, however, his - dying splendour gave a sombre magnificence to the massive congregation of - vapours, forming out of their unsubstantial gloom the show of pyramids and - towers, some touched with gold, some with purple, some with a hue of deep - and dark red. The distant sea, stretched beneath this varied and gorgeous - canopy, lay almost portentously still, reflecting back the dazzling and - level beams of the descending luminary, and the splendid colouring of the - clouds amidst which he was setting. Nearer to the beach the tide rippled - onward in waves of sparkling silver, that imperceptibly, yet rapidly, - gained upon the sand. - </p> - <p> - With a mind employed in admiration of the romantic scene, or perhaps on - some more agitating topic, Miss Wardour advanced in silence by her - father's side, whose recently offended dignity did not stoop to open any - conversation. Following the windings of the beach, they passed one - projecting point of headland or rock after another, and now found - themselves under a huge and continued extent of the precipices by which - that iron-bound coast is in most places defended. Long projecting reefs of - rock, extending under water and only evincing their existence by here and - there a peak entirely bare, or by the breakers which foamed over those - that were partially covered, rendered Knockwinnock bay dreaded by pilots - and ship-masters. The crags which rose between the beach and the mainland, - to the height of two or three hundred feet, afforded in their crevices - shelter for unnumbered sea-fowl, in situations seemingly secured by their - dizzy height from the rapacity of man. Many of these wild tribes, with the - instinct which sends them to seek the land before a storm arises, were now - winging towards their nests with the shrill and dissonant clang which - announces disquietude and fear. The disk of the sun became almost totally - obscured ere he had altogether sunk below the horizon, and an early and - lurid shade of darkness blotted the serene twilight of a summer evening. - The wind began next to arise; but its wild and moaning sound was heard for - some time, and its effects became visible on the bosom of the sea, before - the gale was felt on shore. The mass of waters, now dark and threatening, - began to lift itself in larger ridges, and sink in deeper furrows, forming - waves that rose high in foam upon the breakers, or burst upon the beach - with a sound resembling distant thunder. - </p> - <p> - Appalled by this sudden change of weather, Miss Wardour drew close to her - father, and held his arm fast. "I wish," at length she said, but almost in - a whisper, as if ashamed to express her increasing apprehensions, "I wish - we had kept the road we intended, or waited at Monkbarns for the - carriage." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur looked round, but did not see, or would not acknowledge, any - signs of an immediate storm. They would reach Knockwinnock, he said, long - before the tempest began. But the speed with which he walked, and with - which Isabella could hardly keep pace, indicated a feeling that some - exertion was necessary to accomplish his consolatory prediction. - </p> - <p> - They were now near the centre of a deep but narrow bay or recess, formed - by two projecting capes of high and inaccessible rock, which shot out into - the sea like the horns of a crescent;—and neither durst communicate - the apprehension which each began to entertain, that, from the unusually - rapid advance of the tide, they might be deprived of the power of - proceeding by doubling the promontory which lay before them, or of - retreating by the road which brought them thither. - </p> - <p> - As they thus pressed forward, longing doubtless to exchange the easy - curving line, which the sinuosities of the bay compelled them to adopt, - for a straighter and more expeditious path, Sir Arthur observed a human - figure on the beach advancing to meet them. "Thank God," he exclaimed, "we - shall get round Halket-head!—that person must have passed it;" thus - giving vent to the feeling of hope, though he had suppressed that of - apprehension. - </p> - <p> - "Thank God, indeed!" echoed his daughter, half audibly, half internally, - as expressing the gratitude which she strongly felt. - </p> - <p> - The figure which advanced to meet them made many signs, which the haze of - the atmosphere, now disturbed by wind and by a drizzling rain, prevented - them from seeing or comprehending distinctly.—Some time before they - met, Sir Arthur could recognise the old blue-gowned beggar, Edie - Ochiltree. It is said that even the brute creation lay aside their - animosities and antipathies when pressed by an instant and common danger. - The beach under Halket-head, rapidly diminishing in extent by the - encroachments of a spring-tide and a north-west wind, was in like manner a - neutral field, where even a justice of peace and a strolling mendicant - might meet upon terms of mutual forbearance. - </p> - <p> - "Turn back! turn back!" exclaimed the vagrant; "why did ye not turn when I - waved to you?" - </p> - <p> - "We thought," replied Sir Arthur, in great agitation, "we thought we could - get round Halket-head." - </p> - <p> - "Halket-head!—the tide will be running on Halket-head by this time - like the Fall of Fyers!—it was a' I could do to get round it twenty - minutes since—it was coming in three feet abreast. We will maybe get - back by Bally-burgh Ness Point yet. The Lord help us!—it's our only - chance. We can but try." - </p> - <p> - "My God, my child!"—"My father! my dear father!" exclaimed the - parent and daughter, as, fear lending them strength and speed, they turned - to retrace their steps, and endeavoured to double the point, the - projection of which formed the southern extremity of the bay. - </p> - <p> - "I heard ye were here frae the bit callant ye sent to meet your carriage," - said the beggar, as he trudged stoutly on a step or two behind Miss - Wardour; "and I couldna bide to think o' the dainty young leddy's peril, - that has aye been kind to ilka forlorn heart that cam near her. Sae I - lookit at the lift and the rin o' the tide, till I settled it that if I - could get down time eneugh to gie you warning, we wad do weel yet. But I - doubt, I doubt, I have been beguiled! for what mortal ee ever saw sic a - race as the tide is risening e'en now? See, yonder's the Ratton's Skerry—he - aye held his neb abune the water in my day—but he's aneath it now." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur cast a look in the direction in which the old man pointed. A - huge rock, which in general, even in spring-tides, displayed a hulk like - the keel of a large vessel, was now quite under water, and its place only - indicated by the boiling and breaking of the eddying waves which - encountered its submarine resistance. - </p> - <p> - "Mak haste, mak haste, my bonny leddy," continued the old man—"mak - haste, and we may do yet! Take haud o' my arm—an auld and frail arm - it's now, but it's been in as sair stress as this is yet. Take haud o' my - arm, my winsome leddy! D'ye see yon wee black speck amang the wallowing - waves yonder? This morning it was as high as the mast o' a brig—it's - sma' eneugh now—but, while I see as muckle black about it as the - crown o' my hat, I winna believe but we'll get round the Ballyburgh Ness, - for a' that's come and gane yet." - </p> - <p> - Isabella, in silence, accepted from the old man the assistance which Sir - Arthur was less able to afford her. The waves had now encroached so much - upon the beach, that the firm and smooth footing which they had hitherto - had on the sand must be exchanged for a rougher path close to the foot of - the precipice, and in some places even raised upon its lower ledges. It - would have been utterly impossible for Sir Arthur Wardour, or his - daughter, to have found their way along these shelves without the guidance - and encouragement of the beggar, who had been there before in high tides, - though never, he acknowledged, "in sae awsome a night as this." - </p> - <p> - It was indeed a dreadful evening. The howling of the storm mingled with - the shrieks of the sea-fowl, and sounded like the dirge of the three - devoted beings, who, pent between two of the most magnificent, yet most - dreadful objects of nature—a raging tide and an insurmountable - precipice—toiled along their painful and dangerous path, often - lashed by the spray of some giant billow, which threw itself higher on the - beach than those that had preceded it. Each minute did their enemy gain - ground perceptibly upon them! Still, however, loth to relinquish the last - hopes of life, they bent their eyes on the black rock pointed out by - Ochiltree. It was yet distinctly visible among the breakers, and continued - to be so, until they came to a turn in their precarious path, where an - intervening projection of rock hid it from their sight. Deprived of the - view of the beacon on which they had relied, they now experienced the - double agony of terror and suspense. They struggled forward, however; but, - when they arrived at the point from which they ought to have seen the - crag, it was no longer visible: the signal of safety was lost among a - thousand white breakers, which, dashing upon the point of the promontory, - rose in prodigious sheets of snowy foam, as high as the mast of a - first-rate man-of-war, against the dark brow of the precipice. - </p> - <p> - The countenance of the old man fell. Isabella gave a faint shriek, and, - "God have mercy upon us!" which her guide solemnly uttered, was piteously - echoed by Sir Arthur—"My child! my child!—to die such a - death!" - </p> - <p> - "My father! my dear father!" his daughter exclaimed, clinging to him—"and - you too, who have lost your own life in endeavouring to save ours!" - </p> - <p> - "That's not worth the counting," said the old man. "I hae lived to be - weary o' life; and here or yonder—at the back o' a dyke, in a wreath - o' snaw, or in the wame o' a wave, what signifies how the auld gaberlunzie - dies?" - </p> - <p> - "Good man," said Sir Arthur, "can you think of nothing?—of no help?—I'll - make you rich—I'll give you a farm—I'll"— - </p> - <p> - "Our riches will be soon equal," said the beggar, looking out upon the - strife of the waters—"they are sae already; for I hae nae land, and - you would give your fair bounds and barony for a square yard of rock that - would be dry for twal hours." - </p> - <p> - While they exchanged these words, they paused upon the highest ledge of - rock to which they could attain; for it seemed that any further attempt to - move forward could only serve to anticipate their fate. Here, then, they - were to await the sure though slow progress of the raging element, - something in the situation of the martyrs of the early church, who, - exposed by heathen tyrants to be slain by wild beasts, were compelled for - a time to witness the impatience and rage by which the animals were - agitated, while awaiting the signal for undoing their grates, and letting - them loose upon the victims. - </p> - <p> - Yet even this fearful pause gave Isabella time to collect the powers of a - mind naturally strong and courageous, and which rallied itself at this - terrible juncture. "Must we yield life," she said, "without a struggle? Is - there no path, however dreadful, by which we could climb the crag, or at - least attain some height above the tide, where we could remain till - morning, or till help comes? They must be aware of our situation, and will - raise the country to relieve us." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur, who heard, but scarcely comprehended, his daughter's question, - turned, nevertheless, instinctively and eagerly to the old man, as if - their lives were in his gift. Ochiltree paused—"I was a bauld - craigsman," he said, "ance in my life, and mony a kittywake's and lungie's - nest hae I harried up amang thae very black rocks; but it's lang, lang - syne, and nae mortal could speel them without a rope—and if I had - ane, my ee-sight, and my footstep, and my hand-grip, hae a' failed mony a - day sinsyne—And then, how could I save <i>you?</i> But there was a - path here ance, though maybe, if we could see it, ye would rather bide - where we are—His name be praised!" he ejaculated suddenly, "there's - ane coming down the crag e'en now!"—Then, exalting his voice, he - hilloa'd out to the daring adventurer such instructions as his former - practice, and the remembrance of local circumstances, suddenly forced upon - his mind:—"Ye're right!—ye're right!—that gate—that - gate!—fasten the rope weel round Crummies-horn, that's the muckle - black stane—cast twa plies round it—that's it!—now, - weize yoursell a wee easel-ward—a wee mair yet to that ither stane—we - ca'd it the Cat's-lug—there used to be the root o' an aik tree there—that - will do!—canny now, lad—canny now—tak tent and tak time—Lord - bless ye, tak time—Vera weel!—Now ye maun get to Bessy's - apron, that's the muckle braid flat blue stane—and then, I think, - wi' your help and the tow thegither, I'll win at ye, and then we'll be - able to get up the young leddy and Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - The adventurer, following the directions of old Edie, flung him down the - end of the rope, which he secured around Miss Wardour, wrapping her - previously in his own blue gown, to preserve her as much as possible from - injury. Then, availing himself of the rope, which was made fast at the - other end, he began to ascend the face of the crag—a most precarious - and dizzy undertaking, which, however, after one or two perilous escapes, - placed him safe on the broad flat stone beside our friend Lovel. Their - joint strength was able to raise Isabella to the place of safety which - they had attained. Lovel then descended in order to assist Sir Arthur, - around whom he adjusted the rope; and again mounting to their place of - refuge, with the assistance of old Ochiltree, and such aid as Sir Arthur - himself could afford, he raised himself beyond the reach of the billows. - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0007" id="image-0007"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa092.jpg" - alt="The Rescue of Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - The sense of reprieve from approaching and apparently inevitable death, - had its usual effect. The father and daughter threw themselves into each - other's arms, kissed and wept for joy, although their escape was connected - with the prospect of passing a tempestuous night upon a precipitous ledge - of rock, which scarce afforded footing for the four shivering beings, who - now, like the sea-fowl around them, clung there in hopes of some shelter - from the devouring element which raged beneath. The spray of the billows, - which attained in fearful succession the foot of the precipice, - overflowing the beach on which they so lately stood, flew as high as their - place of temporary refuge; and the stunning sound with which they dashed - against the rocks beneath, seemed as if they still demanded the fugitives - in accents of thunder as their destined prey. It was a summer night, - doubtless; yet the probability was slender, that a frame so delicate as - that of Miss Wardour should survive till morning the drenching of the - spray; and the dashing of the rain, which now burst in full violence, - accompanied with deep and heavy gusts of wind, added to the constrained - and perilous circumstances of their situation. - </p> - <p> - "The lassie!—the puir sweet, lassie!" said the old man: "mony such a - night have I weathered at hame and abroad, but, God guide us, how can she - ever win through it!" - </p> - <p> - His apprehension was communicated in smothered accents to Lovel; for with - the sort of freemasonry by which bold and ready spirits correspond in - moments of danger, and become almost instinctively known to each other, - they had established a mutual confidence.—"I'll climb up the cliff - again," said Lovel—"there's daylight enough left to see my footing; - I'll climb up, and call for more assistance." - </p> - <p> - "Do so, do so, for Heaven's sake!" said Sir Arthur eagerly. - </p> - <p> - "Are ye mad?" said the mendicant: "Francie o' Fowlsheugh, and he was the - best craigsman that ever speel'd heugh (mair by token, he brake his neck - upon the Dunbuy of Slaines), wodna hae ventured upon the Halket-head - craigs after sun-down—It's God's grace, and a great wonder besides, - that ye are not in the middle o' that roaring sea wi' what ye hae done - already—I didna think there was the man left alive would hae come - down the craigs as ye did. I question an I could hae done it mysell, at - this hoar and in this weather, in the youngest and yaldest of my strength—But - to venture up again—it's a mere and a clear tempting o' Providence." - </p> - <p> - "I have no fear," answered Lovel; "I marked all the stations perfectly as - I came down, and there is still light enough left to see them quite well—I - am sure I can do it with perfect safety. Stay here, my good friend, by Sir - Arthur and the young lady." - </p> - <p> - "Dell be in my feet then," answered the bedesman sturdily; "if ye gang, - I'll gang too; for between the twa o' us, we'll hae mair than wark eneugh - to get to the tap o' the heugh." - </p> - <p> - "No, no—stay you here and attend to Miss Wardour—you see Sir - Arthur is quite exhausted." - </p> - <p> - "Stay yoursell then, and I'll gae," said the old man;—"let death - spare the green corn and take the ripe." - </p> - <p> - "Stay both of you, I charge you," said Isabella, faintly; "I am well, and - can spend the night very well here—I feel quite refreshed." So - saying, her voice failed her—she sunk down, and would have fallen - from the crag, had she not been supported by Lovel and Ochiltree, who - placed her in a posture half sitting, half reclining, beside her father, - who, exhausted by fatigue of body and mind so extreme and unusual, had - already sat down on a stone in a sort of stupor. - </p> - <p> - "It is impossible to leave them," said Lovel—"What is to be done?—Hark! - hark!—did I not hear a halloo?" - </p> - <p> - "The skreigh of a Tammie Norie," answered Ochiltree—"I ken the skirl - weel." - </p> - <p> - "No, by Heaven!" replied Lovel, "it was a human voice." - </p> - <p> - A distant hail was repeated, the sound plainly distinguishable among the - various elemental noises, and the clang of the sea-mews by which they were - surrounded. The mendicant and Lovel exerted their voices in a loud halloo, - the former waving Miss Wardour's handkerchief on the end of his staff to - make them conspicuous from above. Though the shouts were repeated, it was - some time before they were in exact response to their own, leaving the - unfortunate sufferers uncertain whether, in the darkening twilight and - increasing storm, they had made the persons who apparently were traversing - the verge of the precipice to bring them assistance, sensible of the place - in which they had found refuge. At length their halloo was regularly and - distinctly answered, and their courage confirmed, by the assurance that - they were within hearing, if not within reach, of friendly assistance. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER EIGHTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - There is a cliff, whose high and bending head - Looks fearfully on the confined deep; - Bring me but to the very brim of it, - And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear. - King Lear. -</pre> - <p> - The shout of human voices from above was soon augmented, and the gleam of - torches mingled with those lights of evening which still remained amidst - the darkness of the storm. Some attempt was made to hold communication - between the assistants above and the sufferers beneath, who were still - clinging to their precarious place of safety; but the howling of the - tempest limited their intercourse to cries as inarticulate as those of the - winged denizens of the crag, which shrieked in chorus, alarmed by the - reiterated sound of human voices, where they had seldom been heard. - </p> - <p> - On the verge of the precipice an anxious group had now assembled. Oldbuck - was the foremost and most earnest, pressing forward with unwonted - desperation to the very brink of the crag, and extending his head (his hat - and wig secured by a handkerchief under his chin) over the dizzy height, - with an air of determination which made his more timorous assistants - tremble. - </p> - <p> - "Haud a care, haud a care, Monkbarns!" cried Caxon, clinging to the skirts - of his patron, and withholding him from danger as far as his strength - permitted—"God's sake, haud a care!—Sir Arthur's drowned - already, and an ye fa' over the cleugh too, there will be but ae wig left - in the parish, and that's the minister's." - </p> - <p> - "Mind the peak there," cried Mucklebackit, an old fisherman and smuggler—"mind - the peak—Steenie, Steenie Wilks, bring up the tackle—I'se - warrant we'll sune heave them on board, Monkbarns, wad ye but stand out o' - the gate." - </p> - <p> - "I see them," said Oldbuck—"I see them low down on that flat stone—Hilli-hilloa, - hilli-ho-a!" - </p> - <p> - "I see them mysell weel eneugh," said Mucklebackit; "they are sitting down - yonder like hoodie-craws in a mist; but d'yo think ye'll help them wi' - skirling that gate like an auld skart before a flaw o' weather?—Steenie, - lad, bring up the mast—Od, I'se hae them up as we used to bouse up - the kegs o' gin and brandy lang syne—Get up the pickaxe, make a step - for the mast—make the chair fast with the rattlin—haul taught - and belay!" - </p> - <p> - The fishers had brought with them the mast of a boat, and as half of the - country fellows about had now appeared, either out of zeal or curiosity, - it was soon sunk in the ground, and sufficiently secured. A yard across - the upright mast, and a rope stretched along it, and reeved through a - block at each end, formed an extempore crane, which afforded the means of - lowering an arm-chair, well secured and fastened, down to the flat shelf - on which the sufferers had roosted. Their joy at hearing the preparations - going on for their deliverance was considerably qualified when they beheld - the precarious vehicle by means of which they were to be conveyed to upper - air. It swung about a yard free of the spot which they occupied, obeying - each impulse of the tempest, the empty air all around it, and depending - upon the security of a rope, which, in the increasing darkness, had - dwindled to an almost imperceptible thread. Besides the hazard of - committing a human being to the vacant atmosphere in such a slight means - of conveyance, there was the fearful danger of the chair and its occupant - being dashed, either by the wind or the vibrations of the cord, against - the rugged face of the precipice. But to diminish the risk as much as - possible, the experienced seaman had let down with the chair another line, - which, being attached to it, and held by the persons beneath, might serve - by way of <i>gy,</i> as Mucklebackit expressed it, to render its descent - in some measure steady and regular. Still, to commit one's self in such a - vehicle, through a howling tempest of wind and rain, with a beetling - precipice above and a raging abyss below, required that courage which - despair alone can inspire. Yet, wild as the sounds and sights of danger - were, both above, beneath, and around, and doubtful and dangerous as the - mode of escaping appeared to be, Lovel and the old mendicant agreed, after - a moment's consultation, and after the former, by a sudden strong pull, - had, at his own imminent risk, ascertained the security of the rope, that - it would be best to secure Miss Wardour in the chair, and trust to the - tenderness and care of those above for her being safely craned up to the - top of the crag. - </p> - <p> - "Let my father go first," exclaimed Isabella; "for God's sake, my friends, - place him first in safety!" - </p> - <p> - "It cannot be, Miss Wardour," said Lovel;—"your life must be first - secured—the rope which bears your weight may"— - </p> - <p> - "I will not listen to a reason so selfish!" - </p> - <p> - "But ye maun listen to it, my bonnie lassie," said Ochiltree, "for a' our - lives depend on it—besides, when ye get on the tap o' the heugh - yonder, ye can gie them a round guess o' what's ganging on in this Patmos - o' ours—and Sir Arthur's far by that, as I'm thinking." - </p> - <p> - Struck with the truth of this reasoning, she exclaimed, "True, most true; - I am ready and willing to undertake the first risk—What shall I say - to our friends above?" - </p> - <p> - "Just to look that their tackle does not graze on the face o' the crag, - and to let the chair down and draw it up hooly and fairly;—we will - halloo when we are ready." - </p> - <p> - With the sedulous attention of a parent to a child, Lovel bound Miss - Wardour with his handkerchief, neckcloth, and the mendicant's leathern - belt, to the back and arms of the chair, ascertaining accurately the - security of each knot, while Ochiltree kept Sir Arthur quiet. "What are ye - doing wi' my bairn?—what are ye doing?—She shall not be - separated from me—Isabel, stay with me, I command you!" - </p> - <p> - "Lordsake, Sir Arthur, haud your tongue, and be thankful to God that - there's wiser folk than you to manage this job," cried the beggar, worn - out by the unreasonable exclamations of the poor Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "Farewell, my father!" murmured Isabella—"farewell, my—my - friends!" and shutting her eyes, as Edie's experience recommended, she - gave the signal to Lovel, and he to those who were above. She rose, while - the chair in which she sate was kept steady by the line which Lovel - managed beneath. With a beating heart he watched the flutter of her white - dress, until the vehicle was on a level with the brink of the precipice. - </p> - <p> - "Canny now, lads, canny now!" exclaimed old Mucklebackit, who acted as - commodore; "swerve the yard a bit—Now—there! there she sits - safe on dry land." - </p> - <p> - A loud shout announced the successful experiment to her fellow-sufferers - beneath, who replied with a ready and cheerful halloo. Monkbarns, in his - ecstasy of joy, stripped his great-coat to wrap up the young lady, and - would have pulled off his coat and waistcoat for the same purpose, had he - not been withheld by the cautious Caxon. "Haud a care o' us! your honour - will be killed wi' the hoast—ye'll no get out o'your night-cowl this - fortnight—and that will suit us unco ill.—Na, na—there's - the chariot down by; let twa o' the folk carry the young leddy there." - </p> - <p> - "You're right," said the Antiquary, readjusting the sleeves and collar of - his coat, "you're right, Caxon; this is a naughty night to swim in.—Miss - Wardour, let me convey you to the chariot." - </p> - <p> - "Not for worlds till I see my father safe." - </p> - <p> - In a few distinct words, evincing how much her resolution had surmounted - even the mortal fear of so agitating a hazard, she explained the nature of - the situation beneath, and the wishes of Lovel and Ochiltree. - </p> - <p> - "Right, right, that's right too—I should like to see the son of Sir - Gamelyn de Guardover on dry land myself—I have a notion he would - sign the abjuration oath, and the Ragman-roll to boot, and acknowledge - Queen Mary to be nothing better than she should be, to get alongside my - bottle of old port that he ran away from, and left scarce begun. But he's - safe now, and here a' comes"—(for the chair was again lowered, and - Sir Arthur made fast in it, without much consciousness on his own part)—"here - a' comes—Bowse away, my boys! canny wi' him—a pedigree of a - hundred links is hanging on a tenpenny tow—the whole barony of - Knockwinnock depends on three plies of hemp—<i>respice finem, - respice funem</i>—look to your end—look to a rope's end.—Welcome, - welcome, my good old friend, to firm land, though I cannot say to warm - land or to dry land. A cord for ever against fifty fathom of water, though - not in the sense of the base proverb—a fico for the phrase,—better - <i>sus. per funem,</i> than <i>sus. per coll.</i>" - </p> - <p> - While Oldbuck ran on in this way, Sir Arthur was safely wrapped in the - close embraces of his daughter, who, assuming that authority which the - circumstances demanded, ordered some of the assistants to convey him to - the chariot, promising to follow in a few minutes, She lingered on the - cliff, holding an old countryman's arm, to witness probably the safety of - those whose dangers she had shared. - </p> - <p> - "What have we here?" said Oldbuck, as the vehicle once more ascended—"what - patched and weather-beaten matter is this?" Then as the torches illumed - the rough face and grey hairs of old Ochiltree,—"What! is it thou?—Come, - old Mocker, I must needs be friends with thee—but who the devil - makes up your party besides?" - </p> - <p> - "Ane that's weel worth ony twa o' us, Monkbarns;—it's the young - stranger lad they ca' Lovel—and he's behaved this blessed night as - if he had three lives to rely on, and was willing to waste them a' rather - than endanger ither folk's. Ca' hooly, sirs, as ye, wad win an auld man's - blessing!—mind there's naebody below now to haud the gy—Hae a - care o' the Cat's-lug corner—bide weel aff Crummie's-horn!" - </p> - <p> - "Have a care indeed," echoed Oldbuck. "What! is it my <i>rara avis</i>—my - black swan—my phoenix of companions in a post-chaise?—take - care of him, Mucklebackit." - </p> - <p> - "As muckle care as if he were a graybeard o' brandy; and I canna take mair - if his hair were like John Harlowe's.—Yo ho, my hearts! bowse away - with him!" - </p> - <p> - Lovel did, in fact, run a much greater risk than any of his precursors. - His weight was not sufficient to render his ascent steady amid such a - storm of wind, and he swung like an agitated pendulum at the mortal risk - of being dashed against the rocks. But he was young, bold, and active, - and, with the assistance of the beggar's stout piked staff, which he had - retained by advice of the proprietor, contrived to bear himself from the - face of the precipice, and the yet more hazardous projecting cliffs which - varied its surface. Tossed in empty space, like an idle and unsubstantial - feather, with a motion that agitated the brain at once with fear and with - dizziness, he retained his alertness of exertion and presence of mind; and - it was not until he was safely grounded upon the summit of the cliff, that - he felt temporary and giddy sickness. As he recovered from a sort of half - swoon, he cast his eyes eagerly around. The object which they would most - willingly have sought, was already in the act of vanishing. Her white - garment was just discernible as she followed on the path which her father - had taken. She had lingered till she saw the last of their company rescued - from danger, and until she had been assured by the hoarse voice of - Mucklebackit, that "the callant had come off wi' unbrizzed banes, and that - he was but in a kind of dwam." But Lovel was not aware that she had - expressed in his fate even this degree of interest,—which, though - nothing more than was due to a stranger who had assisted her in such an - hour of peril, he would have gladly purchased by braving even more - imminent danger than he had that evening been exposed to. The beggar she - had already commanded to come to Knockwinnock that night. He made an - excuse.—"Then to-morrow let me see you." - </p> - <p> - The old man promised to obey. Oldbuck thrust something into his hand—Ochiltree - looked at it by the torchlight, and returned it—"Na, na! I never tak - gowd—besides, Monkbarns, ye wad maybe be rueing it the morn." Then - turning to the group of fishermen and peasants—"Now, sirs, wha will - gie me a supper and some clean pease-strae?" - </p> - <p> - "I," "and I," "and I," answered many a ready voice. - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, since sae it is, and I can only sleep in ae barn at ance, I'll gae - down with Saunders Mucklebackit—he has aye a soup o' something - comfortable about his begging—and, bairns, I'll maybe live to put - ilka ane o' ye in mind some ither night that ye hae promised me quarters - and my awmous;" and away he went with the fisherman. - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck laid the band of strong possession on Lovel—"Deil a stride - ye's go to Fairport this night, young man—you must go home with me - to Monkbarns. Why, man, you have been a hero—a perfect Sir William - Wallace, by all accounts. Come, my good lad, take hold of my arm;—I - am not a prime support in such a wind—but Caxon shall help us out—Here, - you old idiot, come on the other side of me.—And how the deil got - you down to that infernal Bessy's-apron, as they call it? Bess, said they? - Why, curse her, she has spread out that vile pennon or banner of - womankind, like all the rest of her sex, to allure her votaries to death - and headlong ruin." - </p> - <p> - "I have been pretty well accustomed to climbing, and I have long observed - fowlers practise that pass down the cliff." - </p> - <p> - "But how, in the name of all that is wonderful, came you to discover the - danger of the pettish Baronet and his far more deserving daughter?" - </p> - <p> - "I saw them from the verge of the precipice." - </p> - <p> - "From the verge!—umph—And what possessed you <i>dumosa pendere - procul de rupe?</i>—though <i>dumosa</i> is not the appropriate - epithet—what the deil, man, tempted ye to the verge of the craig?" - </p> - <p> - "Why—I like to see the gathering and growling of a coming storm—or, - in your own classical language, Mr. Oldbuck, <i>suave mari magno</i>—and - so forth—but here we reach the turn to Fairport. I must wish you - good-night." - </p> - <p> - "Not a step, not a pace, not an inch, not a shathmont, as I may say,—the - meaning of which word has puzzled many that think themselves antiquaries. - I am clear we should read <i>salmon-length</i> for <i>shathmont's-length.</i> - You are aware that the space allotted for the passage of a salmon through - a dam, dike, or weir, by statute, is the length within which a full-grown - pig can turn himself round. Now I have a scheme to prove, that, as - terrestrial objects were thus appealed to for ascertaining submarine - measurement, so it must be supposed that the productions of the water were - established as gauges of the extent of land.—Shathmont—salmont—you - see the close alliance of the sounds; dropping out two <i>h</i>'s, and a - <i>t,</i> and assuming an <i>l,</i> makes the whole difference—I - wish to heaven no antiquarian derivation had demanded heavier - concessions." - </p> - <p> - "But, my dear sir, I really must go home—I am wet to the skin." - </p> - <p> - "Shalt have my night-gown, man, and slippers, and catch the antiquarian - fever as men do the plague, by wearing infected garments. Nay, I know what - you would be at—you are afraid to put the old bachelor to charges. - But is there not the remains of that glorious chicken-pie—which, <i>meo - arbitrio,</i> is better cold than hot—and that bottle of my oldest - port, out of which the silly brain-sick Baronet (whom I cannot pardon, - since he has escaped breaking his neck) had just taken one glass, when his - infirm noddle went a wool-gathering after Gamelyn de Guardover?" - </p> - <p> - So saying he dragged Lovel forward, till the Palmer's-port of Monkbarns - received them. Never, perhaps, had it admitted two pedestrians more - needing rest for Monkbarns's fatigue had been in a degree very contrary to - his usual habits, and his more young and robust companion had that evening - undergone agitation of mind which had harassed and wearied him even more - than his extraordinary exertions of body. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER NINTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Be brave," she cried, "you yet may be our guest, - Our haunted room was ever held the best. - If, then, your valour can the sight sustain - Of rustling curtains and the clinking chain - If your courageous tongue have powers to talk, - When round your bed the horrid ghost shall walk - If you dare ask it why it leaves its tomb, - I'll see your sheets well air'd, and show the Room." - True Story. -</pre> - <p> - They reached the room in which they had dined, and were clamorously - welcomed by Miss Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Where's the younger womankind?" said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, brother, amang a' the steery, Maria wadna be guided by me she set - away to the Halket-craig-head—I wonder ye didna see her." - </p> - <p> - "Eh!—what—what's that you say, sister?—did the girl go - out in a night like this to the Halket-head?—Good God! the misery of - the night is not ended yet!" - </p> - <p> - "But ye winna wait, Monkbarns—ye are so imperative and impatient"— - </p> - <p> - "Tittle-tattle, woman," said the impatient and agitated Antiquary, "where - is my dear Mary?" - </p> - <p> - "Just where ye suld be yoursell, Monkbarns—up-stairs, and in her - warm bed." - </p> - <p> - "I could have sworn it," said Oldbuck laughing, but obviously much - relieved—"I could have sworn it;—the lazy monkey did not care - if we were all drowned together. Why did you say she went out?" - </p> - <p> - "But ye wadna wait to hear out my tale, Monkbarns—she gaed out, and - she came in again with the gardener sae sune as she saw that nane o' ye - were clodded ower the Craig, and that Miss Wardour was safe in the - chariot; she was hame a quarter of an hour syne, for it's now ganging ten—sair - droukit was she, puir thing, sae I e'en put a glass o' sherry in her - water-gruel." - </p> - <p> - "Right, Grizel, right—let womankind alone for coddling each other. - But hear me, my venerable sister—start not at the word venerable; it - implies many praiseworthy qualities besides age; though that too is - honourable, albeit it is the last quality for which womankind would wish - to be honoured—But perpend my words: let Lovel and me have forthwith - the relics of the chicken-pie, and the reversion of the port." - </p> - <p> - "The chicken-pie! the port!—ou dear! brother—there was but a - wheen banes, and scarce a drap o' the wine." - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary's countenance became clouded, though he was too well bred to - give way, in the presence of a stranger, to his displeased surprise at the - disappearance of the viands on which he had reckoned with absolute - certainty. But his sister understood these looks of ire. "Ou dear! - Monkbarns, what's the use of making a wark?" - </p> - <p> - "I make no wark, as ye call it, woman." - </p> - <p> - "But what's the use o' looking sae glum and glunch about a pickle banes?—an - ye will hae the truth, ye maun ken the minister came in, worthy man—sair - distressed he was, nae doubt, about your precarious situation, as he ca'd - it (for ye ken how weel he's gifted wi' words), and here he wad bide till - he could hear wi' certainty how the matter was likely to gang wi' ye a'—He - said fine things on the duty of resignation to Providence's will, worthy - man! that did he." - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck replied, catching the same tone, "Worthy man!—he cared not - how soon Monkbarns had devolved on an heir-female, I've a notion;—and - while he was occupied in this Christian office of consolation against - impending evil, I reckon that the chicken-pie and my good port - disappeared?" - </p> - <p> - "Dear brother, how can you speak of sic frivolities, when you have had sic - an escape from the craig?" - </p> - <p> - "Better than my supper has had from the minister's <i>craig,</i> Grizzle—it's - all discussed, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "Hout, Monkbarns, ye speak as if there was nae mair meat in the house—wad - ye not have had me offer the honest man some slight refreshment after his - walk frae the manse?" - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck half-whistled, half-hummed, the end of the old Scottish ditty, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O, first they eated the white puddings, - And then they eated the black, O, - And thought the gudeman unto himsell, - The deil clink down wi' that, O! -</pre> - <p> - His sister hastened to silence his murmurs, by proposing some of the - relies of the dinner. He spoke of another bottle of wine, but recommended - in preference a glass of brandy which was really excellent. As no - entreaties could prevail on Lovel to indue the velvet night-cap and - branched morning-gown of his host, Oldbuck, who pretended to a little - knowledge of the medical art, insisted on his going to bed as soon as - possible, and proposed to despatch a messenger (the indefatigable Caxon) - to Fairport early in the morning, to procure him a change of clothes. - </p> - <p> - This was the first intimation Miss Oldbuck had received that the young - stranger was to be their guest for the night; and such was the surprise - with which she was struck by a proposal so uncommon, that, had the - superincumbent weight of her head-dress, such as we before described, been - less preponderant, her grey locks must have started up on end, and hurled - it from its position. - </p> - <p> - "Lord haud a care o' us!" exclaimed the astounded maiden. - </p> - <p> - "What's the matter now, Grizel?" - </p> - <p> - "Wad ye but just speak a moment, Monkbarns?" - </p> - <p> - "Speak!—what should I speak about? I want to get to my bed—and - this poor young fellow—let a bed be made ready for him instantly." - </p> - <p> - "A bed?—The Lord preserve us!" again ejaculated Grizel. - </p> - <p> - "Why, what's the matter now?—are there not beds and rooms enough in - the house?—was it not an ancient <i>hospitium,</i> in which, I am - warranted to say, beds were nightly made down for a score of pilgrims?" - </p> - <p> - "O dear, Monkbarns! wha kens what they might do lang syne?—but in - our time—beds—ay, troth, there's beds enow sic as they are—and - rooms enow too—but ye ken yoursell the beds haena been sleepit in, - Lord kens the time, nor the rooms aired.—If I had kenn'd, Mary and - me might hae gaen down to the manse—Miss Beckie is aye fond to see - us—(and sae is the minister, brother)—But now, gude save us!"— - </p> - <p> - "Is there not the Green Room, Grizel?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth is there, and it is in decent order too, though naebody has sleepit - there since Dr. Heavysterne, and"— - </p> - <p> - "And what?" - </p> - <p> - "And what! I am sure ye ken yoursell what a night he had—ye wadna - expose the young gentleman to the like o' that, wad ye?" - </p> - <p> - Lovel interfered upon hearing this altercation, and protested he would far - rather walk home than put them to the least inconvenience—that the - exercise would be of service to him—that he knew the road perfectly, - by night or day, to Fairport—that the storm was abating, and so - forth—adding all that civility could suggest as an excuse for - escaping from a hospitality which seemed more inconvenient to his host - than he could possibly have anticipated. But the howling of the wind, and - the pattering of the rain against the windows, with his knowledge of the - preceding fatigues of the evening, must have prohibited Oldbuck, even had - he entertained less regard for his young friend than he really felt, from - permitting him to depart. Besides, he was piqued in honour to show that he - himself was not governed by womankind—"Sit ye down, sit ye down, sit - ye down, man," he reiterated;—"an ye part so, I would I might never - draw a cork again, and here comes out one from a prime bottle of—strong - ale—right <i>anno domini</i>—none of your Wassia Quassia - decoctions, but brewed of Monkbarns barley—John of the Girnel never - drew a better flagon to entertain a wandering minstrel, or palmer, with - the freshest news from Palestine.—And to remove from your mind the - slightest wish to depart, know, that if you do so, your character as a - gallant knight is gone for ever. Why, 'tis an adventure, man, to sleep in - the Green Room at Monkbarns.—Sister, pray see it got ready—And, - although the bold adventurer, Heavysterne, dree'd pain and dolour in that - charmed apartment, it is no reason why a gallant knight like you, nearly - twice as tall, and not half so heavy, should not encounter and break the - spell." - </p> - <p> - "What! a haunted apartment, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "To be sure, to be sure—every mansion in this country of the - slightest antiquity has its ghosts and its haunted chamber, and you must - not suppose us worse off than our neighbours. They are going, indeed, - somewhat out of fashion. I have seen the day, when if you had doubted the - reality of a ghost in an old manor-house you ran the risk of being made a - ghost yourself, as Hamlet says.—Yes, if you had challenged the - existence of Redcowl in the Castle of Glenstirym, old Sir Peter - Pepperbrand would have had ye out to his court-yard, made you betake - yourself to your weapon, and if your trick of fence were not the better, - would have sticked you like a paddock, on his own baronial midden-stead. I - once narrowly escaped such an affray—but I humbled myself, and - apologised to Redcowl; for, even in my younger days, I was no friend to - the <i>monomachia,</i> or duel, and would rather walk with Sir Priest than - with Sir Knight—I care not who knows so much of my valour. Thank - God, I am old now, and can indulge my irritabilities without the necessity - of supporting them by cold steel." - </p> - <p> - Here Miss Oldbuck re-entered, with a singularly sage expression of - countenance.—"Mr. Lovel's bed's ready, brother—clean sheets—weel - aired—a spunk of fire in the chimney—I am sure, Mr. Lovel," - (addressing him), "it's no for the trouble—and I hope you will have - a good night's rest—But"— - </p> - <p> - "You are resolved," said the Antiquary, "to do what you can to prevent - it." - </p> - <p> - "Me?—I am sure I have said naething, Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - "My dear madam," said Lovel, "allow me to ask you the meaning of your - obliging anxiety on my account." - </p> - <p> - "Ou, Monkbarns does not like to hear of it—but he kens himsell that - the room has an ill name. It's weel minded that it was there auld Rab Tull - the town-clerk was sleeping when he had that marvellous communication - about the grand law-plea between us and the feuars at the Mussel-craig. - —It had cost a hantle siller, Mr. Lovel; for law-pleas were no - carried on without siller lang syne mair than they are now—and the - Monkbarns of that day—our gudesire, Mr. Lovel, as I said before—was - like to be waured afore the Session for want of a paper—Monkbarns - there kens weel what paper it was, but I'se warrant he'll no help me out - wi' my tale—but it was a paper of great significance to the plea, - and we were to be waured for want o't. Aweel, the cause was to come on - before the fifteen—in presence, as they ca't—and auld Rab - Tull, the town-clerk, he cam ower to make a last search for the paper that - was wanting, before our gudesire gaed into Edinburgh to look after his - plea—so there was little time to come and gang on. He was but a - doited snuffy body, Rab, as I've heard —but then he was the - town-clerk of Fairport, and the Monkbarns heritors aye employed him on - account of their connection wi' the burgh, ye ken." - </p> - <p> - "Sister Grizel, this is abominable," interrupted Oldbuck; "I vow to Heaven - ye might have raised the ghosts of every abbot of Trotcosey, since the - days of Waldimir, in the time you have been detailing the introduction to - this single spectre.—Learn to be succinct in your narrative.—Imitate - the concise style of old Aubrey, an experienced ghost-seer, who entered - his memoranda on these subjects in a terse business-like manner; <i>exempli - gratia</i>—At Cirencester, 5th March, 1670, was an apparition.—Being - demanded whether good spirit or bad, made no answer, but instantly - disappeared with a curious perfume, and a melodious twang'—<i>Vide</i> - his Miscellanies, p. eighteen, as well as I can remember, and near the - middle of the page." - </p> - <p> - "O, Monkbarns, man! do ye think everybody is as book-learned as yoursell?—But - ye like to gar folk look like fools—ye can do that to Sir Arthur, - and the minister his very sell." - </p> - <p> - "Nature has been beforehand with me, Grizel, in both these instances, and - in another which shall be nameless—but take a glass of ale, Grizel, - and proceed with your story, for it waxes late." - </p> - <p> - "Jenny's just warming your bed, Monkbarns, and ye maun e'en wait till - she's done.—Weel, I was at the search that our gudesire, Monkbarns - that then was, made wi' auld Rab Tull's assistance;—but - ne'er-be-licket could they find that was to their purpose. And sae after - they had touzled out mony a leather poke-full o' papers, the town-clerk - had his drap punch at e'en to wash the dust out of his throat—we - never were glass-breakers in this house, Mr. Lovel, but the body had got - sic a trick of sippling and tippling wi' the bailies and deacons when they - met (which was amaist ilka night) concerning the common gude o' the burgh, - that he couldna weel sleep without it—But his punch he gat, and to - bed he gaed; and in the middle of the night he got a fearfu' wakening!—he - was never just himsell after it, and he was strucken wi' the dead palsy - that very day four years. He thought, Mr. Lovel, that he heard the - curtains o' his bed fissil, and out he lookit, fancying, puir man, it - might hae been the cat—But he saw—God hae a care o' us! it - gars my flesh aye creep, though I hae tauld the story twenty times—he - saw a weel-fa'ard auld gentleman standing by his bedside, in the - moonlight, in a queer-fashioned dress, wi' mony a button and band-string - about it, and that part o' his garments which it does not become a leddy - to particulareeze, was baith side and wide, and as mony plies o't as of - ony Hamburgh skipper's—He had a beard too, and whiskers turned - upwards on his upper-lip, as lang as baudrons'—and mony mair - particulars there were that Rab Tull tauld o', but they are forgotten now—it's - an auld story. Aweel, Rab was a just-living man for a country writer—and - he was less feared than maybe might just hae been expected; and he asked - in the name o' goodness what the apparition wanted—and the spirit - answered in an unknown tongue. Then Rab said he tried him wi' Erse, for he - cam in his youth frae the braes of Glenlivat—but it wadna do. Aweel, - in this strait, he bethought him of the twa or three words o' Latin that - he used in making out the town's deeds, and he had nae sooner tried the - spirit wi' that, than out cam sic a blatter o' Latin about his lugs, that - poor Rab Tull, wha was nae great scholar, was clean overwhelmed. Od, but - he was a bauld body, and he minded the Latin name for the deed that he was - wanting. It was something about a cart, I fancy, for the ghaist cried aye, - <i>Carter, carter</i>—" - </p> - <p> - "<i>Carta,</i> you transformer of languages!" cried Oldbuck;—"if my - ancestor had learned no other language in the other world, at least he - would not forget the Latinity for which he was so famous while in this." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, weel, <i>carta</i> be it then, but they ca'd it <i>carter</i> that - tell'd me the story. It cried aye <i>carta,</i> if sae be that it was <i>carta,</i> - and made a sign to Rab to follow it. Rab Tull keepit a Highland heart, and - banged out o' bed, and till some of his readiest claes—and he did - follow the thing up stairs and down stairs to the place we ca' the high - dow-cot—(a sort of a little tower in the corner of the auld house, - where there was a Rickle o' useless boxes and trunks)—and there the - ghaist gae Rab a kick wi' the tae foot, and a kick wi' the tother, to that - very auld east-country tabernacle of a cabinet that my brother has - standing beside his library table, and then disappeared like a fuff o' - tobacco, leaving Rab in a very pitiful condition." - </p> - <p> - "<i>Tenues secessit in auras,</i>" quoth Oldbuck. "Marry, sir, <i>mansit - odor</i>—But, sure enough, the deed was there found in a drawer of - this forgotten repository, which contained many other curious old papers, - now properly labelled and arranged, and which seemed to have belonged to - my ancestor, the first possessor of Monkbarns. The deed, thus strangely - recovered, was the original Charter of Erection of the Abbey, Abbey Lands, - and so forth, of Trotcosey, comprehending Monkbarns and others, into a - Lordship of Regality in favour of the first Earl of Glengibber, a - favourite of James the Sixth. It is subscribed by the King at Westminster, - the seventeenth day of January, A. D. one thousand six hundred and twelve—thirteen. - It's not worth while to repeat the witnesses' names." - </p> - <p> - "I would rather," said Lovel with awakened curiosity, "I would rather hear - your opinion of the way in which the deed was discovered." - </p> - <p> - "Why, if I wanted a patron for my legend, I could find no less a one than - Saint Augustine, who tells the story of a deceased person appearing to his - son, when sued for a debt which had been paid, and directing him where, to - find the discharge.* - </p> - <p> - *Note D. Mr. Rutherford's dream. - </p> - <p> - But I rather opine with Lord Bacon, who says that imagination is much akin - to miracle-working faith. There was always some idle story of the room - being haunted by the spirit of Aldobrand Oldenbuck, my - great-great-great-grandfather—it's a shame to the English language - that, we have not a less clumsy way of expressing a relationship of which - we have occasion to think and speak so frequently. He was a foreigner, and - wore his national dress, of which tradition had preserved an accurate - description; and indeed there is a print of him, supposed to be by - Reginald Elstracke, pulling the press with his own hand, as it works off - the sheets of his scarce edition of the Augsburg Confession. He was a - chemist as well as a good mechanic, and either of these qualities in this - country was at that time sufficient to constitute a white witch at least. - This superstitious old writer had heard all this, and probably believed - it, and in his sleep the image and idea of my ancestor recalled that of - his cabinet, which, with the grateful attention to antiquities and the - memory of our ancestors not unusually met with, had been pushed into the - pigeon-house to be out of the way—Add a <i>quantum sufficit</i> of - exaggeration, and you have a key to the whole mystery." - </p> - <p> - "O brother! brother! but Dr. Heavysterne, brother—whose sleep was so - sore broken, that he declared he wadna pass another night in the Green - Room to get all Monkbarns, so that Mary and I were forced to yield our"— - </p> - <p> - "Why, Grizel, the doctor is a good, honest, pudding-headed German, of much - merit in his own way, but fond of the mystical, like many of his - countrymen. You and he had a traffic the whole evening in which you - received tales of Mesmer, Shropfer, Cagliostro, and other modern - pretenders to the mystery of raising spirits, discovering hidden treasure, - and so forth, in exchange for your legends of the green bedchamber;—and - considering that the <i>Illustrissimus</i> ate a pound and a half of - Scotch collops to supper, smoked six pipes, and drank ale and brandy in - proportion, I am not surprised at his having a fit of the night-mare. But - everything is now ready. Permit me to light you to your apartment, Mr. - Lovel—I am sure you have need of rest—and I trust my ancestor - is too sensible of the duties of hospitality to interfere with the repose - which you have so well merited by your manly and gallant behaviour." - </p> - <p> - So saying, the Antiquary took up a bedroom candlestick of massive silver - and antique form, which, he observed, was wrought out of the silver found - in the mines of the Harz mountains, and had been the property of the very - personage who had supplied them with a subject for conversation. And - having so said, he led the way through many a dusky and winding passage, - now ascending, and anon descending again, until he came to the apartment - destined for his young guest. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When midnight o'er the moonless skies - Her pall of transient death has spread, - When mortals sleep, when spectres rise, - And none are wakeful but the dead; - No bloodless shape my way pursues, - No sheeted ghost my couch annoys, - Visions more sad my fancy views,— - Visions of long departed joys. - W. R. Spenser. -</pre> - <p> - When they reached the Green Room, as it was called, Oldbuck placed the - candle on the toilet table, before a huge mirror with a black japanned - frame, surrounded by dressing-boxes of the same, and looked around him - with something of a disturbed expression of countenance. "I am seldom in - this apartment," he said, "and never without yielding to a melancholy - feeling—not, of course, on account of the childish nonsense that - Grizel was telling you, but owing to circumstances of an early and unhappy - attachment. It is at such moments as these, Mr. Lovel, that we feel the - changes of time. The same objects are before us—those inanimate - things which we have gazed on in wayward infancy and impetuous youth, in - anxious and scheming manhood—they are permanent and the same; but - when we look upon them in cold unfeeling old age, can we, changed in our - temper, our pursuits, our feelings—changed in our form, our limbs, - and our strength,—can we be ourselves called the same? or do we not - rather look back with a sort of wonder upon our former selves, as being - separate and distinct from what we now are? The philosopher who appealed - from Philip inflamed with wine to Philip in his hours of sobriety, did not - choose a judge so different, as if he had appealed from Philip in his - youth to Philip in his old age. I cannot but be touched with the feeling - so beautifully expressed in a poem which I have heard repeated:* - </p> - <p> - *Probably Wordsworth's Lyrical Ballads had not as yet been published. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My eyes are dim with childish tears, - My heart is idly stirred, - For the same sound is in my ears - Which in those days I heard. - - Thus fares it still in our decay; - And yet the wiser mind - Mourns less for what time takes away, - Than what he leaves behind. -</pre> - <p> - Well, time cures every wound, and though the scar may remain and - occasionally ache, yet the earliest agony of its recent infliction is felt - no more."—So saying, he shook Lovel cordially by the hand, wished - him good-night, and took his leave. - </p> - <p> - Step after step Lovel could trace his host's retreat along the various - passages, and each door which he closed behind him fell with a sound more - distant and dead. The guest, thus separated from the living world, took up - the candle and surveyed the apartment. - </p> - <p> - The fire blazed cheerfully. Mrs. Grizel's attention had left some fresh - wood, should he choose to continue it, and the apartment had a - comfortable, though not a lively appearance. It was hung with tapestry, - which the looms of Arras had produced in the sixteenth century, and which - the learned typographer, so often mentioned, had brought with him as a - sample of the arts of the Continent. The subject was a hunting-piece; and - as the leafy boughs of the forest-trees, branching over the tapestry, - formed the predominant colour, the apartment had thence acquired its name - of the Green Chamber. Grim figures in the old Flemish dress, with slashed - doublets covered with ribbands, short cloaks, and trunk-hose, were engaged - in holding grey-hounds, or stag-hounds, in the leash, or cheering them - upon the objects of their game. Others, with boar-spears, swords, and - old-fashioned guns, were attacking stags or boars whom they had brought to - bay. The branches of the woven forest were crowded with fowls of various - kinds, each depicted with its proper plumage. It seemed as if the prolific - and rich invention of old Chaucer had animated the Flemish artist with its - profusion, and Oldbuck had accordingly caused the following verses, from - that ancient and excellent poet, to be embroidered in Gothic letters, on a - sort of border which he had added to the tapestry:- - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Lo! here be oakis grete, streight as a line, - Under the which the grass, so fresh of line, - Be'th newly sprung—at eight foot or nine. - Everich tree well from his fellow grew, - With branches broad laden with leaves new, - That sprongen out against the sonne sheene, - Some golden red and some a glad bright green. -</pre> - <p> - And in another canton was the following similar legend:— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - And many an hart and many an hind, - Was both before me, and behind. - Of fawns, sownders, bucks and does, - Was full the wood and many roes, - And many squirrels that ysate - High on the trees and nuts ate. -</pre> - <p> - The bed was of a dark and faded green, wrought to correspond with the - tapestry, but by a more modern and less skilful hand. The large and heavy - stuff-bottomed chairs, with black ebony backs, were embroidered after the - same pattern, and a lofty mirror, over the antique chimney-piece, - corresponded in its mounting with that on the old-fashioned toilet. - </p> - <p> - "I have heard," muttered Lovel, as he took a cursory view of the room and - its furniture, "that ghosts often chose the best room in the mansion to - which they attached themselves; and I cannot disapprove of the taste of - the disembodied printer of the Augsburg Confession." But he found it so - difficult to fix his mind upon the stories which had been told him of an - apartment with which they seemed so singularly to correspond, that he - almost regretted the absence of those agitated feelings, half fear half - curiosity, which sympathise with the old legends of awe and wonder, from - which the anxious reality of his own hopeless passion at present detached - him. For he now only felt emotions like those expressed in the lines,— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ah! cruel maid, how hast thou changed - The temper of my mind! - My heart, by thee from all estranged, - Becomes like thee unkind. -</pre> - <p> - He endeavoured to conjure up something like the feelings which would, at - another time, have been congenial to his situation, but his heart had no - room for these vagaries of imagination. The recollection of Miss Wardour, - determined not to acknowledge him when compelled to endure his society, - and evincing her purpose to escape from it, would have alone occupied his - imagination exclusively. But with this were united recollections more - agitating if less painful,—her hair-breadth escape—the - fortunate assistance which he had been able to render her—Yet what - was his requital? She left the cliff while his fate was yet doubtful—while - it was uncertain whether her preserver had not lost the life which he had - exposed for her so freely. Surely gratitude, at least, called for some - little interest in his fate—But no—she could not be selfish or - unjust—it was no part of her nature. She only desired to shut the - door against hope, and, even in compassion to him, to extinguish a passion - which she could never return. - </p> - <p> - But this lover-like mode of reasoning was not likely to reconcile him to - his fate, since the more amiable his imagination presented Miss Wardour, - the more inconsolable he felt he should be rendered by the extinction of - his hopes. He was, indeed, conscious of possessing the power of removing - her prejudices on some points; but, even in extremity, he determined to - keep the original determination which he had formed, of ascertaining that - she desired an explanation, ere he intruded one upon her. And, turn the - matter as he would, he could not regard his suit as desperate. There was - something of embarrassment as well as of grave surprise in her look when - Oldbuck presented him—and, perhaps, upon second thoughts, the one - was assumed to cover the other. He would not relinquish a pursuit which - had already cost him such pains. Plans, suiting the romantic temper of the - brain that entertained them, chased each other through his head, thick and - irregular as the motes of the sun-beam, and, long after he had laid - himself to rest, continued to prevent the repose which he greatly needed. - Then, wearied by the uncertainty and difficulties with which each scheme - appeared to be attended, he bent up his mind to the strong effort of - shaking off his love, "like dew-drops from the lion's mane," and resuming - those studies and that career of life which his unrequited affection had - so long and so fruitlessly interrupted. In this last resolution he - endeavoured to fortify himself by every argument which pride, as well as - reason, could suggest. "She shall not suppose," he said, "that, presuming - on an accidental service to her or to her father, I am desirous to intrude - myself upon that notice, to which, personally, she considered me as having - no title. I will see her no more. I will return to the land which, if it - affords none fairer, has at least many as fair, and less haughty than Miss - Wardour. Tomorrow I will bid adieu to these northern shores, and to her - who is as cold and relentless as her climate." When he had for some time - brooded over this sturdy resolution, exhausted nature at length gave way, - and, despite of wrath, doubt, and anxiety, he sank into slumber. - </p> - <p> - It is seldom that sleep, after such violent agitation, is either sound or - refreshing. Lovel's was disturbed by a thousand baseless and confused - visions. He was a bird—he was a fish—or he flew like the one, - and swam like the other,—qualities which would have been very - essential to his safety a few hours before. Then Miss Wardour was a syren, - or a bird of Paradise; her father a triton, or a sea-gull; and Oldbuck - alternately a porpoise and a cormorant. These agreeable imaginations were - varied by all the usual vagaries of a feverish dream;—the air - refused to bear the visionary, the water seemed to burn him—the - rocks felt like down pillows as he was dashed against them—whatever - he undertook, failed in some strange and unexpected manner—and - whatever attracted his attention, underwent, as he attempted to - investigate it, some wild and wonderful metamorphosis, while his mind - continued all the while in some degree conscious of the delusion, from - which it in vain struggled to free itself by awaking;—feverish - symptoms all, with which those who are haunted by the night-hag, whom the - learned call Ephialtes, are but too well acquainted. At length these crude - phantasmata arranged themselves into something more regular, if indeed the - imagination of Lovel, after he awoke (for it was by no means the faculty - in which his mind was least rich), did not gradually, insensibly, and - unintentionally, arrange in better order the scene of which his sleep - presented, it may be, a less distinct outline. Or it is possible that his - feverish agitation may have assisted him in forming the vision. - </p> - <p> - Leaving this discussion to the learned, we will say, that after a - succession of wild images, such as we have above described, our hero, for - such we must acknowledge him, so far regained a consciousness of locality - as to remember where he was, and the whole furniture of the Green Chamber - was depicted to his slumbering eye. And here, once more, let me protest, - that if there should be so much old-fashioned faith left among this shrewd - and sceptical generation, as to suppose that what follows was an - impression conveyed rather by the eye than by the imagination, I do not - impugn their doctrine. He was, then, or imagined himself, broad awake in - the Green Chamber, gazing upon the flickering and occasional flame which - the unconsumed remnants of the faggots sent forth, as, one by one, they - fell down upon the red embers, into which the principal part of the boughs - to which they belonged had crumbled away. Insensibly the legend of - Aldobrand Oldenbuck, and his mysterious visits to the inmates of the - chamber, awoke in his mind, and with it, as we often feel in dreams, an - anxious and fearful expectation, which seldom fails instantly to summon up - before our mind's eye the object of our fear. Brighter sparkles of light - flashed from the chimney, with such intense brilliancy as to enlighten all - the room. The tapestry waved wildly on the wall, till its dusky forms - seemed to become animated. The hunters blew their horns—the stag - seemed to fly, the boar to resist, and the hounds to assail the one and - pursue the other; the cry of deer, mangled by throttling dogs—the - shouts of men, and the clatter of horses' hoofs, seemed at once to - surround him—while every group pursued, with all the fury of the - chase, the employment in which the artist had represented them as engaged. - Lovel looked on this strange scene devoid of wonder (which seldom intrudes - itself upon the sleeping fancy), but with an anxious sensation of awful - fear. At length an individual figure among the tissued huntsmen, as he - gazed upon them more fixedly, seemed to leave the arras and to approach - the bed of the slumberer. As he drew near, his figure appeared to alter. - His bugle-horn became a brazen clasped volume; his hunting-cap changed to - such a furred head-gear as graces the burgomasters of Rembrandt; his - Flemish garb remained but his features, no longer agitated with the fury - of the chase, were changed to such a state of awful and stern composure, - as might best portray the first proprietor of Monkbarns, such as he had - been described to Lovel by his descendants in the course of the preceding - evening. As this metamorphosis took place, the hubbub among the other - personages in the arras disappeared from the imagination of the dreamer, - which was now exclusively bent on the single figure before him. Lovel - strove to interrogate this awful person in the form of exorcism proper for - the occasion; but his tongue, as is usual in frightful dreams, refused its - office, and clung, palsied, to the roof of his mouth. Aldobrand held up - his finger, as if to impose silence upon the guest who had intruded on his - apartment, and began deliberately to unclasp the venerable, volume which - occupied his left hand. When it was unfolded, he turned over the leaves - hastily for a short space, and then raising his figure to its full - dimensions, and holding the book aloft in his left hand, pointed to a - passage in the page which he thus displayed. Although the language was - unknown to our dreamer, his eye and attention were both strongly caught by - the line which the figure seemed thus to press upon his notice, the words - of which appeared to blaze with a supernatural light, and remained riveted - upon his memory. As the vision shut his volume, a strain of delightful - music seemed to fill the apartment—Lovel started, and became - completely awake. The music, however, was still in his ears, nor ceased - till he could distinctly follow the measure of an old Scottish tune. - </p> - <p> - He sate up in bed, and endeavoured to clear his brain of the phantoms - which had disturbed it during this weary night. The beams of the morning - sun streamed through the half-closed shutters, and admitted a distinct - light into the apartment. He looked round upon the hangings,—but the - mixed groups of silken and worsted huntsmen were as stationary as - tenter-hooks could make them, and only trembled slightly as the early - breeze, which found its way through an open crevice of the latticed - window, glided along their surface. Lovel leapt out of bed, and, wrapping - himself in a morning-gown, that had been considerately laid by his - bedside, stepped towards the window, which commanded a view of the sea, - the roar of whose billows announced it still disquieted by the storm of - the preceding evening, although the morning was fair and serene. The - window of a turret, which projected at an angle with the wall, and thus - came to be very near Lovel's apartment, was half-open, and from that - quarter he heard again the same music which had probably broken short his - dream. With its visionary character it had lost much of its charms—it - was now nothing more than an air on the harpsichord, tolerably well - performed—such is the caprice of imagination as affecting the fine - arts. A female voice sung, with some taste and great simplicity, something - between a song and a hymn, in words to the following effect:— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Why sitt'st thou by that ruin'd hall, - Thou aged carle so stern and grey? - Dost thou its former pride recall, - Or ponder how it passed away? - - "Know'st thou not me!" the Deep Voice cried, - "So long enjoyed, so oft misused— - Alternate, in thy fickle pride, - Desired, neglected, and accused? - - "Before my breath, like, blazing flax, - Man and his marvels pass away; - And changing empires wane and wax, - Are founded, flourish and decay. - - "Redeem mine hours—the space is brief— - While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, - And measureless thy joy or grief, - When Time and thou shalt part for ever!" -</pre> - <p> - While the verses were yet singing, Lovel had returned to his bed; the - train of ideas which they awakened was romantic and pleasing, such as his - soul delighted in, and, willingly adjourning till more broad day the - doubtful task of determining on his future line of conduct, he abandoned - himself to the pleasing languor inspired by the music, and fell into a - sound and refreshing sleep, from which he was only awakened at a late hour - by old Caxon, who came creeping into the room to render the offices of a - valet-de-chambre. - </p> - <p> - "I have brushed your coat, sir," said the old man, when he perceived Lovel - was awake; "the callant brought it frae Fairport this morning, for that ye - had on yesterday is scantly feasibly dry, though it's been a' night at the - kitchen fire; and I hae cleaned your shoon. I doubt ye'll no be wanting me - to tie your hair, for" (with a gentle sigh) "a' the young gentlemen wear - crops now; but I hae the curling tangs here to gie it a bit turn ower the - brow, if ye like, before ye gae down to the leddies." - </p> - <p> - Lovel, who was by this time once more on his legs, declined the old man's - professional offices, but accompanied the refusal with such a douceur as - completely sweetened Caxon's mortification. - </p> - <p> - "It's a pity he disna get his hair tied and pouthered," said the ancient - friseur, when he had got once more into the kitchen, in which, on one - pretence or other, he spent three parts of his idle time—that is to - say, of his <i>whole</i> time—"it's a great pity, for he's a comely - young gentleman." - </p> - <p> - "Hout awa, ye auld gowk," said Jenny Rintherout, "would ye creesh his - bonny brown hair wi' your nasty ulyie, and then moust it like the auld - minister's wig? Ye'll be for your breakfast, I'se warrant?—hae, - there's a soup parritch for ye—it will set ye better tae be - slaistering at them and the lapper-milk than meddling wi' Mr. Lovel's head—ye - wad spoil the maist natural and beautifaest head o' hair in a' Fairport, - baith burgh and county." - </p> - <p> - The poor barber sighed over the disrespect into which his art had so - universally fallen, but Jenny was a person too important to offend by - contradiction; so, sitting quietly down in the kitchen, he digested at - once his humiliation, and the contents of a bicker which held a Scotch - pint of substantial oatmeal porridge. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER ELEVENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sometimes he thinks that Heaven this pageant sent, - And ordered all the pageants as they went; - Sometimes that only 'twas wild Fancy's play,— - The loose and scattered relics of the day. -</pre> - <p> - We must now request our readers to adjourn to the breakfast parlour of Mr. - Oldbuck, who, despising the modern slops of tea and coffee, was - substantially regaling himself, <i>more majorum,</i> with cold roast-beef, - and a glass of a sort of beverage called <i>mum</i>—a species of fat - ale, brewed from wheat and bitter herbs, of which the present generation - only know the name by its occurrence in revenue acts of parliament, - coupled with cider, perry, and other excisable commodities. Lovel, who was - seduced to taste it, with difficulty refrained from pronouncing it - detestable, but <i>did</i> refrain, as he saw he should otherwise give - great offence to his host, who had the liquor annually prepared with - peculiar care, according to the approved recipe bequeathed to him by the - so-often mentioned Aldobrand Oldenbuck. The hospitality of the ladies - offered Lovel a breakfast more suited to modern taste, and while he was - engaged in partaking of it, he was assailed by indirect inquiries - concerning the manner in which he had passed the night. - </p> - <p> - "We canna compliment Mr. Lovel on his looks this morning, brother—but - he winna condescend on any ground of disturbance he has had in the night - time. I am certain he looks very pale, and when he came here he was as - fresh as a rose." - </p> - <p> - "Why, sister, consider this rose of yours has been knocked about by sea - and wind all yesterday evening, as if he had been a bunch of kelp or - tangle, and how the devil would you have him retain his colour?" - </p> - <p> - "I certainly do still feel somewhat fatigued," said Lovel, - "notwithstanding the excellent accommodations with which your hospitality - so amply supplied me." - </p> - <p> - "Ah, sir!" said Miss Oldbuck looking at him with a knowing smile, or what - was meant to be one, "ye'll not allow of ony inconvenience, out of - civility to us." - </p> - <p> - "Really, madam," replied Lovel, "I had no disturbance; for I cannot term - such the music with which some kind fairy favoured me." - </p> - <p> - "I doubted Mary wad waken you wi' her skreighing; she dinna ken I had left - open a chink of your window, for, forbye the ghaist, the Green Room disna - vent weel in a high wind—But I am judging ye heard mair than Mary's - lilts yestreen. Weel, men are hardy creatures—they can gae through - wi' a' thing. I am sure, had I been to undergo ony thing of that nature,—that's - to say that's beyond nature—I would hae skreigh'd out at once, and - raised the house, be the consequence what liket—and, I dare say, the - minister wad hae done as mickle, and sae I hae tauld him,—I ken - naebody but my brother, Monkbarns himsell, wad gae through the like o't, - if, indeed, it binna you, Mr. Lovel." - </p> - <p> - "A man of Mr. Oldbuck's learning, madam," answered the questioned party, - "would not be exposed to the inconvenience sustained by the Highland - gentleman you mentioned last night." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay—ye understand now where the difficulty lies. Language? he - has ways o' his ain wad banish a' thae sort o' worricows as far as the - hindermost parts of Gideon" (meaning possibly Midian), "as Mr. Blattergowl - says—only ane widna be uncivil to ane's forbear, though he be a - ghaist. I am sure I will try that receipt of yours, brother, that ye - showed me in a book, if onybody is to sleep in that room again, though I - think, in Christian charity, ye should rather fit up the matted-room—it's - a wee damp and dark, to be sure, but then we hae sae seldom occasion for a - spare bed." - </p> - <p> - "No, no, sister;—dampness and darkness are worse than spectres—ours - are spirits of light, and I would rather have you try the spell." - </p> - <p> - "I will do that blythely, Monkbarns, an I had the ingredients, as my - cookery book ca's them—There was <i>vervain</i> and <i>dill</i>—I - mind that—Davie Dibble will ken about them, though, maybe, he'll gie - them Latin names—and Peppercorn, we hae walth o' them, for"— - </p> - <p> - "Hypericon, thou foolish woman!" thundered Oldbuck; "d'ye suppose you're - making a haggis—or do you think that a spirit, though he be formed - of air, can be expelled by a receipt against wind?—This wise Grizel - of mine, Mr. Lovel, recollects (with what accuracy you may judge) a charm - which I once mentioned to her, and which, happening to hit her - superstitious noddle, she remembers better than anything tending to a - useful purpose, I may chance to have said for this ten years. But many an - old woman besides herself"— - </p> - <p> - "Auld woman, Monkbarns!" said Miss Oldbuck, roused something above her - usual submissive tone; "ye really are less than civil to me." - </p> - <p> - "Not less than just, Grizel: however, I include in the same class many a - sounding name, from Jamblichus down to Aubrey, who have wasted their time - in devising imaginary remedies for non-existing diseases.—But I - hope, my young friend, that, charmed or uncharmed—secured by the - potency of Hypericon, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - With vervain and with dill, - That hinder witches of their will, -</pre> - <p> - or left disarmed and defenceless to the inroads of the invisible world, - you will give another night to the terrors of the haunted apartment, and - another day to your faithful and feal friends." - </p> - <p> - "I heartily wish I could, but"— - </p> - <p> - "Nay, but me no <i>buts</i>—I have set my heart upon it." - </p> - <p> - "I am greatly obliged, my dear sir, but"— - </p> - <p> - "Look ye there, now—<i>but</i> again!—I hate <i>but;</i> I - know no form of expression in which he can appear, that is amiable, - excepting as a <i>butt</i> of sack. But is to me a more detestable - combination of letters than <i>no</i> itself.<i>No</i> is a surly, honest - fellow—speaks his mind rough and round at once. <i>But</i> is a - sneaking, evasive, half-bred, exceptuous sort of a conjunction, which - comes to pull away the cup just when it is at your lips— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —it does allay - The good precedent—fie upon <i>but yet!</i> - <i>But yet</i> is as a jailor to bring forth - Some monstrous malefactor." -</pre> - <p> - "Well, then," answered Lovel, whose motions were really undetermined at - the moment, "you shall not connect the recollection of my name with so - churlish a particle. I must soon think of leaving Fairport, I am afraid—and - I will, since you are good enough to wish it, take this opportunity of - spending another day here." - </p> - <p> - "And you shall be rewarded, my boy. First, you shall see John o' the - Girnel's grave, and then we'll walk gently along the sands, the state of - the tide being first ascertained (for we will have no more Peter Wilkins' - adventures, no more Glum and Gawrie work), as far as Knockwinnock Castle, - and inquire after the old knight and my fair foe—which will but be - barely civil, and then"— - </p> - <p> - "I beg pardon, my dear sir; but, perhaps, you had better adjourn your - visit till to-morrow—I am a stranger, you know." - </p> - <p> - "And are, therefore, the more bound to show civility, I should suppose. - But I beg your pardon for mentioning a word that perhaps belongs only to a - collector of antiquities—I am one of the old school, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When courtiers galloped o'er four counties - The ball's fair partner to behold, - And humbly hope she caught no cold." -</pre> - <p> - "Why, if—if—if you thought it would be expected—but I - believe I had better stay." - </p> - <p> - "Nay, nay, my good friend, I am not so old-fashioned as to press you to - what is disagreeable, neither—it is sufficient that I see there is - some <i>remora,</i> some cause of delay, some mid impediment, which I have - no title to inquire into. Or you are still somewhat tired, perhaps;—I - warrant I find means to entertain your intellects without fatiguing your - limbs—I am no friend to violent exertion myself—a walk in the - garden once a-day is exercise, enough for any thinking being—none - but a fool or a fox-hunter would require more. Well, what shall we set - about?—my Essay on Castrametation—but I have that in <i>petto</i> - for our afternoon cordial;—or I will show you the controversy upon - Ossian's Poems between Mac-Cribb and me. I hold with the acute Orcadian—he - with the defenders of the authenticity;—the controversy began in - smooth, oily, lady-like terms, but is now waxing more sour and eager as we - get on—it already partakes somewhat of old Scaliger's style. I fear - the rogue will get some scent of that story of Ochiltree's—but at - worst, I have a hard repartee for him on the affair of the abstracted - Antigonus—I will show you his last epistle and the scroll of my - answer—egad, it is a trimmer!" - </p> - <p> - So saying, the Antiquary opened a drawer, and began rummaging among a - quantity of miscellaneous papers, ancient and modern. But it was the - misfortune of this learned gentleman, as it may be that of many learned - and unlearned, that he frequently experienced, on such occasions, what - Harlequin calls <i>l'embarras des richesses;</i> in other words, the - abundance of his collection often prevented him from finding the article - he sought for. "Curse the papers!—I believe," said Oldbuck, as he - shuffled them to and fro—"I believe they make themselves wings like - grasshoppers, and fly away bodily—but here, in the meanwhile, look - at that little treasure." So saying, he put into his hand a case made of - oak, fenced at the corner with silver roses and studs—"Pr'ythee, - undo this button," said he, as he observed Lovel fumbling at the clasp. He - did so,—the lid opened, and discovered a thin quarto, curiously - bound in black shagreen—"There, Mr. Lovel—there is the work I - mentioned to you last night—the rare quarto of the Augsburg - Confession, the foundation at once and the bulwark of the Reformation - drawn up by the learned and venerable Melancthon, defended by the Elector - of Saxony, and the other valiant hearts who stood up for their faith, even - against the front of a powerful and victorious emperor, and imprinted by - the scarcely less venerable and praiseworthy Aldobrand Oldenbuck, my happy - progenitor, during the yet more tyrannical attempts of Philip II. to - suppress at once civil and religious liberty. Yes, sir—for printing - this work, that eminent man was expelled from his ungrateful country, and - driven to establish his household gods even here at Monkbarns, among the - ruins of papal superstition and domination.—Look upon his venerable - effigies, Mr. Lovel, and respect the honourable occupation in which it - presents him, as labouring personally at the press for the diffusion of - Christian and political knowledge.—And see here his favourite motto, - expressive of his independence and self- reliance, which scorned to owe - anything to patronage that was not earned by desert—expressive also - of that firmness of mind and tenacity of purpose recommended by Horace. He - was indeed a man who would have stood firm, had his whole printing-house, - presses, fonts, forms, great and small pica, been shivered to pieces - around him—Read, I say, his motto,—for each printer had his - motto, or device, when that illustrious art was first practised. My - ancestor's was expressed, as you see, in the Teutonic phrase, Kunst macht - Gunst—that is, skill, or prudence, in availing ourselves of our - natural talents and advantages, will compel favour and patronage, even - where it is withheld from prejudice or ignorance." - </p> - <p> - "And that," said Lovel, after a moment's thoughtful silence—"that, - then, is the meaning of these German words?" - </p> - <p> - "Unquestionably. You perceive the appropriate application to a - consciousness of inward worth, and of eminence in a useful and honourable - art.—Each printer in those days, as I have already informed you, had - his device, his impresa, as I may call it, in the same manner as the - doughty chivalry of the age, who frequented tilt and tournament. My - ancestor boasted as much in his, as if he had displayed it over a - conquered field of battle, though it betokened the diffusion of knowledge, - not the effusion of blood. And yet there is a family tradition which - affirms him to have chosen it from a more romantic circumstance." - </p> - <p> - "And what is that said to have been, my good sir?" inquired his young - friend. - </p> - <p> - "Why, it rather encroaches on my respected predecessor's fame for prudence - and wisdom—<i>Sed semel insanivimus omnes</i>—everybody has - played the fool in their turn. It is said, my ancestor, during his - apprenticeship with the descendant of old Faust, whom popular tradition - hath sent to the devil under the name of Faustus, was attracted by a - paltry slip of womankind, his master's daughter, called Bertha—they - broke rings, or went through some idiotical ceremony, as is usual on such - idle occasions as the plighting of a true-love troth, and Aldobrand set - out on his journey through Germany, as became an honest <i>hand-werker;</i> - for such was the custom of mechanics at that time, to make a tour through - the empire, and work at their trade for a time in each of the most eminent - towns, before they finally settled themselves for life. It was a wise - custom; for, as such travellers were received like brethren in each town - by those of their own handicraft, they were sure, in every case, to have - the means either of gaining or communicating knowledge. When my ancestor - returned to Nuremburg, he is said to have found his old master newly dead, - and two or three gallant young suitors, some of them half-starved sprigs - of nobility forsooth, in pursuit of the <i>Yung-fraw</i> Bertha, whose - father was understood to have bequeathed her a dowry which might weigh - against sixteen armorial quarters. But Bertha, not a bad sample of - womankind, had made a vow she would only marry that man who would work her - father's press. The skill, at that time, was as rare as wonderful; besides - that the expedient rid her at once of most of her <i>gentle</i> suitors, - who would have as soon wielded a conjuring wand as a composing stick. Some - of the more ordinary typographers made the attempt: but none were - sufficiently possessed of the mystery—But I tire you." - </p> - <p> - "By no means; pray, proceed, Mr. Oldbuck—I listen with uncommon - interest." - </p> - <p> - "Ah! it is all folly. However—Aldobrand arrived in the ordinary - dress, as we would say, of a journeyman printer—the same in which he - had traversed Germany, and conversed with Luther, Melancthon, Erasmus, and - other learned men, who disdained not his knowledge, and the power he - possessed of diffusing it, though hid under a garb so homely. But what - appeared respectable in the eyes of wisdom, religion, learning, and - philosophy, seemed mean, as might readily be supposed, and disgusting, in - those of silly and affected womankind, and Bertha refused to acknowledge - her former lover, in the torn doublet, skin cap, clouted shoes, and - leathern apron, of a travelling handicraftsman or mechanic. He claimed his - privilege, however, of being admitted to a trial; and when the rest of the - suitors had either declined the contest, or made such work as the devil - could not read if his pardon depended on it, all eyes were bent on the - stranger. Aldobrand stepped gracefully forward, arranged the types without - omission of a single letter, hyphen, or comma, imposed them without - deranging a single space, and pulled off the first proof as clear and free - from errors, as if it had been a triple revise! All applauded the worthy - successor of the immortal Faustus—the blushing maiden acknowledged - her error in trusting to the eye more than the intellect—and the - elected bridegroom thenceforward chose for his impress or device the - appropriate words, <i>Skill wins favour.</i>'—But what is the matter - with you?—you are in a brown study! Come, I told you this was but - trumpery conversation for thinking people—and now I have my hand on - the Ossianic Controversy." - </p> - <p> - "I beg your pardon," said Lovel; "I am going to appear very silly and - changeable in your eyes, Mr. Oldbuck—but you seemed to think Sir - Arthur might in civility expect a call from me?" - </p> - <p> - "Psha! psha! I can make your apology; and if you must leave us so soon as - you say, what signifies how you stand in his honours good graces?—And - I warn you that the Essay on Castrametation is something prolix, and will - occupy the time we can spare after dinner, so you may lose the Ossianic - Controversy if we do not dedicate this morning to it. We will go out to my - ever-green bower, my sacred holly-tree yonder, and have it <i>fronde super - viridi.</i> - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sing heigh-ho! heigh-ho! for the green holly, - Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. -</pre> - <p> - But, egad," continued the old gentleman, "when I look closer at you, I - begin to think you may be of a different opinion. Amen with all my heart—I - quarrel with no man's hobby, if he does not run it a tilt against mine, - and if he does—let him beware his eyes. What say you?—in the - language of the world and worldlings base, if you can condescend to so - mean a sphere, shall we stay or go?" - </p> - <p> - "In the language of selfishness, then, which is of course the language of - the world—let us go by all means." - </p> - <p> - "Amen, amen, quo' the Earl Marshall," answered Oldbuck, as he exchanged - his slippers for a pair of stout walking shoes, with <i>cutikins,</i> as - he called them, of black cloth. He only interrupted the walk by a slight - deviation to the tomb of John o' the Girnel, remembered as the last - bailiff of the abbey who had resided at Monkbarns. Beneath an old oak-tree - upon a hillock, sloping pleasantly to the south, and catching a distant - view of the sea over two or three rich enclosures, and the Mussel-crag, - lay a moss-grown stone, and, in memory of the departed worthy, it bore an - inscription, of which, as Mr. Oldbuck affirmed (though many doubted), the - defaced characters could be distinctly traced to the following effect:— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here lyeth John o' ye Girnell; - Erth has ye nit, and heuen ye kirnell. - In hys tyme ilk wyfe's hennis clokit, - Ilka gud mannis herth wi' bairnis was stokit. - He deled a boll o' bear in firlottis fyve, - Four for ye halie kirke, and ane for puir mennis wyvis. -</pre> - <p> - "You see how modest the author of this sepulchral commendation was;—he - tells us that honest John could make five firlots, or quarters, as you - would say, out of the boll, instead of four,—that he gave the fifth - to the wives of the parish, and accounted for the other four to the abbot - and CHAPTER—that in his time the wives' hens always laid eggs—and - devil thank them, if they got one-fifth of the abbey rents; and that - honest men's hearths were never unblest with offspring—an addition - to the miracle, which they, as well as I, must have considered as - perfectly unaccountable. But come on—leave we Jock o' the Girnel, - and let us jog on to the yellow sands, where the sea, like a repulsed - enemy, is now retreating from the ground on which he gave us battle last - night." - </p> - <p> - Thus saying, he led the way to the sands. Upon the links or downs close to - them, were seen four or five huts inhabited by fishers, whose boats, drawn - high upon the beach, lent the odoriferous vapours of pitch melting under a - burning sun, to contend with those of the offals of fish and other - nuisances usually collected round Scottish cottages. Undisturbed by these - complicated steams of abomination, a middle-aged woman, with a face which - had defied a thousand storms, sat mending a net at the door of one of the - cottages. A handkerchief close bound about her head, and a coat which had - formerly been that of a man, gave her a masculine air, which was increased - by her strength, uncommon stature, and harsh voice. "What are ye for the - day, your honour?" she said, or rather screamed, to Oldbuck; "caller - haddocks and whitings—a bannock-fluke and a cock-padle." - </p> - <p> - "How much for the bannock-fluke and cock-padle?" demanded the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Four white shillings and saxpence," answered the Naiad. - </p> - <p> - "Four devils and six of their imps!" retorted the Antiquary; "do you think - I am mad, Maggie?" - </p> - <p> - "And div ye think," rejoined the virago, setting her arms akimbo, "that my - man and my sons are to gae to the sea in weather like yestreen and the day—sic - a sea as it's yet outby—and get naething for their fish, and be - misca'd into the bargain, Monkbarns? It's no fish ye're buying—it's - men's lives." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Maggie, I'll bid you fair—I'll bid you a shilling for the - fluke and the cock-padle, or sixpence separately—and if all your - fish are as well paid, I think your man, as you call him, and your sons, - will make a good voyage." - </p> - <p> - "Deil gin their boat were knockit against the Bell-Rock rather! it wad be - better, and the bonnier voyage o' the twa. A shilling for thae twa bonnie - fish! Od, that's ane indeed!" - </p> - <p> - "Well, well, you old beldam, carry your fish up to Monkbarns, and see what - my sister will give you for them." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, Monkbarns, deil a fit—I'll rather deal wi' yoursell; for - though you're near enough, yet Miss Grizel has an unco close grip—I'll - gie ye them" (in a softened tone) "for three-and-saxpence." - </p> - <p> - "Eighteen-pence, or nothing!" - </p> - <p> - "Eighteen-pence!!!" (in a loud tone of astonishment, which declined into a - sort of rueful whine, when the dealer turned as if to walk away)—"Yell - no be for the fish then?"—(then louder, as she saw him moving off)—"I'll - gie ye them—and—and—and a half-a-dozen o' partans to - make the sauce, for three shillings and a dram." - </p> - <p> - "Half-a-crown then, Maggie, and a dram." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, your honour maun hae't your ain gate, nae doubt; but a dram's - worth siller now—the distilleries is no working." - </p> - <p> - "And I hope they'll never work again in my time," said Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay—it's easy for your honour, and the like o' you gentle-folks - to say sae, that hae stouth and routh, and fire and fending and meat and - claith, and sit dry and canny by the fireside—but an ye wanted fire, - and meat, and dry claes, and were deeing o' cauld, and had a sair heart, - whilk is warst ava', wi' just tippence in your pouch, wadna ye be glad to - buy a dram wi't, to be eilding and claes, and a supper and heart's ease - into the bargain, till the morn's morning?" - </p> - <p> - "It's even too true an apology, Maggie. Is your goodman off to sea this - morning, after his exertions last night?" - </p> - <p> - "In troth is he, Monkbarns; he was awa this morning by four o'clock, when - the sea was working like barm wi' yestreen's wind, and our bit coble - dancing in't like a cork." - </p> - <p> - "Well, he's an industrious fellow. Carry the fish up to Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - "That I will—or I'll send little Jenny, she'll rin faster; but I'll - ca' on Miss Grizzy for the dram mysell, and say ye sent me." - </p> - <p> - A nondescript animal, which might have passed for a mermaid, as it was - paddling in a pool among the rocks, was summoned ashore by the shrill - screams of its dam; and having been made decent, as her mother called it, - which was performed by adding a short red cloak to a petticoat, which was - at first her sole covering, and which reached scantily below her knee, the - child was dismissed with the fish in a basket, and a request on the part - of Monkbarns that they might be prepared for dinner. "It would have been - long," said Oldbuck, with much self-complacency, "ere my womankind could - have made such a reasonable bargain with that old skin-flint, though they - sometimes wrangle with her for an hour together under my study window, - like three sea-gulls screaming and sputtering in a gale of wind. But come, - wend we on our way to Knockwinnock." - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWELFTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Beggar?—the only freeman of your commonwealth; - Free above Scot-free, that observe no laws, - Obey no governor, use no religion - But what they draw from their own ancient custom, - Or constitute themselves, yet they are no rebels. - Brome. -</pre> - <p> - With our reader's permission, we will outstep the slow, though sturdy pace - of the Antiquary, whose halts, as he, turned round to his companion at - every moment to point out something remarkable in the landscape, or to - enforce some favourite topic more emphatically than the exercise of - walking permitted, delayed their progress considerably. - </p> - <p> - Notwithstanding the fatigues and dangers of the preceding evening, Miss - Wardour was able to rise at her usual hour, and to apply herself to her - usual occupations, after she had first satisfied her anxiety concerning - her father's state of health. Sir Arthur was no farther indisposed than by - the effects of great agitation and unusual fatigue, but these were - sufficient to induce him to keep his bedchamber. - </p> - <p> - To look back on the events of the preceding day, was, to Isabella, a very - unpleasing retrospect. She owed her life, and that of her father, to the - very person by whom, of all others, she wished least to be obliged, - because she could hardly even express common gratitude towards him without - encouraging hopes which might be injurious to them both. "Why should it be - my fate to receive such benefits, and conferred at so much personal risk, - from one whose romantic passion I have so unceasingly laboured to - discourage? Why should chance have given him this advantage over me? and - why, oh why, should a half-subdued feeling in my own bosom, in spite of my - sober reason, almost rejoice that he has attained it?" - </p> - <p> - While Miss Wardour thus taxed herself with wayward caprice, she, beheld - advancing down the avenue, not her younger and more dreaded preserver, but - the old beggar who had made such a capital figure in the melodrama of the - preceding evening. - </p> - <p> - She rang the bell for her maid-servant. "Bring the old man up stairs." - </p> - <p> - The servant returned in a minute or two—"He will come up at no rate, - madam;—he says his clouted shoes never were on a carpet in his life, - and that, please God, they never shall.—Must I take him into the - servants' hall?" - </p> - <p> - "No; stay, I want to speak with him—Where is he?" for she had lost - sight of him as he approached the house. - </p> - <p> - "Sitting in the sun on the stone-bench in the court, beside the window of - the flagged parlour." - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0008" id="image-0008"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa146.jpg" alt="Eddie Ochiltree Visits Miss Wardour " - width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - "Bid him stay there—I'll come down to the parlour, and speak with - him at the window." - </p> - <p> - She came down accordingly, and found the mendicant half-seated, - half-reclining, upon the bench beside the window. Edie Ochiltree, old man - and beggar as he was, had apparently some internal consciousness of the - favourable, impressions connected with his tall form, commanding features, - and long white beard and hair. It used to be remarked of him, that he was - seldom seen but in a posture which showed these personal attributes to - advantage. At present, as he lay half-reclined, with his wrinkled yet - ruddy cheek, and keen grey eye turned up towards the sky, his staff and - bag laid beside him, and a cast of homely wisdom and sarcastic irony in - the expression of his countenance, while he gazed for a moment around the - court-yard, and then resumed his former look upward, he might have been - taken by an artist as the model of an old philosopher of the Cynic school, - musing upon the frivolity of mortal pursuits, and the precarious tenure of - human possessions, and looking up to the source from which aught - permanently good can alone be derived. The young lady, as she presented - her tall and elegant figure at the open window, but divided from the - court-yard by a grating, with which, according to the fashion of ancient - times, the lower windows of the castle were secured, gave an interest of a - different kind, and might be supposed, by a romantic imagination, an - imprisoned damsel communicating a tale of her durance to a palmer, in - order that he might call upon the gallantry of every knight whom he should - meet in his wanderings, to rescue her from her oppressive thraldom. - </p> - <p> - After Miss Wardour had offered, in the terms she thought would be most - acceptable, those thanks which the beggar declined as far beyond his - merit, she began to express herself in a manner which she supposed would - speak more feelingly to his apprehension. "She did not know," she said, - "what her father intended particularly to do for their preserver, but - certainly it would be something that would make him easy for life; if he - chose to reside at the castle, she would give orders"— - </p> - <p> - The old man smiled, and shook his head. "I wad be baith a grievance and a - disgrace to your fine servants, my leddy, and I have never been a disgrace - to onybody yet, that I ken of." - </p> - <p> - "Sir Arthur would give strict orders"— - </p> - <p> - "Ye're very kind—I doubtna, I doubtna; but there are some things a - master can command, and some he canna—I daresay he wad gar them keep - hands aff me—(and troth, I think they wad hardly venture on that ony - gate)—and he wad gar them gie me my soup parritch and bit meat. But - trow ye that Sir Arthur's command could forbid the gibe o' the tongue or - the blink o' the ee, or gar them gie me my food wi' the look o' kindness - that gars it digest sae weel, or that he could make them forbear a' the - slights and taunts that hurt ane's spirit mair nor downright misca'ing?—Besides, - I am the idlest auld carle that ever lived; I downa be bound down to hours - o' eating and sleeping; and, to speak the honest truth, I wad be a very - bad example in ony weel regulated family." - </p> - <p> - "Well, then, Edie, what do you think of a neat cottage and a garden, and a - daily dole, and nothing to do but to dig a little in your garden when you - pleased yourself?" - </p> - <p> - "And how often wad that be, trow ye, my leddy? maybe no ance atween - Candlemas and Yule and if a' thing were done to my hand, as if I was Sir - Arthur himsell, I could never bide the staying still in ae place, and just - seeing the same joists and couples aboon my head night after night.--And - then I have a queer humour o' my ain, that sets a strolling beggar weel - eneugh, whase word naebody minds—but ye ken Sir Arthur has odd sort - o' ways—and I wad be jesting or scorning at them—and ye wad be - angry, and then I wad be just fit to hang mysell." - </p> - <p> - "O, you are a licensed man," said Isabella; "we shall give you all - reasonable scope: So you had better be ruled, and remember your age." - </p> - <p> - "But I am no that sair failed yet," replied the mendicant. "Od, ance I gat - a wee soupled yestreen, I was as yauld as an eel. And then what wad a' the - country about do for want o' auld Edie Ochiltree, that brings news and - country cracks frae ae farm-steading to anither, and gingerbread to the - lasses, and helps the lads to mend their fiddles, and the gudewives to - clout their pans, and plaits rush-swords and grenadier caps for the weans, - and busks the laird's flees, and has skill o' cow-ills and horse-ills, and - kens mair auld sangs and tales than a' the barony besides, and gars ilka - body laugh wherever he comes? Troth, my leddy, I canna lay down my - vocation; it would be a public loss." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Edie, if your idea of your importance is so strong as not to be - shaken by the prospect of independence"— - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, Miss—it's because I am mair independent as I am," answered - the old man; "I beg nae mair at ony single house than a meal o' meat, or - maybe but a mouthfou o't—if it's refused at ae place, I get it at - anither—sae I canna be said to depend on onybody in particular, but - just on the country at large." - </p> - <p> - "Well, then, only promise me that you will let me know should you ever - wish to settle as you turn old, and more incapable of making your usual - rounds; and, in the meantime, take this." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, my leddy: I downa take muckle siller at ance—it's against - our rule; and—though it's maybe no civil to be repeating the like o' - that—they say that siller's like to be scarce wi' Sir Arthur - himsell, and that he's run himsell out o' thought wi' his honkings and - minings for lead and copper yonder." - </p> - <p> - Isabella had some anxious anticipations to the same effect, but was - shocked to hear that her father's embarrassments were such public talk; as - if scandal ever failed to stoop upon so acceptable a quarry as the - failings of the good man, the decline of the powerful, or the decay of the - prosperous.—Miss Wardour sighed deeply—"Well, Edie, we have - enough to pay our debts, let folks say what they will, and requiting you - is one of the foremost—let me press this sum upon you." - </p> - <p> - "That I might be robbed and murdered some night between town and town? or, - what's as bad, that I might live in constant apprehension o't?—I am - no"—(lowering his voice to a whisper, and looking keenly around him)—"I - am no that clean unprovided for neither; and though I should die at the - back of a dyke, they'll find as muckle quilted in this auld blue gown as - will bury me like a Christian, and gie the lads and lasses a blythe - lykewake too; sae there's the gaberlunzie's burial provided for, and I - need nae mair. Were the like o' me ever to change a note, wha the deil - d'ye think wad be sic fules as to gie me charity after that?—it wad - flee through the country like wildfire, that auld Edie suld hae done - siccan a like thing, and then, I'se warrant, I might grane my heart out or - onybody wad gie me either a bane or a bodle." - </p> - <p> - "Is there nothing, then, that I can do for you?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou ay—I'll aye come for my awmous as usual,—and whiles I wad - be fain o' a pickle sneeshin, and ye maun speak to the constable and - ground-officer just to owerlook me; and maybe ye'll gie a gude word for me - to Sandie Netherstanes, the miller, that he may chain up his muckle dog—I - wadna hae him to hurt the puir beast, for it just does its office in - barking at a gaberlunzie like me. And there's ae thing maybe mair,—but - ye'll think it's very bald o' the like o' me to speak o't." - </p> - <p> - "What is it, Edie?—if it respects you it shall be done if it is in - my power." - </p> - <p> - "It respects yoursell, and it is in your power, and I maun come out wi't. - Ye are a bonny young leddy, and a gude ane, and maybe a weel-tochered ane—but - dinna ye sneer awa the lad Lovel, as ye did a while sinsyne on the walk - beneath the Briery-bank, when I saw ye baith, and heard ye too, though ye - saw nae me. Be canny wi' the lad, for he loes ye weel, and it's to him, - and no to anything I could have done for you, that Sir Arthur and you wan - ower yestreen." - </p> - <p> - He uttered these words in a low but distinct tone of voice; and without - waiting for an answer, walked towards a low door which led to the - apartments of the servants, and so entered the house. - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour remained for a moment or two in the situation in which she - had heard the old man's last extraordinary speech, leaning, namely, - against the bars of the window; nor could she determine upon saying even a - single word, relative to a subject so delicate, until the beggar was out - of sight. It was, indeed, difficult to determine what to do. That her - having had an interview and private conversation with this young and - unknown stranger, should be a secret possessed by a person of the last - class in which a young lady would seek a confidant, and at the mercy of - one who was by profession gossip-general to the whole neighbourhood, gave - her acute agony. She had no reason, indeed, to suppose that the old man - would wilfully do anything to hurt her feelings, much less to injure her; - but the mere freedom of speaking to her upon such a subject, showed, as - might have been expected, a total absence of delicacy; and what he might - take it into his head to do or say next, that she was pretty sure so - professed an admirer of liberty would not hesitate to do or say without - scruple. This idea so much hurt and vexed her, that she half-wished the - officious assistance of Lovel and Ochiltree had been absent upon the - preceding evening. - </p> - <p> - While she was in this agitation of spirits, she suddenly observed Oldbuck - and Lovel entering the court. She drew instantly so far back from the - window, that she could without being seen, observe how the Antiquary - paused in front of the building, and pointing to the various scutcheons of - its former owners, seemed in the act of bestowing upon Lovel much curious - and erudite information, which, from the absent look of his auditor, - Isabella might shrewdly guess was entirely thrown away. The necessity that - she should take some resolution became instant and pressing;—she - rang, therefore, for a servant, and ordered him to show the visitors to - the drawing-room, while she, by another staircase, gained her own - apartment, to consider, ere she made her appearance, what line of conduct - were fittest for her to pursue. The guests, agreeably to her instructions, - were introduced into the room where company was usually received. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —The time was that I hated thee, - And yet it is not that I bear thee love. - Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, - I will endure— - But do not look for further recompense. - As You Like It. -</pre> - <p> - Miss Isabella Wardour's complexion was considerably heightened, when, - after the delay necessary to arrange her ideas, she presented herself in - the drawing-room. - </p> - <p> - "I am glad you are come, my fair foe," said the Antiquary greeting her - with much kindness, "for I have had a most refractory, or at least - negligent auditor, in my young friend here, while I endeavoured to make - him acquainted with the history of Knockwinnock Castle. I think the danger - of last night has mazed the poor lad. But you, Miss Isabel,—why, you - look as if flying through the night air had been your natural and most - congenial occupation; your colour is even better than when you honoured my - <i>hospitium</i> yesterday. And Sir Arthur—how fares my good old - friend?" - </p> - <p> - "Indifferently well, Mr. Oldbuck; but I am afraid, not quite able to - receive your congratulations, or to pay—to pay—Mr. Lovel his - thanks for his unparalleled exertions." - </p> - <p> - "I dare say not—A good down pillow for his good white head were more - meet than a couch so churlish as Bessy's-apron, plague on her!" - </p> - <p> - "I had no thought of intruding," said Lovel, looking upon the ground, and - speaking with hesitation and suppressed emotion; "I did not—did not - mean to intrude upon Sir Arthur or Miss Wardour the presence of one who—who - must necessarily be unwelcome—as associated, I mean, with painful - reflections." - </p> - <p> - "Do not think my father so unjust and ungrateful," said Miss Wardour. "I - dare say," she continued, participating in Lovel's embarrassment—"I - dare say—I am certain—that my father would be happy to show - his gratitude—in any way—that is, which Mr. Lovel could - consider it as proper to point out." - </p> - <p> - "Why the deuce," interrupted Oldbuck, "what sort of a qualification is - that?—On my word, it reminds me of our minister, who, choosing, like - a formal old fop as he is, to drink to my sister's inclinations, thought - it necessary to add the saving clause, Provided, madam, they be virtuous. - Come, let us have no more of this nonsense—I dare say Sir Arthur - will bid us welcome on some future day. And what news from the kingdom of - subterranean darkness and airy hope?—What says the swart spirit of - the mine? Has Sir Arthur had any good intelligence of his adventure lately - in Glen-Withershins?" - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour shook her head—"But indifferent, I fear, Mr. Oldbuck; - but there lie some specimens which have lately been sent down." - </p> - <p> - "Ah! my poor dear hundred pounds, which Sir Arthur persuaded me to give - for a share in that hopeful scheme, would have bought a porter's load of - mineralogy—But let me see them." - </p> - <p> - And so saying, he sat down at the table in the recess, on which the - mineral productions were lying, and proceeded to examine them, grumbling - and pshawing at each which he took up and laid aside. - </p> - <p> - In the meantime, Lovel, forced as it were by this secession of Oldbuck, - into a sort of tete-a'-tete with Miss Wardour, took an opportunity of - addressing her in a low and interrupted tone of voice. "I trust Miss - Wardour will impute, to circumstances almost irresistible, this intrusion - of a person who has reason to think himself—so unacceptable a - visitor." - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Lovel," answered Miss Wardour, observing the same tone of caution, "I - trust you will not—I am sure you are incapable of abusing the - advantages given to you by the services you have rendered us, which, as - they affect my father, can never be sufficiently acknowledged or repaid. - Could Mr. Lovel see me without his own peace being affected—could he - see me as a friend—as a sister—no man will be—and, from - all I have ever heard of Mr. Lovel, ought to be, more welcome but"— - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck's anathema against the preposition <i>but</i> was internally - echoed by Lovel. "Forgive me if I interrupt you, Miss Wardour; you need - not fear my intruding upon a subject where I have been already severely - repressed;—but do not add to the severity of repelling my sentiments - the rigour of obliging me to disavow them." - </p> - <p> - "I am much embarrassed, Mr. Lovel," replied the young lady, "by your—I - would not willingly use a strong word—your romantic and hopeless - pertinacity. It is for yourself I plead, that you would consider the calls - which your country has upon your talents—that you will not waste, in - an idle and fanciful indulgence of an ill-placed predilection, time, - which, well redeemed by active exertion, should lay the foundation of - future distinction. Let me entreat that you would form a manly resolution"— - </p> - <p> - "It is enough, Miss Wardour;—I see plainly that"— - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Lovel, you are hurt—and, believe me, I sympathize in the pain - which I inflict; but can I, in justice to myself, in fairness to you, do - otherwise? Without my father's consent, I never will entertain the - addresses of any one, and how totally impossible it is that he should - countenance the partiality with which you honour me, you are yourself - fully aware; and, indeed"— - </p> - <p> - "No, Miss Wardour," answered Lovel, in a tone of passionate entreaty; "do - not go farther—is it not enough to crush every hope in our present - relative situation?—do not carry your resolutions farther—why - urge what would be your conduct if Sir Arthur's objections could be - removed?" - </p> - <p> - "It is indeed vain, Mr. Lovel," said Miss Wardour, "because their removal - is impossible; and I only wish, as your friend, and as one who is obliged - to you for her own and her father's life, to entreat you to suppress this - unfortunate attachment—to leave a country which affords no scope for - your talents, and to resume the honourable line of the profession which - you seem to have abandoned." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Miss Wardour, your wishes shall be obeyed;—have patience with - me one little month, and if, in the course of that space, I cannot show - you such reasons for continuing my residence at Fairport, as even you - shall approve of, I will bid adieu to its vicinity, and, with the same - breath, to all my hopes of happiness." - </p> - <p> - "Not so, Mr. Lovel; many years of deserved happiness, founded on a more - rational basis than your present wishes, are, I trust, before, you. But it - is full time, to finish this conversation. I cannot force you to adopt my - advice—I cannot shut the door of my father's house against the - preserver of his life and mine; but the sooner Mr. Lovel can teach his - mind to submit to the inevitable disappointment of wishes which have been - so rashly formed, the more highly he will rise in my esteem—and, in - the meanwhile, for his sake as well as mine, he must excuse my putting an - interdict upon conversation on a subject so painful." - </p> - <p> - A servant at this moment announced that Sir Arthur desired to speak to Mr. - Oldbuck in his dressing-room. - </p> - <p> - "Let me show you the way," said Miss Wardour, who apparently dreaded a - continuation of her tete-a-tete with Lovel, and she conducted the - Antiquary accordingly to her father's apartment. - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur, his legs swathed in flannel, was stretched on the couch. - "Welcome, Mr. Oldbuck," he said; "I trust you have come better off than I - have done from the inclemency of yesterday evening?" - </p> - <p> - "Truly, Sir Arthur, I was not so much exposed to it—I kept <i>terra - firma</i>—you fairly committed yourself to the cold night-air in the - most literal of all senses. But such adventures become a gallant knight - better than a humble esquire,—to rise on the wings of the night-wind—to - dive into the bowels of the earth. What news from our subterranean Good - Hope!—the <i>terra incognita</i> of Glen-Withershins?" - </p> - <p> - "Nothing good as yet," said the Baronet, turning himself hastily, as if - stung by a pang of the gout; "but Dousterswivel does not despair." - </p> - <p> - "Does he not?" quoth Oldbuck; "I do though, under his favour. Why, old Dr. - H—n* told me, when I was in Edinburgh, that we should never find - copper enough, judging from the specimens I showed him, to make a pair of - sixpenny knee-buckles—and I cannot see that those samples on the - table below differ much in quality." - </p> - <p> - * Probably Dr. Hutton, the celebrated geologist. - </p> - <p> - "The learned doctor is not infallible, I presume?" - </p> - <p> - "No; but he is one of our first chemists; and this tramping philosopher of - yours—this Dousterswivel—is, I have a notion, one, of those - learned adventurers described by Kirchner, <i>Artem habent sine arte, - partem sine parte, quorum medium est mentiri, vita eorum mendicatum ire;</i> - that is to say, Miss Wardour"— - </p> - <p> - "It is unnecessary to translate," said Miss Wardour—"I comprehend - your general meaning; but I hope Mr. Dousterswivel will turn out a more - trustworthy character." - </p> - <p> - "I doubt it not a little," said the Antiquary,—"and we are a foul - way out if we cannot discover this infernal vein that he has prophesied - about these two years." - </p> - <p> - "<i>You</i> have no great interest in the matter, Mr. Oldbuck," said the - Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "Too much, too much, Sir Arthur; and yet, for the sake of my fair foe - here, I would consent to lose it all so you had no more on the venture." - </p> - <p> - There was a painful silence of a few moments, for Sir Arthur was too proud - to acknowledge the downfall of his golden dreams, though he could no - longer disguise to himself that such was likely to be the termination of - the adventure. "I understand," he at length said, "that the young - gentleman, to whose gallantry and presence of mind we were so much - indebted last night, has favoured me with a visit—I am distressed - that I am unable to see him, or indeed any one, but an old friend like - you, Mr. Oldbuck." - </p> - <p> - A declination of the Antiquary's stiff backbone acknowledged the - preference. - </p> - <p> - "You made acquaintance with this young gentleman in Edinburgh, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck told the circumstances of their becoming known to each other. - </p> - <p> - "Why, then, my daughter is an older acquaintance, of Mr. Lovel than you - are," said the Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "Indeed! I was not aware of that," answered Oldbuck somewhat surprised. - </p> - <p> - "I met Mr. Lovel," said Isabella, slightly colouring, "when I resided this - last spring with my aunt, Mrs. Wilmot." - </p> - <p> - "In Yorkshire?—and what character did he bear then, or how was he - engaged?" said Oldbuck,—"and why did not you recognise him when I - introduced you?" - </p> - <p> - Isabella answered the least difficult question, and passed over the other—"He - had a commission in the army, and had, I believe, served with reputation; - he was much respected, as an amiable and promising young man." - </p> - <p> - "And pray, such being the case," replied the Antiquary, not disposed to - take one reply in answer to two distinct questions, "why did you not speak - to the lad at once when you met him at my house? I thought you had less of - the paltry pride of womankind about you, Miss Wardour." - </p> - <p> - "There was a reason for it," said Sir Arthur with dignity; "you know the - opinions—prejudices, perhaps you will call them—of our house - concerning purity of birth. This young gentleman is, it seems, the - illegitimate son of a man of fortune; my daughter did not choose to renew - their acquaintance till she should know whether I approved of her holding - any intercourse with him." - </p> - <p> - "If it had been with his mother instead of himself," answered Oldbuck, - with his usual dry causticity of humour, "I could see an excellent reason - for it. Ah, poor lad! that was the cause, then, that he seemed so absent - and confused while I explained to him the reason of the bend of bastardy - upon the shield yonder under the corner turret!" - </p> - <p> - "True," said the Baronet, with complacency—"it is the shield of - Malcolm the Usurper, as he is called. The tower which he built is termed, - after him, Malcolm's Tower, but more frequently Misticot's Tower, which I - conceive to be a corruption for <i>Misbegot.</i> He is denominated, in the - Latin pedigree of our family, <i>Milcolumbus Nothus;</i> and his temporary - seizure of our property, and most unjust attempt to establish his own - illegitimate line in the estate of Knockwinnock, gave rise to such family - feuds and misfortunes, as strongly to found us in that horror and - antipathy to defiled blood and illegitimacy which has been handed down to - me from my respected ancestry." - </p> - <p> - "I know the story," said Oldbuck, "and I was telling it to Lovel this - moment, with some of the wise maxims and consequences which it has - engrafted on your family politics. Poor fellow! he must have been much - hurt: I took the wavering of his attention for negligence, and was - something piqued at it, and it proves to be only an excess of feeling. I - hope, Sir Arthur, you will not think the less of your life because it has - been preserved by such assistance?" - </p> - <p> - "Nor the less of my assistant either," said the Baronet; "my doors and - table shall be equally open to him as if he had descended of the most - unblemished lineage." - </p> - <p> - "Come, I am glad of that—he'll know where he can get a dinner, then, - if he wants one. But what views can he have in this neighbourhood? I must - catechise him; and if I find he wants it—or, indeed, whether he does - or not—he shall have my best advice." As the Antiquary made this - liberal promise, he took his leave of Miss Wardour and her father, eager - to commence operations upon Mr. Lovel. He informed him abruptly that Miss - Wardour sent her compliments, and remained in attendance on her father, - and then, taking him by the arm, he led him out of the castle. - </p> - <p> - Knockwinnock still preserved much of the external attributes of a baronial - castle. It had its drawbridge, though now never drawn up, and its dry - moat, the sides of which had been planted with shrubs, chiefly of the - evergreen tribes. Above these rose the old building, partly from a - foundation of red rock scarped down to the sea-beach, and partly from the - steep green verge of the moat. The trees of the avenue have been already - mentioned, and many others rose around of large size,—as if to - confute the prejudice that timber cannot be raised near to the ocean. Our - walkers paused, and looked back upon the castle, as they attained the - height of a small knoll, over which lay their homeward road; for it is to - be supposed they did not tempt the risk of the tide by returning along the - sands. The building flung its broad shadow upon the tufted foliage of the - shrubs beneath it, while the front windows sparkled in the sun. They were - viewed by the gazers with very different feelings. Lovel, with the fond - eagerness of that passion which derives its food and nourishment from - trifles, as the chameleon is said to live on the air, or upon the - invisible insects which it contains, endeavoured to conjecture which of - the numerous windows belonged to the apartment now graced by Miss - Wardour's presence. The speculations of the Antiquary were of a more - melancholy cast, and were partly indicated by the ejaculation of <i>cito - peritura!</i> as he turned away from the prospect. Lovel, roused from his - reverie, looked at him as if to inquire the meaning of an exclamation so - ominous. The old man shook his head. "Yes, my young friend," said he, "I - doubt greatly—and it wrings my heart to say it—this ancient - family is going fast to the ground!" - </p> - <p> - "Indeed!" answered Lovel—"you surprise me greatly." - </p> - <p> - "We harden ourselves in vain," continued the Antiquary, pursuing his own - train of thought and feeling—"we harden ourselves in vain to treat - with the indifference they deserve, the changes of this trumpery whirligig - world. We strive ineffectually to be the self-sufficing invulnerable - being, the <i>teres atque rotundus</i> of the poet;—the stoical - exemption which philosophy affects to give us over the pains and vexations - of human life, is as imaginary as the state of mystical quietism and - perfection aimed at by some crazy enthusiasts." - </p> - <p> - "And Heaven forbid that it should be otherwise!" said Lovel, warmly—"Heaven - forbid that any process of philosophy were capable so to sear and indurate - our feelings, that nothing should agitate them but what arose instantly - and immediately out of our own selfish interests! I would as soon wish my - hand to be as callous as horn, that it might escape an occasional cut or - scratch, as I would be ambitious of the stoicism which should render my - heart like a piece of the nether millstone." - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary regarded his youthful companion with a look half of pity, - half of sympathy, and shrugged up his shoulders as he replied—"Wait, - young man—wait till your bark has been battered by the storm of - sixty years of mortal vicissitude: you will learn by that time, to reef - your sails, that she may obey the helm;—or, in the language of this - world, you will find distresses enough, endured and to endure, to keep - your feelings and sympathies in full exercise, without concerning yourself - more in the fate of others than you cannot possibly avoid." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Mr. Oldbuck, it may be so;—but as yet I resemble you more in - your practice than in your theory, for I cannot help being deeply - interested in the fate of the family we have just left." - </p> - <p> - "And well you may," replied Oldbuck. "Sir Arthur's embarrassments have of - late become so many and so pressing, that I am surprised you have not - heard of them. And then his absurd and expensive operations carried on by - this High-German landlouper, Dousterswivel"— - </p> - <p> - "I think I have seen that person, when, by some rare chance, I happened to - be in the coffee-room at Fairport;—a tall, beetle-browed, - awkward-built man, who entered upon scientific subjects, as it appeared to - my ignorance at least, with more assurance than knowledge—was very - arbitrary in laying down and asserting his opinions, and mixed the terms - of science with a strange jargon of mysticism. A simple youth whispered me - that he was an <i>Illumine',</i> and carried on an intercourse with the - invisible world." - </p> - <p> - "O, the same—the same. He has enough of practical knowledge to speak - scholarly and wisely to those of whose intelligence he stands in awe; and, - to say the truth, this faculty, joined to his matchless impudence, imposed - upon me for some time when I first knew him. But I have since understood, - that when he is among fools and womankind, he exhibits himself as a - perfect charlatan—talks of the <i>magisterium</i>—of - sympathies and antipathies—of the cabala—of the divining-rod—and - all the trumpery with which the Rosicrucians cheated a darker age, and - which, to our eternal disgrace, has in some degree revived in our own. My - friend Heavysterne knew this fellow abroad, and unintentionally (for he, - you must know, is, God bless the mark! a sort of believer) let me into a - good deal of his real character. Ah! were I caliph for a day, as Honest - Abon Hassan wished to be, I would scourge me these jugglers out of the - commonwealth with rods of scorpions. They debauch the spirit of the - ignorant and credulous with mystical trash, as effectually as if they had - besotted their brains with gin, and then pick their pockets with the same - facility. And now has this strolling blackguard and mountebank put the - finishing blow to the ruin of an ancient and honourable family!" - </p> - <p> - "But how could he impose upon Sir Arthur to any ruinous extent?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, I don't know. Sir Arthur is a good honourable gentleman; but, as you - may see from his loose ideas concerning the Pikish language, he is by no - means very strong in the understanding. His estate is strictly entailed, - and he has been always an embarrassed man. This rapparee promised him - mountains of wealth, and an English company was found to advance large - sums of money—I fear on Sir Arthur's guarantee. Some gentlemen—I - was ass enough to be one—took small shares in the concern, and Sir - Arthur himself made great outlay; we were trained on by specious - appearances and more specious lies; and now, like John Bunyan, we awake, - and behold it is a dream!" - </p> - <p> - "I am surprised that you, Mr. Oldbuck, should have encouraged Sir Arthur - by your example." - </p> - <p> - "Why," said Oldbuck, dropping his large grizzled eyebrow, "I am something - surprised and ashamed at it myself; it was not the lucre of gain—nobody - cares less for money (to be a prudent man) than I do—but I thought I - might risk this small sum. It will be expected (though I am sure I cannot - see why) that I should give something to any one who will be kind enough - to rid me of that slip of womankind, my niece, Mary M'Intyre; and perhaps - it may be thought I should do something to get that jackanapes, her - brother, on in the army. In either case, to treble my venture, would have - helped me out. And besides, I had some idea that the Phoenicians had in - former times wrought copper in that very spot. That cunning scoundrel, - Dousterswivel, found out my blunt side, and brought strange tales (d—n - him) of appearances of old shafts, and vestiges of mining operations, - conducted in a manner quite different from those of modern times; and I—in - short, I was a fool, and there is an end. My loss is not much worth - speaking about; but Sir Arthur's engagements are, I understand, very deep, - and my heart aches for him and the poor young lady who must share his - distress." - </p> - <p> - Here the conversation paused, until renewed in the next CHAPTER. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep, - My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: - My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne, - And all this day, an unaccustomed spirit - Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. - Romeo and Juliet. -</pre> - <p> - The account of Sir Arthur's unhappy adventure had led Oldbuck somewhat - aside from his purpose of catechising Lovel concerning the cause of his - residence at Fairport. He was now, however, resolved to open the subject. - "Miss Wardour was formerly known to you, she tells me, Mr. Lovel?" - </p> - <p> - "He had had the pleasure," Lovel answered, "to see her at Mrs. Wilmot's, - in Yorkshire." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed! you never mentioned that to me before, and you did not accost her - as an old acquaintance." - </p> - <p> - "I—I did not know," said Lovel, a good deal embarrassed, "it was the - same lady, till we met; and then it was my duty to wait till she should - recognise me." - </p> - <p> - "I am aware of your delicacy: the knight's a punctilious old fool, but I - promise you his daughter is above all nonsensical ceremony and prejudice. - And now, since you have, found a new set of friends here, may I ask if you - intend to leave Fairport as soon as you proposed?" - </p> - <p> - "What if I should answer your question by another," replied Lovel, "and - ask you what is your opinion of dreams?" - </p> - <p> - "Of dreams, you foolish lad!—why, what should I think of them but as - the deceptions of imagination when reason drops the reins? I know no - difference betwixt them and the hallucinations of madness—the - unguided horses run away with the carriage in both cases, only in the one - the coachman is drunk, and in the other he slumbers. What says our Marcus - Tullius—<i>Si insanorum visis fides non est habenda, cur credatur - somnientium visis, quae multo etiam perturbatiora sunt, non intelligo.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, sir; but Cicero also tells us, that as he who passes the whole day - in darting the javelin must sometimes hit the mark, so, amid the cloud of - nightly dreams, some may occur consonant to future events." - </p> - <p> - "Ay—that is to say, <i>you</i> have hit the mark in your own sage - opinion? Lord! Lord! how this world is given to folly! Well, I will allow - for once the Oneirocritical science—I will give faith to the - exposition of dreams, and say a Daniel hath arisen to interpret them, if - you can prove to me that that dream of yours has pointed to a prudent line - of conduct." - </p> - <p> - "Tell me, then," answered Lovel, "why when I was hesitating whether to - abandon an enterprise, which I have perhaps rashly undertaken, I should - last night dream I saw your ancestor pointing to a motto which encouraged - me to perseverance?—why should I have thought of those words which I - cannot remember to have heard before, which are in a language unknown to - me, and which yet conveyed, when translated, a lesson which I could so - plainly apply to my own circumstances?" - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary burst into a fit of laughing. "Excuse me, my young friend—but - it is thus we silly mortals deceive ourselves, and look out of doors for - motives which originate in our own wilful will. I think I can help out the - cause of your vision. You were so abstracted in your contemplations - yesterday after dinner, as to pay little attention to the discourse - between Sir Arthur and me, until we fell upon the controversy concerning - the Piks, which terminated so abruptly;—but I remember producing to - Sir Arthur a book printed by my ancestor, and making him observe the - motto; your mind was bent elsewhere, but your ear had mechanically - received and retained the sounds, and your busy fancy, stirred by Grizel's - legend I presume, had introduced this scrap of German into your dream. As - for the waking wisdom which seized on so frivolous a circumstance as an - apology for persevering in some course which it could find no better - reason to justify, it is exactly one of those juggling tricks which the - sagest of us play off now and then, to gratify our inclination at the - expense of our understanding." - </p> - <p> - "I own it," said Lovel, blushing deeply;—"I believe you are right, - Mr. Oldbuck, and I ought to sink in your esteem for attaching a moment's - consequence to such a frivolity;—but I was tossed by contradictory - wishes and resolutions, and you know how slight a line will tow a boat - when afloat on the billows, though a cable would hardly move her when - pulled up on the beach." - </p> - <p> - "Right, right," exclaimed the Antiquary. "Fall in my opinion!—not a - whit—I love thee the better, man;—why, we have story for story - against each other, and I can think with less shame on having exposed - myself about that cursed Praetorium—though I am still convinced - Agricola's camp must have been somewhere in this neighbourhood. And now, - Lovel, my good lad, be sincere with me—What make you from - Wittenberg?—why have you left your own country and professional - pursuits, for an idle residence in such a place as Fairport? A truant - disposition, I fear." - </p> - <p> - "Even so," replied Lovel, patiently submitting to an interrogatory which - he could not well evade. "Yet I am so detached from all the world, have so - few in whom I am interested, or who are interested in me, that my very - state of destitution gives me independence. He whose good or evil fortune - affects himself alone, has the best right to pursue it according to his - own fancy." - </p> - <p> - "Pardon me, young man," said Oldbuck, laying his hand kindly on his - shoulder, and making a full halt—"<i>sufflamina</i>—a little - patience, if you please. I will suppose that you have no friends to share - or rejoice in your success in life—that you cannot look back to - those to whom you owe gratitude, or forward to those to whom you ought to - afford protection; but it is no less incumbent on you to move steadily in - the path of duty—for your active exertions are due not only to - society, but in humble gratitude to the Being who made you a member of it, - with powers to serve yourself and others." - </p> - <p> - "But I am unconscious of possessing such powers," said Lovel, somewhat - impatiently. "I ask nothing of society but the permission of walking - innoxiously through the path of life, without jostling others, or - permitting myself to be jostled. I owe no man anything—I have the - means of maintaining, myself with complete independence; and so moderate - are my wishes in this respect, that even these means, however limited, - rather exceed than fall short of them." - </p> - <p> - "Nay, then," said Oldbuck, removing his hand, and turning again to the - road, "if you are so true a philosopher as to think you have money enough, - there's no more to be said—I cannot pretend to be entitled to advise - you;—you have attained the <i>acme'</i>—the summit of - perfection. And how came Fairport to be the selected abode of so much - self-denying philosophy? It is as if a worshipper of the true religion had - set up his staff by choice among the multifarious idolaters of the land of - Egypt. There is not a man in Fairport who is not a devoted worshipper of - the Golden Calf—the mammon of unrighteousness. Why, even I, man, am - so infected by the bad neighbourhood, that I feel inclined occasionally to - become an idolater myself." - </p> - <p> - "My principal amusements being literary," answered Lovel, "and - circumstances which I cannot mention having induced me, for a time at - least, to relinquish the military service, I have pitched on Fairport as a - place where I might follow my pursuits without any of those temptations to - society which a more elegant circle might have presented to me." - </p> - <p> - "Aha!" replied Oldbuck, knowingly,—"I begin to understand your - application of my ancestor's motto. You are a candidate for public favour, - though not in the way I first suspected,—you are ambitious to shine - as a literary character, and you hope to merit favour by labour and - perseverance?" - </p> - <p> - Lovel, who was rather closely pressed by the inquisitiveness of the old - gentleman, concluded it would be best to let him remain in the error which - he had gratuitously adopted. - </p> - <p> - "I have been at times foolish enough," he replied, "to nourish some - thoughts of the kind." - </p> - <p> - "Ah, poor fellow! nothing can be more melancholy; unless, as young men - sometimes do, you had fancied yourself in love with some trumpery specimen - of womankind, which is indeed, as Shakspeare truly says, pressing to - death, whipping, and hanging all at once." - </p> - <p> - He then proceeded with inquiries, which he was sometimes kind enough to - answer himself. For this good old gentleman had, from his antiquarian - researches, acquired a delight in building theories out of premises which - were often far from affording sufficient ground for them; and being, as - the reader must have remarked, sufficiently opinionative, he did not - readily brook being corrected, either in matter of fact or judgment, even - by those who were principally interested in the subjects on which he - speculated. He went on, therefore, chalking out Lovel's literary career - for him. - </p> - <p> - "And with what do you propose to commence your debut as a man of letters?—But - I guess—poetry—poetry—the soft seducer of youth. Yes! - there is an acknowledging modesty of confusion in your eye and manner. And - where lies your vein?—are you inclined to soar to the higher regions - of Parnassus, or to flutter around the base of the hill?" - </p> - <p> - "I have hitherto attempted only a few lyrical pieces," said Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "Just as I supposed—pruning your wing, and hopping from spray to - spray. But I trust you intend a bolder flight. Observe, I would by no - means recommend your persevering in this unprofitable pursuit—but - you say you are quite independent of the public caprice?" - </p> - <p> - "Entirely so," replied Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "And that you are determined not to adopt a more active course of life?" - </p> - <p> - "For the present, such is my resolution," replied the young man. - </p> - <p> - "Why, then, it only remains for me to give you my best advice and - assistance in the object of your pursuit. I have myself published two - essays in the Antiquarian Repository,—and therefore am an author of - experience, There was my Remarks on Hearne's edition of Robert of - Gloucester, signed <i>Scrutator;</i> and the other signed <i>Indagator,</i> - upon a passage in Tacitus. I might add, what attracted considerable notice - at the time, and that is my paper in the Gentleman's Magazine, upon the - inscription of OElia Lelia, which I subscribed <i>OEdipus.</i> So you see - I am not an apprentice in the mysteries of author-craft, and must - necessarily understand the taste and temper of the times. And now, once - more, what do you intend to commence with?" - </p> - <p> - "I have no instant thoughts of publishing." - </p> - <p> - "Ah! that will never do; you must have the fear of the public before your - eyes in all your undertakings. Let us see now: A collection of fugitive - pieces; but no—your fugitive poetry is apt to become stationary with - the bookseller. It should be something at once solid and attractive—none - of your romances or anomalous novelties—I would have you take high - ground at once. Let me see: What think you of a real epic?—the grand - old-fashioned historical poem which moved through twelve or twenty-four - books. We'll have it so—I'll supply you with a subject—The - battle between the Caledonians and Romans—The Caledoniad; or, - Invasion Repelled;—let that be the title—it will suit the - present taste, and you may throw in a touch of the times." - </p> - <p> - "But the invasion of Agricola was <i>not</i> repelled." - </p> - <p> - "No; but you are a poet—free of the corporation, and as little bound - down to truth or probability as Virgil himself—You may defeat the - Romans in spite of Tacitus." - </p> - <p> - "And pitch Agricola's camp at the Kaim of—what do you call it," - answered Lovel, "in defiance of Edie Ochiltree?" - </p> - <p> - "No more of that, an thou lovest me—And yet, I dare say, ye may - unwittingly speak most correct truth in both instances, in despite of the - <i>toga</i> of the historian and the blue gown of the mendicant." - </p> - <p> - "Gallantly counselled!—Well, I will do my best—your kindness - will assist me with local information." - </p> - <p> - "Will I not, man?—why, I will write the critical and historical - notes on each canto, and draw out the plan of the story myself. I pretend - to some poetical genius, Mr. Lovel, only I was never able to write - verses." - </p> - <p> - "It is a pity, sir, that you should have failed in a qualification - somewhat essential to the art." - </p> - <p> - "Essential?—not a whit—it is the mere mechanical department. A - man may be a poet without measuring spondees and dactyls like the - ancients, or clashing the ends of lines into rhyme like the moderns, as - one may be an architect though unable to labour like a stone-mason—Dost - think Palladio or Vitruvius ever carried a hod?" - </p> - <p> - "In that case, there should be two authors to each poem—one to think - and plan, another to execute." - </p> - <p> - "Why, it would not be amiss; at any rate, we'll make the experiment;—not - that I would wish to give my name to the public—assistance from a - learned friend might be acknowledged in the preface after what flourish - your nature will—I am a total stranger to authorial vanity." - </p> - <p> - Lovel was much entertained by a declaration not very consistent with the - eagerness wherewith his friend seemed to catch at an opportunity of coming - before the public, though in a manner which rather resembled stepping up - behind a carriage than getting into one. The Antiquary was indeed - uncommonly delighted; for, like many other men who spend their lives in - obscure literary research, he had a secret ambition to appear in print, - which was checked by cold fits of diffidence, fear of criticism, and - habits of indolence and procrastination. "But," thought he, "I may, like a - second Teucer, discharge my shafts from behind the shield of my ally; and, - admit that he should not prove to be a first-rate poet, I am in no shape - answerable for his deficiencies, and the good notes may very probably help - off an indifferent text. But he is—he must be a good poet; he has - the real Parnassian abstraction—seldom answers a question till it is - twice repeated—drinks his tea scalding, and eats without knowing - what he is putting into his mouth. This is the real <i>aestus,</i> the <i>awen</i> - of the Welsh bards, the <i>divinus afflatus</i> that transports the poet - beyond the limits of sublunary things. His visions, too, are very - symptomatical of poetic fury—I must recollect to send Caxon to see - he puts out his candle to-night—poets and visionaries are apt to be - negligent in that respect." Then, turning to his companion, he expressed - himself aloud in continuation— - </p> - <p> - "Yes, my dear Lovel, you shall have full notes; and, indeed, think we may - introduce the whole of the Essay on Castrametation into the appendix—it - will give great value to the work. Then we will revive the good old forms - so disgracefully neglected in modern times. You shall invoke the Muse—and - certainly she ought to be propitious to an author who, in an apostatizing - age, adheres with the faith of Abdiel to the ancient form of adoration.—Then - we must have a vision—in which the Genius of Caledonia shall appear - to Galgacus, and show him a procession of the real Scottish monarchs:—and - in the notes I will have a hit at Boethius—No; I must not touch that - topic, now that Sir Arthur is likely to have vexation enough besides—but - I'll annihilate Ossian, Macpherson, and Mac-Cribb." - </p> - <p> - "But we must consider the expense of publication," said Lovel, willing to - try whether this hint would fall like cold water on the blazing zeal of - his self-elected coadjutor. - </p> - <p> - "Expense!" said Mr. Oldbuck, pausing, and mechanically fumbling in his - pocket—"that is true;—I would wish to do something—but - you would not like to publish by subscription?" - </p> - <p> - "By no means," answered Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "No, no!" gladly acquiesced the Antiquary—"it is not respectable. - I'll tell you what: I believe I know a bookseller who has a value for my - opinion, and will risk print and paper, and I will get as many copies sold - for you as I can." - </p> - <p> - "O, I am no mercenary author," answered Lovel, smiling; "I only wish to be - out of risk of loss." - </p> - <p> - "Hush! hush! we'll take care of that—throw it all on the publishers. - I do long to see your labours commenced. You will choose blank verse, - doubtless?—it is more grand and magnificent for an historical - subject; and, what concerneth you, my friend, it is, I have an idea, more - easily written." - </p> - <p> - This conversation brought them to Monkbarns, where the Antiquary had to - undergo a chiding from his sister, who, though no philosopher, was waiting - to deliver a lecture to him in the portico. "Guide us, Monkbarns! are - things no dear eneugh already, but ye maun be raising the very fish on us, - by giving that randy, Luckie Mucklebackit, just what she likes to ask?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, Grizel," said the sage, somewhat abashed at this unexpected attack, - "I thought I made a very fair bargain." - </p> - <p> - "A fair bargain! when ye gied the limmer a full half o' what she seekit!—An - ye will be a wife-carle, and buy fish at your ain hands, ye suld never bid - muckle mair than a quarter. And the impudent quean had the assurance to - come up and seek a dram—But I trow, Jenny and I sorted her!" - </p> - <p> - "Truly," said Oldbuck (with a sly look to his companion), "I think our - estate was gracious that kept us out of hearing of that controversy.—Well, - well, Grizel, I was wrong for once in my life <i>ultra crepidam</i>—I - fairly admit. But hang expenses!—care killed a cat—we'll eat - the fish, cost what it will.—And then, Lovel, you must know I - pressed you to stay here to-day, the rather because our cheer will be - better than usual, yesterday having been a gaude' day—I love the - reversion of a feast better than the feast itself. I delight in the <i>analecta,</i> - the <i>collectanea,</i> as I may call them, of the preceding day's dinner, - which appear on such occasions—And see, there is Jenny going to ring - the dinner-bell." - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Be this letter delivered with haste—haste—post-haste! - Ride, villain, ride,—for thy life—for thy life—for thy life. - Ancient Indorsation of Letters of Importance. -</pre> - <p> - Leaving Mr. Oldbuck and his friend to enjoy their hard bargain of fish, we - beg leave to transport the reader to the back-parlour of the post-master's - house at Fairport, where his wife, he himself being absent, was employed - in assorting for delivery the letters which had come by the Edinburgh - post. This is very often in country towns the period of the day when - gossips find it particularly agreeable to call on the man or woman of - letters, in order, from the outside of the epistles, and, if they are not - belied, occasionally from the inside also, to amuse themselves with - gleaning information, or forming conjectures about the correspondence and - affairs of their neighbours. Two females of this description were, at the - time we mention, assisting, or impeding, Mrs. Mailsetter in her official - duty. - </p> - <p> - "Eh, preserve us, sirs!" said the butcher's wife, "there's ten— - eleven—twall letters to Tennant and Co.—thae folk do mair - business than a' the rest o' the burgh." - </p> - <p> - "Ay; but see, lass," answered the baker's lady, "there's twa o' them - faulded unco square, and sealed at the tae side—I doubt there will - be protested bills in them." - </p> - <p> - "Is there ony letters come yet for Jenny Caxon?" inquired the woman of - joints and giblets; "the lieutenant's been awa three weeks." - </p> - <p> - "Just ane on Tuesday was a week," answered the dame of letters. - </p> - <p> - "Wast a ship-letter?" asked the Fornerina. - </p> - <p> - "In troth wast." - </p> - <p> - "It wad be frae the lieutenant then," replied the mistress of the rolls, - somewhat disappointed—"I never thought he wad hae lookit ower his - shouther after her." - </p> - <p> - "Od, here's another," quoth Mrs. Mailsetter. "A ship-letter—post-mark, - Sunderland." All rushed to seize it.—"Na, na, leddies," said Mrs. - Mailsetter, interfering; "I hae had eneugh o' that wark—Ken ye that - Mr. Mailsetter got an unco rebuke frae the secretary at Edinburgh, for a - complaint that was made about the letter of Aily Bisset's that ye opened, - Mrs. Shortcake?" - </p> - <p> - "Me opened!" answered the spouse of the chief baker of Fairport; "ye ken - yoursell, madam, it just cam open o' free will in my hand—what could - I help it?—folk suld seal wi' better wax." - </p> - <p> - "Weel I wot that's true, too," said Mrs. Mailsetter, who kept a shop of - small wares, "and we have got some that I can honestly recommend, if ye - ken onybody wanting it. But the short and the lang o't is, that we'll lose - the place gin there's ony mair complaints o' the kind." - </p> - <p> - "Hout, lass—the provost will take care o' that." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, I'll neither trust to provost nor bailier" said the postmistress,—"but - I wad aye be obliging and neighbourly, and I'm no again your looking at - the outside of a letter neither—See, the seal has an anchor on't—he's - done't wi' ane o' his buttons, I'm thinking." - </p> - <p> - "Show me! show me!" quoth the wives of the chief butcher and chief baker; - and threw themselves on the supposed love-letter, like the weird sisters - in Macbeth upon the pilot's thumb, with curiosity as eager and scarcely - less malignant. Mrs. Heukbane was a tall woman—she held the precious - epistle up between her eyes and the window. Mrs. Shortcake, a little squat - personage, strained and stood on tiptoe to have her share of the - investigation. - </p> - <p> - "Ay, it's frae him, sure eneugh," said the butcher's lady;—"I can - read Richard Taffril on the corner, and it's written, like John Thomson's - wallet, frae end to end." - </p> - <p> - "Haud it lower down, madam," exclaimed Mrs. Shortcake, in a tone above the - prudential whisper which their occupation required—"haud it lower - down—Div ye think naebody can read hand o' writ but yoursell?" - </p> - <p> - "Whist, whist, sirs, for God's sake!" said Mrs. Mailsetter, "there's - somebody in the shop,"—then aloud—"Look to the customers, - Baby!"—Baby answered from without in a shrill tone—"It's - naebody but Jenny Caxon, ma'am, to see if there's ony letters to her." - </p> - <p> - "Tell her," said the faithful postmistress, winking to her compeers, "to - come back the morn at ten o'clock, and I'll let her ken—we havena - had time to sort the mail letters yet—she's aye in sic a hurry, as - if her letters were o' mair consequence than the best merchant's o' the - town." - </p> - <p> - Poor Jenny, a girl of uncommon beauty and modesty, could only draw her - cloak about her to hide the sigh of disappointment and return meekly home - to endure for another night the sickness of the heart occasioned by hope - delayed. - </p> - <p> - "There's something about a needle and a pole," said Mrs. Shortcake, to - whom her taller rival in gossiping had at length yielded a peep at the - subject of their curiosity. - </p> - <p> - "Now, that's downright shamefu'," said Mrs. Heukbane, "to scorn the poor - silly gait of a lassie after he's keepit company wi' her sae lang, and had - his will o' her, as I make nae doubt he has." - </p> - <p> - "It's but ower muckle to be doubted," echoed Mrs. Shortcake;—"to - cast up to her that her father's a barber and has a pole at his door, and - that she's but a manty-maker hersell! Hout fy for shame!" - </p> - <p> - "Hout tout, leddies," cried Mrs. Mailsetter, "ye're clean wrang—It's - a line out o' ane o' his sailors' sangs that I have heard him sing, about - being true like the needle to the pole." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, weel, I wish it may be sae," said the charitable Dame Heukbane,—"but - it disna look weel for a lassie like her to keep up a correspondence wi' - ane o' the king's officers." - </p> - <p> - "I'm no denying that," said Mrs. Mailsetter; "but it's a great advantage - to the revenue of the post-office thae love-letters. See, here's five or - six letters to Sir Arthur Wardour—maist o' them sealed wi' wafers, - and no wi' wax. There will be a downcome, there, believe me." - </p> - <p> - "Ay; they will be business letters, and no frae ony o' his grand friends, - that seals wi' their coats of arms, as they ca' them," said Mrs. Heukbane;—"pride - will hae a fa'—he hasna settled his account wi' my gudeman, the - deacon, for this twalmonth—he's but slink, I doubt." - </p> - <p> - "Nor wi' huz for sax months," echoed Mrs. Shortcake—"He's but a - brunt crust." - </p> - <p> - "There's a letter," interrupted the trusty postmistress, "from his son, - the captain, I'm thinking—the seal has the same things wi' the - Knockwinnock carriage. He'll be coming hame to see what he can save out o' - the fire." - </p> - <p> - The baronet thus dismissed, they took up the esquire—"Twa letters - for Monkbarns—they're frae some o' his learned friends now; see sae - close as they're written, down to the very seal—and a' to save - sending a double letter—that's just like Monkbarns himsell. When he - gets a frank he fills it up exact to the weight of an unce, that a - carvy-seed would sink the scale—but he's neer a grain abune it. Weel - I wot I wad be broken if I were to gie sic weight to the folk that come to - buy our pepper and brimstone, and suchlike sweetmeats." - </p> - <p> - "He's a shabby body the laird o' Monkbarns," said Mrs. Heukbane; "he'll - make as muckle about buying a forequarter o' lamb in August as about a - back sey o' beef. Let's taste another drop of the sinning" (perhaps she - meant <i>cinnamon</i>) "waters, Mrs. Mailsetter, my dear. Ah, lasses! an - ye had kend his brother as I did—mony a time he wad slip in to see - me wi' a brace o' wild deukes in his pouch, when my first gudeman was awa - at the Falkirk tryst—weel, weel—we'se no speak o' that - e'enow." - </p> - <p> - "I winna say ony ill o'this Monkbarns," said Mrs. Shortcake; "his brother - neer brought me ony wild-deukes, and this is a douce honest man; we serve - the family wi' bread, and he settles wi' huz ilka week—only he was - in an unco kippage when we sent him a book instead o' the <i>nick-sticks,</i>* - whilk, he said, were the true ancient way o' counting between tradesmen - and customers; and sae they are, nae doubt." - </p> - <p> - * Note E. Nick-sticks. - </p> - <p> - "But look here, lasses," interrupted Mrs. Mailsetter, "here's a sight for - sair e'en! What wad ye gie to ken what's in the inside o' this letter? - This is new corn—I haena seen the like o' this—For William - Lovel, Esquire, at Mrs. Hadoway's, High Street, Fairport, by Edinburgh, N. - B. This is just the second letter he has had since he was here." - </p> - <p> - "Lord's sake, let's see, lass!—Lord's sake, let's see!—that's - him that the hale town kens naething about—and a weel-fa'ard lad he - is; let's see, let's see!" Thus ejaculated the two worthy representatives - of mother Eve. - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, sirs," exclaimed Mrs. Mailsetter; "haud awa—bide aff, I - tell you; this is nane o' your fourpenny cuts that we might make up the - value to the post-office amang ourselves if ony mischance befell it;—the - postage is five-and-twenty shillings—and here's an order frae the - Secretary to forward it to the young gentleman by express, if he's no at - hame. Na, na, sirs, bide aff;—this maunna be roughly guided." - </p> - <p> - "But just let's look at the outside o't, woman." - </p> - <p> - Nothing could be gathered from the outside, except remarks on the various - properties which philosophers ascribe to matter,—length, breadth, - depth, and weight, The packet was composed of strong thick paper, - imperviable by the curious eyes of the gossips, though they stared as if - they would burst from their sockets. The seal was a deep and well-cut - impression of arms, which defied all tampering. - </p> - <p> - "Od, lass," said Mrs. Shortcake, weighing it in her hand, and wishing, - doubtless, that the too, too solid wax would melt and dissolve itself, "I - wad like to ken what's in the inside o' this, for that Lovel dings a' that - ever set foot on the plainstanes o' Fairport—naebody kens what to - make o' him." - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0009" id="image-0009"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa185.jpg" alt="Mrs. Heukbane and Mrs. Shortcake " - width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - "Weel, weel, leddies," said the postmistress, "we'se sit down and crack - about it.—Baby, bring ben the tea-water—Muckle obliged to ye - for your cookies, Mrs. Shortcake—and we'll steek the shop, and cry - ben Baby, and take a hand at the cartes till the gudeman comes hame—and - then we'll try your braw veal sweetbread that ye were so kind as send me, - Mrs. Heukbane." - </p> - <p> - "But winna ye first send awa Mr. Lovel's letter?" said Mrs. Heukbane. - </p> - <p> - "Troth I kenna wha to send wi't till the gudeman comes hame, for auld - Caxon tell'd me that Mr. Lovel stays a' the day at Monkbarns—he's in - a high fever, wi' pu'ing the laird and Sir Arthur out o' the sea." - </p> - <p> - "Silly auld doited carles!" said Mrs. Shortcake; "what gar'd them gang to - the douking in a night like yestreen!" - </p> - <p> - "I was gi'en to understand it was auld Edie that saved them," said Mrs. - Heukbane—"Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-Gown, ye ken; and that he pu'd - the hale three out of the auld fish-pound, for Monkbarns had threepit on - them to gang in till't to see the wark o' the monks lang syne." - </p> - <p> - "Hout, lass, nonsense!" answered the postmistress; "I'll tell ye, a' about - it, as Caxon tell'd it to me. Ye see, Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour, and Mr. - Lovel, suld hae dined at Monkbarns"— - </p> - <p> - "But, Mrs. Mailsetter," again interrupted Mrs. Heukbane, "will ye no be - for sending awa this letter by express?—there's our powny and our - callant hae gane express for the office or now, and the powny hasna gane - abune thirty mile the day;—Jock was sorting him up as I came ower - by." - </p> - <p> - "Why, Mrs. Heukbane," said the woman of letters, pursing up her mouth, "ye - ken my gudeman likes to ride the expresses himsell—we maun gie our - ain fish-guts to our ain sea-maws—it's a red half-guinea to him - every time he munts his mear; and I dare say he'll be in sune—or I - dare to say, it's the same thing whether the gentleman gets the express - this night or early next morning." - </p> - <p> - "Only that Mr. Lovel will be in town before the express gaes aff," said - Mrs. Heukbane; "and where are ye then, lass? But ye ken yere ain ways - best." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, weel, Mrs. Heukbane," answered Mrs. Mailsetter, a little out of - humour, and even out of countenance, "I am sure I am never against being - neighbour-like, and living and letting live, as they say; and since I hae - been sic a fule as to show you the post-office order—ou, nae doubt, - it maun be obeyed. But I'll no need your callant, mony thanks to ye—I'll - send little Davie on your powny, and that will be just five-and-threepence - to ilka ane o' us, ye ken." - </p> - <p> - "Davie! the Lord help ye, the bairn's no ten year auld; and, to be plain - wi' ye, our powny reists a bit, and it's dooms sweer to the road, and - naebody can manage him but our Jock." - </p> - <p> - "I'm sorry for that," answered the postmistress, gravely; "it's like we - maun wait then till the gudeman comes hame, after a'—for I wadna - like to be responsible in trusting the letter to sic a callant as Jock—our - Davie belangs in a manner to the office." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, aweel, Mrs. Mailsetter, I see what ye wad be at—but an ye - like to risk the bairn, I'll risk the beast." - </p> - <p> - Orders were accordingly given. The unwilling pony was brought out of his - bed of straw, and again equipped for service—Davie (a leathern - post-bag strapped across his shoulders) was perched upon the saddle, with - a tear in his eye, and a switch in his hand. Jock good-naturedly led the - animal out of town, and, by the crack of his whip, and the whoop and - halloo of his too well-known voice, compelled it to take the road towards - Monkbarns. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile the gossips, like the sibyls after consulting their leaves, - arranged and combined the information of the evening, which flew next - morning through a hundred channels, and in a hundred varieties, through - the world of Fairport. Many, strange, and inconsistent, were the rumours - to which their communications and conjectures gave rise. Some said Tennant - and Co. were broken, and that all their bills had come back protested—others - that they had got a great contract from Government, and letters from the - principal merchants at Glasgow, desiring to have shares upon a premium. - One report stated, that Lieutenant Taffril had acknowledged a private - marriage with Jenny Caxon—another, that he had sent her a letter - upbraiding her with the lowness of her birth and education, and bidding - her an eternal adieu. It was generally rumoured that Sir Arthur Wardour's - affairs had fallen into irretrievable confusion, and this report was only - doubted by the wise, because it was traced to Mrs. Mailsetter's shop,—a - source more famous for the circulation of news than for their accuracy. - But all agreed that a packet from the Secretary of State's office, had - arrived, directed for Mr. Lovel, and that it had been forwarded by an - orderly dragoon, despatched from the head-quarters at Edinburgh, who had - galloped through Fairport without stopping, except just to inquire the way - to Monkbarns. The reason of such an extraordinary mission to a very - peaceful and retired individual, was variously explained. Some said Lovel - was an emigrant noble, summoned to head an insurrection that had broken - out in La Vende'e—others that he was a spy—others that he was - a general officer, who was visiting the coast privately—others that - he was a prince of the blood, who was travelling <i>incognito.</i> - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile the progress of the packet which occasioned so much speculation, - towards its destined owner at Monkbarns, had been perilous and - interrupted. The bearer, Davie Mailsetter, as little resembling a bold - dragoon as could well be imagined, was carried onwards towards Monkbarns - by the pony, so long as the animal had in his recollection the crack of - his usual instrument of chastisement, and the shout of the butcher's boy. - But feeling how Davie, whose short legs were unequal to maintain his - balance, swung to and fro upon his back, the pony began to disdain furthur - compliance with the intimations he had received. First, then, he slackened - his pace to a walk This was no point of quarrel between him and his rider, - who had been considerably discomposed by the rapidity of his former - motion, and who now took the opportunity of his abated pace to gnaw a - piece of gingerbread, which had been thrust into his hand by his mother in - order to reconcile this youthful emissary of the post-office to the - discharge of his duty. By and by, the crafty pony availed himself of this - surcease of discipline to twitch the rein out of Davies hands, and applied - himself to browse on the grass by the side of the lane. Sorely astounded - by these symptoms of self-willed rebellion, and afraid alike to sit or to - fall, poor Davie lifted up his voice and wept aloud. The pony, hearing - this pudder over his head, began apparently to think it would be best both - for himself and Davie to return from whence they came, and accordingly - commenced a retrograde movement towards Fairport. But, as all retreats are - apt to end in utter rout, so the steed, alarmed by the boy's cries, and by - the flapping of the reins, which dangled about his forefeet—finding - also his nose turned homeward, began to set off at a rate which, if Davie - kept the saddle (a matter extremely dubious), would soon have presented - him at Heukbane's stable-door,—when, at a turn of the road, an - intervening auxiliary, in the shape of old Edie Ochiltree, caught hold of - the rein, and stopped his farther proceeding. "Wha's aught ye, callant? - whaten a gate's that to ride?" - </p> - <p> - "I canna help it!" blubbered the express; "they ca' me little Davie." - </p> - <p> - "And where are ye gaun?" - </p> - <p> - "I'm gaun to Monkbarns wi' a letter." - </p> - <p> - "Stirra, this is no the road to Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - But Davie could oinly answer the expostulation with sighs and tears. - </p> - <p> - Old Edie was easily moved to compassion where childhood was in the - case.--"I wasna gaun that gate," he thought, "but it's the best o' my way - o' life that I canna be weel out o' my road. They'll gie me quarters at - Monkbarns readily eneugh, and I'll e'en hirple awa there wi' the wean, for - it will knock its hams out, puir thing, if there's no somebody to guide - the pony.—Sae ye hae a letter, hinney? will ye let me see't?" - </p> - <p> - "I'm no gaun to let naebody see the letter," sobbed the boy, "till I gie't - to Mr. Lovel, for I am a faithfu' servant o' the office—if it werena - for the powny." - </p> - <p> - "Very right, my little man," said Ochiltree, turning the reluctant pony's - head towards Monkbarns; "but we'll guide him atween us, if he's no a' the - sweerer." - </p> - <p> - Upon the very height of Kinprunes, to which Monkbarns had invited Lovel - after their dinner, the Antiquary, again reconciled to the once degraded - spot, was expatiating upon the topics the scenery afforded for a - description of Agricola's camp at the dawn of morning, when his eye was - caught by the appearance of the mendicant and his protegee. "What the - devil!—here comes Old Edie, bag and baggage, I think." - </p> - <p> - The beggar explained his errand, and Davie, who insisted upon a literal - execution of his commission by going on to Monkbarns, was with difficulty - prevailed upon to surrender the packet to its proper owner, although he - met him a mile nearer than the place he had been directed to. "But my - minnie said, I maun be sure to get twenty shillings and five shillings for - the postage, and ten shillings and sixpence for the express—there's - the paper." - </p> - <p> - "Let me see—let me see," said Oldbuck, putting on his spectacles, - and examining the crumpled copy of regulations to which Davie appealed. - "Express, per man and horse, one day, not to exceed ten shillings and - sixpence. One day? why, it's not an hour—Man and horse? why, 'tis a - monkey on a starved cat!" - </p> - <p> - "Father wad hae come himsell," said Davie, "on the muckle red mear, an ye - wad hae bidden till the morn's night." - </p> - <p> - "Four-and-twenty hours after the regular date of delivery! You little - cockatrice egg, do you understand the art of imposition so early?" - </p> - <p> - "Hout Monkbarns! dinna set your wit against a bairn," said the beggar; - "mind the butcher risked his beast, and the wife her wean, and I am sure - ten and sixpence isna ower muckle. Ye didna gang sae near wi' Johnnie - Howie, when"— - </p> - <p> - Lovel, who, sitting on the supposed <i>Praetorium,</i> had glanced over - the contents of the packet, now put an end to the altercation by paying - Davies demand; and then turning to Mr. Oldbuck, with a look of much - agitation, he excused himself from returning with him to Monkbarns' that - evening.—"I must instantly go to Fairport, and perhaps leave it on a - moment's notice;—your kindness, Mr. Oldbuck, I can never forget." - </p> - <p> - "No bad news, I hope?" said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Of a very chequered complexion," answered his friend. "Farewell—in - good or bad fortune I will not forget your regard." - </p> - <p> - "Nay, nay—stop a moment. If—if—" (making an effort)—"if - there be any pecuniary inconvenience—I have fifty—or a hundred - guineas at your service—till—till Whitsunday—or indeed - as long as you please." - </p> - <p> - "I am much obliged, Mr. Oldbuck, but I am amply provided," said his - mysterious young friend. "Excuse me—I really cannot sustain further - conversation at present. I will write or see you, before I leave Fairport—that - is, if I find myself obliged to go." - </p> - <p> - So saying, he shook the Antiquary's hand warmly, turned from him, and - walked rapidly towards the town, "staying no longer question." - </p> - <p> - "Very extraordinary indeed!" said Oldbuck;—"but there's something - about this lad I can never fathom; and yet I cannot for my heart think ill - of him neither. I must go home and take off the fire in the Green Room, - for none of my womankind will venture into it after twilight." - </p> - <p> - "And how am I to win hame?" blubbered the disconsolate express. - </p> - <p> - "It's a fine night," said the Blue-Gown, looking up to the skies; "I had - as gude gang back to the town, and take care o' the wean." - </p> - <p> - "Do so, do so, Edie;" and rummaging for some time in his huge waistcoat - pocket till he found the object of his search, the Antiquary added, - "there's sixpence to ye to buy sneeshin." - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal has not - given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it could - not be else. I have drunk medicines." - Second Part of Henry IV. -</pre> - <p> - Regular for a fortnight were the inquiries of the Antiquary at the veteran - Caxon, whether he had heard what Mr. Lovel was about; and as regular were - Caxon's answers, "that the town could learn naething about him whatever, - except that he had received anither muckle letter or twa frae the south, - and that he was never seen on the plainstanes at a'." - </p> - <p> - "How does he live, Caxon?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, Mrs. Hadoway just dresses him a beefsteak or a muttonchop, or makes - him some Friar's chicken, or just what she likes hersell, and he eats it - in the little red parlour off his bedroom. She canna get him to say that - he likes ae thing better than anither; and she makes him tea in a morning, - and he settles honourably wi' her every week." - </p> - <p> - "But does he never stir abroad?" - </p> - <p> - "He has clean gi'en up walking, and he sits a' day in his room reading or - writing; a hantle letters he has written, but he wadna put them into our - post-house, though Mrs. Hadoway offered to carry them hersell, but sent - them a' under ae cover to the sheriff; and it's Mrs. Mailsetter's belief, - that the sheriff sent his groom to put them into the post-office at - Tannonburgh; it's my puir thought, that he jaloused their looking into his - letters at Fairport; and weel had he need, for my puir daughter Jenny"— - </p> - <p> - "Tut, don't plague me with your womankind, Caxon. About this poor young - lad.—Does he write nothing but letters?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, ay—hale sheets o' other things, Mrs. Hadoway says. She wishes - muckle he could be gotten to take a walk; she thinks he's but looking very - puirly, and his appetite's clean gane; but he'll no hear o' ganging ower - the door-stane—him that used to walk sae muckle too." - </p> - <p> - "That's wrong—I have a guess what he's busy about; but he must not - work too hard neither. I'll go and see him this very day—he's deep, - doubtless, in the Caledoniad." - </p> - <p> - Having formed this manful resolution, Mr. Oldbuck equipped himself for the - expedition with his thick walking-shoes and gold-headed cane, muttering - the while the words of Falstaff which we have chosen for the motto of this - CHAPTER; for the Antiquary was himself rather surprised at the degree of - attachment which he could not but acknowledge be entertained for this - stranger. The riddle was notwithstanding easily solved. Lovel had many - attractive qualities, but he won our Antiquary's heart by being on most - occasions an excellent listener. - </p> - <p> - A walk to Fairport had become somewhat of an adventure with Mr. Oldbuck, - and one which he did not often care to undertake. He hated greetings in - the market-place; and there were generally loiterers in the streets to - persecute him, either about the news of the day, or about some petty - pieces of business. So, on this occasion, he had no sooner entered the - streets of Fairport, than it was "Good-morrow, Mr. Oldbuck—a sight - o' you's gude, for sair een: what d'ye think of the news in the Sun the - day?—they say the great attempt will be made in a fortnight." - </p> - <p> - "I wish to the Lord it were made and over, that I might hear no more about - it." - </p> - <p> - "Monkbarns, your honour," said the nursery and seedsman, "I hope the - plants gied satisfaction?—and if ye wanted ony flower-roots fresh - frae Holland, or" (this in a lower key) "an anker or twa o' Cologne gin, - ane o' our brigs cam in yestreen." - </p> - <p> - "Thank ye, thank ye,—no occasion at present, Mr. Crabtree," said the - Antiquary, pushing resolutely onward. - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Oldbuck," said the town-clerk (a more important person, who came in - front and ventured to stop the old gentleman), "the provost, understanding - you were in town, begs on no account that you'll quit it without seeing - him; he wants to speak to ye about bringing the water frae the - Fairwell-spring through a part o' your lands." - </p> - <p> - "What the deuce!—have they nobody's land but mine to cut and carve - on?—I won't consent, tell them." - </p> - <p> - "And the provost," said the clerk, going on, without noticing the rebuff, - "and the council, wad be agreeable that you should hae the auld stones at - Donagild's chapel, that ye was wussing to hae." - </p> - <p> - "Eh!—what?—Oho! that's another story—Well, well, I'll - call upon the provost, and we'll talk about it." - </p> - <p> - "But ye maun speak your mind on't forthwith, Monkbarns, if ye want the - stones; for Deacon Harlewalls thinks the carved through-stanes might be - put with advantage on the front of the new council-house—that is, - the twa cross-legged figures that the callants used to ca' Robin and - Bobbin, ane on ilka door-cheek; and the other stane, that they ca'd Ailie - Dailie, abune the door. It will be very tastefu', the Deacon says, and - just in the style of modern Gothic." - </p> - <p> - "Lord deliver me from this Gothic generation!" exclaimed the Antiquary,—"A - monument of a knight-templar on each side of a Grecian porch, and a - Madonna on the top of it!—<i>O crimini!</i>—Well, tell the - provost I wish to have the stones, and we'll not differ about the - water-course. It's lucky I happened to come this way to-day." - </p> - <p> - They parted mutually satisfied; but the wily clerk had most reason to - exult in the dexterity he had displayed, since the whole proposal of an - exchange between the monuments (which the council had determined to remove - as a nuisance, because they encroached three feet upon the public road), - and the privilege of conveying the water to the burgh through the estate - of Monkbarns, was an idea which had originated with himself upon the - pressure of the moment. - </p> - <p> - Through these various entanglements, Monkbarns (to use the phrase by which - he was distinguished in the country) made his way at length to Mrs. - Hadoway's. This good woman was the widow of a late clergyman at Fairport, - who had been reduced by her husband's untimely death, to that state of - straitened and embarrassed circumstances in which the widows of the Scotch - clergy are too often found. The tenement which she occupied, and the - furniture of which she was possessed, gave her the means of letting a part - of her house; and as Lovel had been a quiet, regular, and profitable - lodger, and had qualified the necessary intercourse which they had - together with a great deal of gentleness and courtesy, Mrs. Hadoway, not, - perhaps, much used to such kindly treatment, had become greatly attached - to her lodger, and was profuse in every sort of personal attention which - circumstances permitted her to render him. To cook a dish somewhat better - than ordinary for "the poor young gentleman's dinner;" to exert her - interest with those who remembered her husband, or loved her for her own - sake and his, in order to procure scarce vegetables, or something which - her simplicity supposed might tempt her lodger's appetite, was a labour in - which she delighted, although she anxiously concealed it from the person - who was its object. She did not adopt this secrecy of benevolence to avoid - the laugh of those who might suppose that an oval face and dark eyes, with - a clear brown complexion, though belonging to a woman of five-and-forty, - and enclosed within a widow's close-drawn pinners, might possibly still - aim at making conquests; for, to say truth, such a ridiculous suspicion - having never entered into her own head, she could not anticipate its - having birth in that of any one else. But she concealed her attentions - solely out of delicacy to her guest, whose power of repaying them she - doubted as much as she believed in his inclination to do so, and in his - being likely to feel extreme pain at leaving any of her civilities - unrequited. She now opened the door to Mr. Oldbuck, and her surprise at - seeing him brought tears into her eyes, which she could hardly restrain. - </p> - <p> - "I am glad to see you, sir—I am very glad to see you. My poor - gentleman is, I am afraid, very unwell; and oh, Mr. Oldbuck, he'll see - neither doctor, nor minister, nor writer! And think what it would be, if, - as my poor Mr. Hadoway used to say, a man was to die without advice of the - three learned faculties!" - </p> - <p> - "Greatly better than with them," grumbled the cynical Antiquary. "I tell - you, Mrs. Hadoway, the clergy live by our sins, the medical faculty by our - diseases, and the law gentry by our misfortunes." - </p> - <p> - "O fie, Monkbarns!—to hear the like o' that frae you!—But yell - walk up and see the poor young lad?—Hegh sirs? sae young and - weel-favoured—and day by day he has eat less and less, and now he - hardly touches onything, only just pits a bit on the plate to make fashion—and - his poor cheek has turned every day thinner and paler, sae that he now - really looks as auld as me, that might be his mother—no that I might - be just that neither, but something very near it." - </p> - <p> - "Why does he not take some exercise?" said Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "I think we have persuaded him to do that, for he has bought a horse from - Gibbie Golightly, the galloping groom. A gude judge o' horse-flesh Gibbie - tauld our lass that he was—for he offered him a beast he thought wad - answer him weel eneugh, as he was a bookish man, but Mr. Lovel wadna look - at it, and bought ane might serve the Master o' Morphie—they keep it - at the Graeme's Arms, ower the street;—and he rode out yesterday - morning and this morning before breakfast—But winna ye walk up to - his room?" - </p> - <p> - "Presently, presently. But has he no visitors?" - </p> - <p> - "O dear, Mr. Oldbuck, not ane; if he wadna receive them when he was weel - and sprightly, what chance is there of onybody in Fairport looking in upon - him now?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay, very true,—I should have been surprised had it been - otherwise—Come, show me up stairs, Mrs. Hadoway, lest I make a - blunder, and go where I should not." - </p> - <p> - The good landlady showed Mr. Oldbuck up her narrow staircase, warning him - of every turn, and lamenting all the while that he was laid under the - necessity of mounting up so high. At length she gently tapped at the door - of her guest's parlour. "Come in," said Lovel; and Mrs. Hadoway ushered in - the Laird of Monkbarns. - </p> - <p> - The little apartment was neat and clean, and decently furnished—ornamented, - too, by such relics of her youthful arts of sempstress-ship as Mrs. - Hadoway had retained; but it was close, overheated, and, as it appeared to - Oldbuck, an unwholesome situation for a young person in delicate health,—an - observation which ripened his resolution touching a project that had - already occurred to him in Lovel's behalf. With a writing-table before - him, on which lay a quantity of books and papers, Lovel was seated on a - couch, in his night-gown and slippers. Oldbuck was shocked at the change - which had taken place in his personal appearance. His cheek and brow had - assumed a ghastly white, except where a round bright spot of hectic red - formed a strong and painful contrast, totally different from the general - cast of hale and hardy complexion which had formerly overspread and - somewhat embrowned his countenance. Oldbuck observed, that the dress he - wore belonged to a deep mourning suit, and a coat of the same colour hung - on a chair near to him. As the Antiquary entered, Lovel arose and came - forward to welcome him. - </p> - <p> - "This is very kind," he said, shaking him by the hand, and thanking him - warmly for his visit—"this is very kind, and has anticipated a visit - with which I intended to trouble you. You must know I have become a - horseman lately." - </p> - <p> - "I understand as much from Mrs. Hadoway—I only hope, my good young - friend, you have been fortunate in a quiet horse. I myself inadvertently - bought one from the said Gibbie Golightly, which brute ran two miles on - end with me after a pack of hounds, with which I had no more to do than - the last year's snow; and after affording infinite amusement, I suppose, - to the whole hunting field, he was so good as to deposit me in a dry ditch—I - hope yours is a more peaceful beast?" - </p> - <p> - "I hope, at least, we shall make our excursions on a better plan of mutual - understanding." - </p> - <p> - "That is to say, you think yourself a good horseman?" - </p> - <p> - "I would not willingly," answered Lovel, "confess myself a very bad one." - </p> - <p> - "No—all you young fellows think that would be equal to calling - yourselves tailors at once—But have you had experience? for, <i>crede - experto,</i> a horse in a passion is no joker." - </p> - <p> - "Why, I should be sorry to boast myself as a great horseman; but when I - acted as aide-de-camp to Sir——in the cavalry action at—, - last year, I saw many better cavaliers than myself dismounted." - </p> - <p> - "Ah! you have looked in the face of the grisly god of arms then?—you - are acquainted with the frowns of Mars armipotent? That experience fills - up the measure of your qualifications for the epopea! The Britons, - however, you will remember, fought in chariots—<i>covinarii</i> is - the phrase of Tacitus;—you recollect the fine description of their - dashing among the Roman infantry, although the historian tells us how ill - the rugged face of the ground was calculated for equestrian combat; and - truly, upon the whole, what sort of chariots could be driven in Scotland - anywhere but on turnpike roads, has been to me always matter of amazement. - And well now—has the Muse visited you?—have you got anything - to show me?" - </p> - <p> - "My time," said Lovel, with a glance at his black dress, "has been less - pleasantly employed." - </p> - <p> - "The death of a friend?" said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Yes, Mr. Oldbuck—of almost the only friend I could ever boast of - possessing." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed? Well, young man," replied his visitor, in a tone of seriousness - very different from his affected gravity, "be comforted. To have lost a - friend by death while your mutual regard was warm and unchilled, while the - tear can drop unembittered by any painful recollection of coldness or - distrust or treachery, is perhaps an escape from a more heavy - dispensation. Look round you—how few do you see grow old in the - affections of those with whom their early friendships were formed! Our - sources of common pleasure gradually dry up as we journey on through the - vale of Bacha, and we hew out to ourselves other reservoirs, from which - the first companions of our pilgrimage are excluded;—jealousies, - rivalries, envy, intervene to separate others from our side, until none - remain but those who are connected with us rather by habit than - predilection, or who, allied more in blood than in disposition, only keep - the old man company in his life, that they may not be forgotten at his - death— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - <i>Haec data poena diu viventibus.</i> -</pre> - <p> - Ah, Mr. Lovel! if it be your lot to reach the chill, cloudy, and - comfortless evening of life, you will remember the sorrows of your youth - as the light shadowy clouds that intercepted for a moment the beams of the - sun when it was rising. But I cram these words into your ears against the - stomach of your sense." - </p> - <p> - "I am sensible of your kindness," answered the youth; "but the wound that - is of recent infliction must always smart severely, and I should be little - comforted under my present calamity—forgive me for saying so—by - the conviction that life had nothing in reserve for me but a train of - successive sorrows. And permit me to add, you, Mr. Oldbuck, have least - reason of many men to take so gloomy a view of life. You have a competent - and easy fortune—are generally respected—may, in your own - phrase, <i>vacare musis,</i> indulge yourself in the researches to which - your taste addicts you; you may form your own society without doors—and - within you have the affectionate and sedulous attention of the nearest - relatives." - </p> - <p> - "Why, yes—the womankind, for womankind, are, thanks to my training, - very civil and tractable—do not disturb me in my morning studies—creep - across the floor with the stealthy pace of a cat, when it suits me to take - a nap in my easy-chair after dinner or tea. All this is very well; but I - want something to exchange ideas with—something to talk to." - </p> - <p> - "Then why do you not invite your nephew, Captain M'Intyre, who is - mentioned by every one as a fine spirited young fellow, to become a member - of your family?" - </p> - <p> - "Who?" exclaimed Monkbarns, "my nephew Hector?—the Hotspur of the - North? Why, Heaven love you, I would as soon invite a firebrand into my - stackyard. He's an Almanzor, a Chamont—has a Highland pedigree as - long as his claymore, and a claymore as long as the High Street of - Fairport, which he unsheathed upon the surgeon the last time he was at - Fairport. I expect him here one of these days; but I will keep him at - staff's end, I promise you. He an inmate of my house! to make my very - chairs and tables tremble at his brawls. No, no—I'll none of Hector - M'Intyre. But hark ye, Lovel;—you are a quiet, gentle-tempered lad; - had not you better set up your staff at Monkbarns for a month or two, - since I conclude you do not immediately intend to leave this country?—I - will have a door opened out to the garden—it will cost but a trifle—there - is the space for an old one which was condemned long ago—by which - said door you may pass and repass into the Green Chamber at pleasure, so - you will not interfere with the old man, nor he with you. As for your - fare, Mrs. Hadoway tells me you are, as she terms it, very moderate of - your mouth, so you will not quarrel with my humble table. Your washing"— - </p> - <p> - "Hold, my dear Mr. Oldbuck," interposed Lovel, unable to repress a smile; - "and before your hospitality settles all my accommodations, let me thank - you most sincerely for so kind an offer—it is not at present in my - power to accept of it; but very likely, before I bid adieu to Scotland, I - shall find an opportunity to pay you a visit of some length." - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck's countenance fell. "Why, I thought I had hit on the very - arrangement that would suit us both,—and who knows what might happen - in the long run, and whether we might ever part? Why, I am master of my - acres, man—there is the advantage of being descended from a man of - more sense than pride—they cannot oblige me to transmit my goods - chattels, and heritages, any way but as I please. No string of substitute - heirs of entail, as empty and unsubstantial as the morsels of paper strung - to the train of a boy's kite, to cumber my flights of inclination, and my - humours of predilection. Well,—I see you won't be tempted at present—but - Caledonia goes on I hope?" - </p> - <p> - "O certainly," said Lovel; "I cannot think of relinquishing a plan so - hopeful." - </p> - <p> - "It is indeed," said the Antiquary, looking gravely upward,—for, - though shrewd and acute enough in estimating the variety of plans formed - by others, he had a very natural, though rather disproportioned good - opinion of the importance of those which originated with himself—"it - is indeed one of those undertakings which, if achieved with spirit equal - to that which dictates its conception, may redeem from the charge of - frivolity the literature of the present generation." - </p> - <p> - Here he was interrupted by a knock at the room door, which introduced a - letter for Mr. Lovel. The servant waited, Mrs. Hadoway said, for an - answer. "You are concerned in this matter, Mr. Oldbuck," said Lovel, after - glancing over the billet, and handing it to the Antiquary as he spoke. - </p> - <p> - It was a letter from Sir Arthur Wardour, couched in extremely civil - language, regetting that a fit of the gout had prevented his hitherto - showing Mr. Lovel the attentions to which his conduct during a late - perilous occasion had so well entitled him—apologizing for not - paying his respects in person, but hoping Mr. Lovel would dispense with - that ceremony, and be a member of a small party which proposed to visit - the ruins of Saint Ruth's priory on the following day, and afterwards to - dine and spend the evening at Knockwinnock Castle. Sir Arthur concluded - with saying, that he had sent to request the Monkbarns family to join the - party of pleasure which he thus proposed. The place of rendezvous was - fixed at a turnpike-gate, which was about an equal distance from all the - points from which the company were to assemble. - </p> - <p> - "What shall we do?" said Lovel, looking at the Antiquary, but pretty - certain of the part he would take. - </p> - <p> - "Go, man—we'll go, by all means. Let me see—it will cost a - post-chaise though, which will hold you and me, and Mary M'Intyre, very - well—and the other womankind may go to the manse—and you can - come out in the chaise to Monkbarns, as I will take it for the day." - </p> - <p> - "Why, I rather think I had better ride." - </p> - <p> - "True, true, I forgot your Bucephalus. You are a foolish lad, by the by, - for purchasing the brute outright; you should stick to eighteenpence a - side, if you will trust any creature's legs in preference to your own." - </p> - <p> - "Why, as the horse's have the advantage of moving considerably faster, and - are, besides, two pair to one, I own I incline"— - </p> - <p> - "Enough said—enough said—do as you please. Well then, I'll - bring either Grizel or the minister, for I love to have my full pennyworth - out of post-horses—and we meet at Tirlingen turnpike on Friday, at - twelve o'clock precisely. "—And with this ageement the friends - separated. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Of seats they tell, where priests, 'mid tapers dim, - Breathed the warm prayer, or tuned the midnight hymn - To scenes like these the fainting soul retired; - Revenge and Anger in these cells expired: - By Pity soothed, Remorse lost half her fears, - And softened Pride dropped penitential tears. - Crabbe's Borough. -</pre> - <p> - The morning of Friday was as serene and beautiful as if no pleasure party - had been intended; and that is a rare event, whether in novel-writing or - real life. Lovel, who felt the genial influence of the weather, and - rejoiced at the prospect of once more meeting with Miss Wardour, trotted - forward to the place of rendezvous with better spirits than he had for - some time enjoyed. His prospects seemed in many respects to open and - brighten before him—and hope, although breaking like the morning sun - through clouds and showers, appeared now about to illuminate the path - before him. He was, as might have been expected from this state of - spirits, first at the place of meeting,—and, as might also have been - anticipated, his looks were so intently directed towards the road from - Knockwinnock Castles that he was only apprized of the arrival of the - Monkbarns division by the gee-hupping of the postilion, as the post-chaise - lumbered up behind him. In this vehicle were pent up, first, the stately - figure of Mr. Oldbuck himself; secondly, the scarce less portly person of - the Reverend Mr. Blattergowl, minister of Trotcosey, the parish in which - Monkbarns and Knockwinnock were both situated. The reverend gentleman was - equipped in a buzz wig, upon the top of which was an equilateral cocked - hat. This was the paragon of the three yet remaining wigs of the parish, - which differed, as Monkbarns used to remark, like the three degrees of - comparison—Sir Arthur's ramilies being the positive, his own bob-wig - the comparative, and the overwhelming grizzle of the worthy clergyman - figuring as the superlative. The superintendent of these antique - garnitures, deeming, or affecting to deem, that he could not well be - absent on an occasion which assembled all three together, had seated - himself on the board behind the carriage, "just to be in the way in case - they wanted a touch before the gentlemen sat down to dinner." Between the - two massive figures of Monkbarns and the clergyman was stuck, by way of - bodkin, the slim form of Mary M'Intyre, her aunt having preferred a visit - to the manse, and a social chat with Miss Beckie Blattergowl, to - investigating the ruins of the priory of Saint Ruth. - </p> - <p> - As greetings passed between the members of the Monkbarns party and Mr. - Lovel, the Baronet's carriage, an open barouche, swept onward to the place - of appointment, making, with its smoking bays, smart drivers, arms, - blazoned panels, and a brace of outriders, a strong contrast with the - battered vehicle and broken-winded hacks which had brought thither the - Antiquary and his followers. The principal seat of the carriage was - occupied by Sir Arthur and his daughter. At the first glance which passed - betwixt Miss Wardour and Lovel, her colour rose considerably;—but - she had apparently made up her mind to receive him as a friend, and only - as such, and there was equal composure and courtesy in the mode of her - reply to his fluttered salutation. Sir Arthur halted the barouche to shake - his preserver kindly by the hand, and intimate the pleasure he had on this - opportunity of returning him his personal thanks; then mentioned to him, - in a tone of slight introduction, "Mr. Dousterswivel, Mr. Lovel." - </p> - <p> - Lovel took the necessary notice of the German adept, who occupied the - front seat of the carriage, which is usually conferred upon dependants or - inferiors. The ready grin and supple inclination with which his - salutation, though slight, was answered by the foreigner, increased the - internal dislike which Lovel had already conceived towards him; and it was - plain, from the lower of the Antiquary's shaggy eye-brow, that he too - looked with displeasure on this addition to the company. Little more than - distant greeting passed among the members of the party, until, having - rolled on for about three miles beyond the place at which they met, the - carriages at length stopped at the sign of the Four Horse-shoes, a small - hedge inn, where Caxon humbly opened the door, and let down the step of - the hack-chaise, while the inmates of the barouche were, by their more - courtly attendants, assisted to leave their equipage. - </p> - <p> - Here renewed greetings passed: the young ladies shook hands; and Oldbuck, - completely in his element, placed himself as guide and cicerone at the - head of the party, who were now to advance on foot towards the object of - their curiosity. He took care to detain Lovel close beside him as the best - listener of the party, and occasionally glanced a word of explanation and - instruction to Miss Wardour and Mary M'Intyre, who followed next in order. - The Baronet and the clergyman he rather avoided, as he was aware both of - them conceived they understood such matters as well, or better than he - did; and Dousterswivel, besides that he looked on him as a charlatan, was - so nearly connected with his apprehended loss in the stock of the mining - company, that he could not abide the sight of him. These two latter - satellites, therefore, attended upon the orb of Sir Arthur, to whom, - moreover, as the most important person of the society, they were naturally - induced to attach themselves. - </p> - <p> - It frequently happens that the most beautiful points of Scottish scenery - lie hidden in some sequestered dell, and that you may travel through the - country in every direction without being aware of your vicinity to what is - well worth seeing, unless intention or accident carry you to the very - spot. This is particularly the case in the country around Fairport, which - is, generally speaking, open, unenclosed, and bare. But here and there the - progress of rills, or small rivers, has formed dells, glens, or as they - are provincially termed, <i>dens,</i> on whose high and rocky banks trees - and shrubs of all kinds find a shelter, and grow with a luxuriant - profusion, which is the more gratifying, as it forms an unexpected - contrast with the general face of the country. This was eminently the case - with the approach to the ruins of Saint Ruth, which was for some time - merely a sheep-track, along the side of a steep and bare hill. By degrees, - however, as this path descended, and winded round the hillside, trees - began to appear, at first singly, stunted, and blighted, with locks of - wool upon their trunks, and their roots hollowed out into recesses, in - which the sheep love to repose themselves—a sight much more - gratifying to the eye of an admirer of the picturesque than to that of a - planter or forester. By and by the trees formed groups, fringed on the - edges, and filled up in the middle, by thorns and hazel bushes; and at - length these groups closed so much together, that although a broad glade - opened here and there under their boughs, or a small patch of bog or heath - occurred which had refused nourishment to the seed which they sprinkled - round, and consequently remained open and waste, the scene might on the - whole be termed decidedly woodland. The sides of the valley began to - approach each other more closely; the rush of a brook was heard below, and - between the intervals afforded by openings in the natural wood, its waters - were seen hurling clear and rapid under their silvan canopy. - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck now took upon himself the full authority of cicerone, and - anxiously directed the company not to go a foot-breadth off the track - which he pointed out to them, if they wished to enjoy in full perfection - what they came to see. "You are happy in me for a guide, Miss Wardour," - exclaimed the veteran, waving his hand and head in cadence as he repeated - with emphasis, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I know each lane, and every alley green, - Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, - And every bosky bower from side to side. * -</pre> - <p> - * (Milton's <i>Comus.</i>) - </p> - <p> - Ah! deuce take it!—that spray of a bramble has demolished all - Caxon's labours, and nearly canted my wig into the stream—so much - for recitations, <i>hors de propos.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Never mind, my dear sir," said Miss Wardour; "you have your faithful - attendant ready to repair such a disaster when it happens, and when you - appear with it as restored to its original splendour, I will carry on the - quotation: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, - And yet anon repairs his drooping head, - And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore - Flames on the forehead"—* -</pre> - <p> - * (<i>Lycidas.</i>) - </p> - <p> - "O! enough, enough!" answered Oldbuck; "I ought to have known what it was - to give you advantage over me—But here is what will stop your career - of satire, for you are an admirer of nature, I know." In fact, when they - had followed him through a breach in a low, ancient, and ruinous wall, - they came suddenly upon a scene equally unexpected and interesting. - </p> - <p> - They stood pretty high upon the side of the glen, which had suddenly - opened into a sort of amphitheatre to give room for a pure and profound - lake of a few acres extent, and a space of level ground around it. The - banks then arose everywhere steeply, and in some places were varied by - rocks—in others covered with the copse, which run up, feathering - their sides lightly and irregularly, and breaking the uniformity of the - green pasture-ground.—Beneath, the lake discharged itself into the - huddling and tumultuous brook, which had been their companion since they - had entered the glen. At the point at which it issued from "its parent - lake," stood the ruins which they had come to visit. They were not of - great extent; but the singular beauty, as well as the wild and sequestered - character of the spot on which they were situated, gave them an interest - and importance superior to that which attaches itself to architectural - remains of greater consequence, but placed near to ordinary houses, and - possessing less romantic accompaniments. The eastern window of the church - remained entire, with all its ornaments and tracery work; and the sides, - upheld by flying buttresses whose airy support, detached from the wall - against which they were placed, and ornamented with pinnacles and carved - work, gave a variety and lightness to the building. The roof and western - end of the church were completely ruinous; but the latter appeared to have - made one side of a square, of which the ruins of the conventual buildings - formed other two, and the gardens a fourth. The side of these buildings - which overhung the brook, was partly founded on a steep and precipitous - rock; for the place had been occasionally turned to military purposes, and - had been taken with great slaughter during Montrose's wars. The ground - formerly occupied by the garden was still marked by a few orchard trees. - At a greater distance from the buildings were detached oaks and elms and - chestnuts, growing singly, which had attained great size. The rest of the - space between the ruins and the hill was a close-cropt sward, which the - daily pasture of the sheep kept in much finer order than if it had been - subjected to the scythe and broom. The whole scene had a repose, which was - still and affecting without being monotonous. The dark, deep basin, in - which the clear blue lake reposed, reflecting the water lilies which grew - on its surface, and the trees which here and there threw their arms from - the banks, was finely contrasted with the haste and tumult of the brook - which broke away from the outlet, as if escaping from confinement and - hurried down the glen, wheeling around the base of the rock on which the - ruins were situated, and brawling in foam and fury with every shelve and - stone which obstructed its passage. A similar contrast was seen between - the level green meadow, in which the ruins were situated, and the large - timber-trees which were scattered over it, compared with the precipitous - banks which arose at a short distance around, partly fringed with light - and feathery underwood, partly rising in steeps clothed with purple heath, - and partly more abruptly elevated into fronts of grey rock, chequered with - lichen, and with those hardy plants which find root even in the most arid - crevices of the crags. - </p> - <p> - "There was the retreat of learning in the days of darkness, Mr. Lovel!" - said Oldbuck,—around whom the company had now grouped themselves - while they admired the unexpected opening of a prospect so romantic;—"there - reposed the sages who were aweary of the world, and devoted either to that - which was to come, or to the service of the generations who should follow - them in this. I will show you presently the library;—see that - stretch of wall with square-shafted windows—there it existed, - stored, as an old manuscript in my possession assures me, with five - thousand volumes. And here I might well take up the lamentation of the - learned Leland, who, regretting the downfall of the conventual libraries, - exclaims, like Rachel weeping for her children, that if the Papal laws, - decrees, decretals, clementines, and other such drugs of the devil—yea, - if Heytesburg's sophisms, Porphyry's universals, Aristotle's logic, and - Dunse's divinity, with such other lousy legerdemains (begging your pardon, - Miss Wardour) and fruits of the bottomless pit,—had leaped out of - our libraries, for the accommodation of grocers, candlemakers, - soapsellers, and other worldly occupiers, we might have been therewith - contented. But to put our ancient chronicles, our noble histories, our - learned commentaries, and national muniments, to such offices of contempt - and subjection, has greatly degraded our nation, and showed ourselves - dishonoured in the eyes of posterity to the utmost stretch of time—O - negligence most unfriendly to our land!" - </p> - <p> - "And, O John Knox" said the Baronet, "through whose influence, and under - whose auspices, the patriotic task was accomplished!" - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary, somewhat in the situation of a woodcock caught in his own - springe, turned short round and coughed, to excuse a slight blush as he - mustered his answer—"as to the Apostle of the Scottish Reformation"— - </p> - <p> - But Miss Wardour broke in to interrupt a conversation so dangerous. "Pray, - who was the author you quoted, Mr. Oldbuck?" - </p> - <p> - "The learned Leland, Miss Wardour, who lost his senses on witnessing the - destruction of the conventual libraries in England." - </p> - <p> - "Now, I think," replied the young lady, "his misfortune may have saved the - rationality of some modern antiquaries, which would certainly have been - drowned if so vast a lake of learning had not been diminished by - draining." - </p> - <p> - "Well, thank Heaven, there is no danger now—they have hardly left us - a spoonful in which to perform the dire feat." - </p> - <p> - So saying, Mr. Oldbuck led the way down the bank, by a steep but secure - path, which soon placed them on the verdant meadow where the ruins stood. - "There they lived," continued the Antiquary, "with nought to do but to - spend their time in investigating points of remote antiquity, transcribing - manuscripts, and composing new works for the information of posterity." - </p> - <p> - "And," added the Baronet, "in exercising the rites of devotion with a pomp - and ceremonial worthy of the office of the priesthood." - </p> - <p> - "And if Sir Arthur's excellence will permit," said the German, with a low - bow, "the monksh might also make de vary curious experiment in deir - laboraties, both in chemistry and <i>magia naturalis.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "I think," said the clergyman, "they would have enough to do in collecting - the teinds of the parsonage and vicarage of three good parishes." - </p> - <p> - "And all," added Miss Wardour, nodding to the Antiquary, "without - interruption from womankind." - </p> - <p> - "True, my fair foe," said Oldbuck; "this was a paradise where no Eve was - admitted, and we may wonder the rather by what chance the good fathers - came to lose it." - </p> - <p> - With such criticisms on the occupations of those by whom the ruins had - been formerly possessed, they wandered for some time from one moss-grown - shrine to another, under the guidance of Oldbuck, who explained, with much - plausibility, the ground-plan of the edifice, and read and expounded to - the company the various mouldering inscriptions which yet were to be - traced upon the tombs of the dead, or under the vacant niches of the - sainted images. - </p> - <p> - "What is the reason," at length Miss Wardour asked the Antiquary, "why - tradition has preserved to us such meagre accounts of the inmates of these - stately edifices, raised with such expense of labour and taste, and whose - owners were in their times personages of such awful power and importance? - The meanest tower of a freebooting baron or squire who lived by his lance - and broadsword, is consecrated by its appropriate legend, and the shepherd - will tell you with accuracy the names and feats of its inhabitants;—but - ask a countryman concerning these beautiful and extensive remains—these - towers, these arches, and buttresses, and shafted windows, reared at such - cost,—three words fill up his answer—they were made up by the - monks lang syne.'" - </p> - <p> - The question was somewhat puzzling. Sir Arthur looked upward, as if hoping - to be inspired with an answer—Oldbuck shoved back his wig—the - clergyman was of opinion that his parishioners were too deeply impressed - with the true presbyterian doctrine to preserve any records concerning the - papistical cumberers of the land, offshoots as they were of the great - overshadowing tree of iniquity, whose roots are in the bowels of the seven - hills of abomination—Lovel thought the question was best resolved by - considering what are the events which leave the deepest impression on the - minds of the common people—"These," he contended, "were not such as - resemble the gradual progress of a fertilizing river, but the headlong and - precipitous fury of some portentous flood. The eras by which the vulgar - compute time, have always reference to some period of fear and - tribulation, and they date by a tempest, an earthquake, or burst of civil - commotion. When such are the facts most alive, in the memory of the common - people, we cannot wonder," he concluded, "that the ferocious warrior is - remembered, and the peaceful abbots are abandoned to forgetfulness and - oblivion." - </p> - <p> - "If you pleashe, gentlemans and ladies, and ashking pardon of Sir Arthur - and Miss Wardour, and this worthy clergymansh, and my goot friend Mr. - Oldenbuck, who is my countrymansh, and of goot young Mr. Lofel also, I - think it is all owing to de hand of glory." - </p> - <p> - "The hand of what?" exclaimed Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "De hand of glory, my goot Master Oldenbuck, which is a vary great and - terrible secrets—which de monksh used to conceal their treasures - when they were triven from their cloisters by what you call de Reform." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, indeed! tell us about that," said Oldbuck, "for these are secrets - worth knowing." - </p> - <p> - "Why, my goot Master Oldenbuck, you will only laugh at me—But de - hand of glory is vary well known in de countries where your worthy - progenitors did live—and it is hand cut off from a dead man, as has - been hanged for murther, and dried very nice in de shmoke of juniper wood; - and if you put a little of what you call yew wid your juniper, it will not - be any better—that is, it will not be no worse—then you do - take something of de fatsh of de bear, and of de badger, and of de great - eber, as you call de grand boar, and of de little sucking child as has not - been christened (for dat is very essentials), and you do make a candle, - and put it into de hand of glory at de proper hour and minute, with de - proper ceremonish, and he who seeksh for treasuresh shall never find none - at all." - </p> - <p> - "I dare take my corporal oath of that conclusion," said the Antiquary. - "And was it the custom, Mr. Dousterswivel, in Westphalia, to make use of - this elegant candelabrum?" - </p> - <p> - "Alwaysh, Mr. Oldenbuck, when you did not want nobody to talk of nothing - you wash doing about—And the monksh alwaysh did this when they did - hide their church-plates, and their great chalices, and de rings, wid very - preshious shtones and jewels." - </p> - <p> - "But, notwithstanding, you knights of the Rosy Cross have means, no doubt, - of breaking the spell, and discovering what the poor monks have put - themselves to so much trouble to conceal?" - </p> - <p> - "Ah! goot Mr. Oldenbuck," replied the adept, shaking his head - mysteriously, "you was very hard to believe; but if you had seen de great - huge pieces of de plate so massive, Sir Arthur,—so fine fashion, - Miss Wardour—and de silver cross dat we did find (dat was Schroepfer - and my ownself) for de Herr Freygraf, as you call de Baron Von - Blunderhaus, I do believe you would have believed then." - </p> - <p> - "Seeing <i>is</i> believing indeed. But what was your art—what was - your mystery, Mr. Dousterswivel?" - </p> - <p> - "Aha, Mr. Oldenbuck! dat is my little secret, mine goot sir—you sall - forgife me that I not tell that. But I will tell you dere are various ways—yes, - indeed, dere is de dream dat you dream tree times—dat is a vary goot - way." - </p> - <p> - "I am glad of that," said Oldbuck; "I have a friend" (with a side-glance - to Lovel) "who is peculiarly favoured by the visits of Queen Mab." - </p> - <p> - "Den dere is de sympathies, and de antipathies, and de strange properties - and virtues natural of divers herb, and of de little divining-rod." - </p> - <p> - "I would gladly rather see some of these wonders than hear of them," said - Miss Wardour. - </p> - <p> - "Ah, but, my much-honoured young lady, this is not de time or de way to do - de great wonder of finding all de church's plate and treasure; but to - oblige you, and Sir Arthur my patron, and de reverend clergymans, and goot - Mr. Oldenbuck, and young Mr. Lofel, who is a very goot young gentleman - also, I will show you dat it is possible, a vary possible, to discover de - spring, of water, and de little fountain hidden in de ground, without any - mattock, or spade, or dig at all." - </p> - <p> - "Umph!" quoth the Antiquary, "I have heard of that conundrum. That will be - no very productive art in our country;—you should carry that - property to Spain or Portugal, and turn it to good account." - </p> - <p> - "Ah! my goot Master Oldenbuck, dere is de Inquisition and de Auto-da-fe—they - would burn me, who am but a simple philosopher, for one great conjurer." - </p> - <p> - "They would cast away their coals then," said Oldbuck; "but," continued - he, in a whisper to Lovel, "were they to pillory him for one of the most - impudent rascals that ever wagged a tongue, they would square the - punishment more accurately with his deserts. But let us see: I think he is - about to show us some of his legerdemain." - </p> - <p> - In truth, the German was now got to a little copse-thicket at some - distance from the ruins, where he affected busily to search for such a - wand as would suit the purpose of his mystery: and after cutting and - examining, and rejecting several, he at length provided himself with a - small twig of hazel terminating in a forked end, which he pronounced to - possess the virtue proper for the experiment that he was about to exhibit. - Holding the forked ends of the wand, each between a finger and thumb, and - thus keeping the rod upright, he proceeded to pace the ruined aisles and - cloisters, followed by the rest of the company in admiring procession. "I - believe dere was no waters here," said the adept, when he had made the - round of several of the buildings, without perceiving any of those - indications which he pretended to expect—"I believe those Scotch - monksh did find de water too cool for de climate, and alwaysh drank de - goot comfortable, Rhinewine. But, aha!—see there!" Accordingly, the - assistants observed the rod to turn in his fingers, although he pretended - to hold it very tight.—"Dere is water here about, sure enough," and, - turning this way and that way, as the agitation of the divining-rod seemed - to increase or diminish, he at length advanced into the midst of a vacant - and roofless enclosure which had been the kitchen of the priory, when the - rod twisted itself so as to point almost straight downwards. "Here is de - place," said the adept, "and if you do not find de water here, I will give - you all leave to call me an impudent knave." - </p> - <p> - "I shall take that license," whispered the Antiquary to Lovel, "whether - the water is discovered or no." - </p> - <p> - A servant, who had come up with a basket of cold refreshments, was now - despatched to a neighbouring forester's hut for a mattock and pick-axe. - The loose stones and rubbish being removed from the spot indicated by the - German, they soon came to the sides of a regularly-built well; and when a - few feet of rubbish were cleared out by the assistance of the forester and - his sons, the water began to rise rapidly, to the delight of the - philosopher, the astonishment of the ladies, Mr. Blattergowl, and Sir - Arthur, the surprise of Lovel, and the confusion of the incredulous - Antiquary. He did not fail, however, to enter his protest in Lovers ear - against the miracle. "This is a mere trick," he said; "the rascal had made - himself sure of the existence of this old well, by some means or other, - before he played off this mystical piece of jugglery. Mark what he talks - of next. I am much mistaken if this is not intended as a prelude to some - more serious fraud. See how the rascal assumes consequence, and plumes - himself upon the credit of his success, and how poor Sir Arthur takes in - the tide of nonsense which he is delivering to him as principles of occult - science!" - </p> - <p> - "You do see, my goot patron, you do see, my goot ladies, you do see, - worthy Dr. Bladderhowl, and even Mr. Lofel and Mr. Oldenbuck may see, if - they do will to see, how art has no enemy at all but ignorance. Look at - this little slip of hazel nuts—it is fit for nothing at all but to - whip de little child"—("I would choose a cat and nine tails for your - occasions," whispered Oldbuck apart)—"and you put it in the hands of - a philosopher—paf! it makes de grand discovery. But this is nothing, - Sir Arthur,—nothing at all, worthy Dr. Botherhowl—nothing at - all, ladies—nothing at all, young Mr. Lofel and goot Mr. Oldenbuck, - to what art can do. Ah! if dere was any man that had de spirit and de - courage, I would show him better things than de well of water—I - would show him"— - </p> - <p> - "And a little money would be necessary also, would it not?" said the - Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Bah! one trifle, not worth talking about, maight be necessaries," - answered the adept. - </p> - <p> - "I thought as much," rejoined the Antiquary, drily; "and I, in the - meanwhile, without any divining-rod, will show you an excellent venison - pasty, and a bottle of London particular Madeira, and I think that will - match all that Mr. Dousterswivel's art is like to exhibit." - </p> - <p> - The feast was spread <i>fronde super viridi,</i> as Oldbuck expressed - himself, under a huge old tree called the Prior's Oak, and the company, - sitting down around it, did ample honour to the contents of the basket. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - As when a Gryphon through the wilderness, - With winged course, o'er hill and moory dale, - Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth - Had from his wakeful custody purloined - The guarded gold: So eagerly the Fiend— - Paradise Lost. -</pre> - <p> - When their collation was ended, Sir Arthur resumed the account of the - mysteries of the divining-rod, as a subject on which he had formerly - conversed with Dousterswivel. "My friend Mr. Oldbuck will now be prepared, - Mr. Dousterswivel, to listen with more respect to the stories you have - told us of the late discoveries in Germany by the brethren of your - association." - </p> - <p> - "Ah, Sir Arthur, that was not a thing to speak to those gentlemans, - because it is want of credulity—what you call faith—that - spoils the great enterprise." - </p> - <p> - "At least, however, let my daughter read the narrative she has taken down - of the story of Martin Waldeck." - </p> - <p> - "Ah! that was vary true story—but Miss Wardour, she is so sly and so - witty, that she has made it just like one romance—as well as Goethe - or Wieland could have done it, by mine honest wort." - </p> - <p> - "To say the truth, Mr. Dousterswivel," answered Miss Wardour, "the - romantic predominated in the legend so much above the probable, that it - was impossible for a lover of fairyland like me to avoid lending a few - touches to make it perfect in its kind. But here it is, and if you do not - incline to leave this shade till the heat of the day has somewhat - declined, and will have sympathy with my bad composition, perhaps Sir - Arthur or Mr. Oldbuck will read it to us." - </p> - <p> - "Not I," said Sir Arthur; "I was never fond of reading aloud." - </p> - <p> - "Nor I," said Oldbuck, "for I have forgot my spectacles. But here is - Lovel, with sharp eyes and a good voice; for Mr. Blattergowl, I know, - never reads anything, lest he should be suspected of reading his sermons." - </p> - <p> - The task was therefore imposed upon Lovel, who received, with some - trepidation, as Miss Wardour delivered, with a little embarrassment, a - paper containing the lines traced by that fair hand, the possession of - which he coveted as the highest blessing the earth could offer to him. But - there was a necessity of suppressing his emotions; and after glancing over - the manuscript, as if to become acquainted with the character, he - collected himself, and read the company the following tale:— - </p> - <h3> - The Fortunes of Martin Waldeck.</h3 - </h3> - <p> - The solitudes of the Harz forest in Germany, but especially the mountains - called Blocksberg, or rather Brockenberg, are the chosen scenes for tales - of witches, demons, and apparitions. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -[The outline of this story is taken from the German, though the Author - is at present unable to say in which of the various collections of the - popular legends in that language the original is to be found.] -</pre> - <p> - The occupation of the inhabitants, who are either miners or foresters, is - of a kind that renders them peculiarly prone to superstition, and the - natural phenomena which they witness in pursuit of their solitary or - subterraneous profession, are often set down by them to the interference - of goblins or the power of magic. Among the various legends current in - that wild country, there is a favourite one, which supposes the Harz to be - haunted by a sort of tutelar demon, in the shape of a wild man, of huge - stature, his head wreathed with oak leaves, and his middle cinctured with - the same, bearing in his hand a pine torn up by the roots. It is certain - that many persons profess to have seen such a form traversing, with huge - strides, in a line parallel to their own course, the opposite ridge of a - mountain, when divided from it by a narrow glen; and indeed the fact of - the apparition is so generally admitted, that modern scepticism has only - found refuge by ascribing it to optical deception. * - </p> - <p> - *The shadow of the person who sees the phantom, being reflected upon a - cloud of mist, like the image of the magic lantern upon a white sheet, is - supposed to have formed the apparition. - </p> - <p> - In elder times, the intercourse of the demon with the inhabitants was more - familiar, and, according to the traditions of the Harz, he was wont, with - the caprice usually ascribed to these earth-born powers, to interfere with - the affairs of mortals, sometimes for their weal, sometimes for their wo. - But it was observed that even his gifts often turned out, in the long run, - fatal to those on whom they were bestowed, and it was no uncommon thing - for the pastors, in their care of their flocks, to compose long sermons, - the burden whereof was a warning against having any intercourse, direct or - indirect, with the Harz demon. The fortunes of Martin Waldeck have been - often quoted by the aged to their giddy children, when they were heard to - scoff at a danger which appeared visionary. - </p> - <p> - A travelling capuchin had possessed himself of the pulpit of the thatched - church at a little hamlet called <i>Morgenbrodt,</i> lying in the Harz - district, from which he declaimed against the wickedness of the - inhabitants, their communication with fiends, witches, and fairies, and, - in particular, with the woodland goblin of the Harz. The doctrines of - Luther had already begun to spread among the peasantry (for the incident - is placed under the reign of Charles V. ), and they laughed to scorn the - zeal with which the venerable man insisted upon his topic. At length, as - his vehemence increased with opposition, so their opposition rose in - proportion to his vehemence. The inhabitants did not like to hear an - accustomed quiet demon, who had inhabited the Brockenberg for so many - ages, summarily confounded with Baal-peor, Ashtaroth, and Beelzebub - himself, and condemned without reprieve to the bottomless Tophet. The - apprehensions that the spirit might avenge himself on them for listening - to such an illiberal sentence, added to their national interest in his - behalf. A travelling friar, they said, that is here to-day and away - to-morrow, may say what he pleases: but it is we, the ancient and constant - inhabitants of the country, that are left at the mercy of the insulted - demon, and must, of course, pay for all. Under the irritation occasioned - by these reflections, the peasants from injurious language betook - themselves to stones, and having pebbled the priest pretty handsomely, - they drove him out of the parish to preach against demons elsewhere. - </p> - <p> - Three young men, who had been present and assisting on this occasion were - upon their return to the hut where they carried on the laborious and mean - occupation of preparing charcoal for the smelting furnaces. On the way, - their conversation naturally turned upon the demon of the Harz and the - doctrine of the capuchin. Max and George Waldeck, the two elder brothers, - although they allowed the language of the capuchin to have been indiscreet - and worthy of censure, as presuming to determine upon the precise - character and abode of the spirit, yet contended it was dangerous, in the - highest degree, to accept of his gifts, or hold any communication with - him, He was powerful, they allowed, but wayward and capricious, and those - who had intercourse with him seldom came to a good end. Did he not give - the brave knight, Ecbert of Rabenwald, that famous black steed, by means - of which he vanquished all the champions at the great tournament at - Bremen? and did not the same steed afterwards precipitate itself with its - rider into an abyss so steep and fearful, that neither horse nor man were - ever seen more? Had he not given to Dame Gertrude Trodden a curious spell - for making butter come? and was she not burnt for a witch by the grand - criminal judge of the Electorate, because she availed herself of his gift? - But these, and many other instances which they quoted, of mischance and - ill-luck ultimately attending on the apparent benefits conferred by the - Harz spirit, failed to make any impression upon Martin Waldeck, the - youngest of the brothers. - </p> - <p> - Martin was youthful, rash, and impetuous; excelling in all the exercises - which distinguish a mountaineer, and brave and undaunted from his familiar - intercourse with the dangers that attend them. He laughed at the timidity - of his brothers. "Tell me not of such folly," he said; "the demon is a - good demon—he lives among us as if he were a peasant like ourselves—haunts - the lonely crags and recesses of the mountains like a huntsman or goatherd—and - he who loves the Harz forest and its wild scenes cannot be indifferent to - the fate of the hardy children of the soil. But, if the demon were as - malicious as you would make him, how should he derive power over mortals, - who barely avail themselves of his gifts, without binding themselves to - submit to his pleasure? When you carry your charcoal to the furnace, is - not the money as good that is paid you by blaspheming Blaize, the old - reprobate overseer, as if you got it from the pastor himself? It is not - the goblins gifts which can endanger you, then, but it is the use you - shall make of them that you must account for. And were the demon to appear - to me at this moment, and indicate to me a gold or silver mine, I would - begin to dig away even before his back were turned,—and I would - consider myself as under protection of a much Greater than he, while I - made a good use of the wealth he pointed out to me." - </p> - <p> - To this the elder brother replied, that wealth ill won was seldom well - spent; while Martin presumptuously declared, that the possession of all - the treasures of the Harz would not make the slightest alteration on his - habits, morals, or character. - </p> - <p> - His brother entreated Martin to talk less wildly upon the subject, and - with some difficulty contrived to withdraw his attention, by calling it to - the consideration of the approaching boar-chase. This talk brought them to - their hut, a wretched wigwam, situated upon one side of a wild, narrow, - and romantic dell, in the recesses of the Brockenberg. They released their - sister from attending upon the operation of charring the wood, which - requires constant attention, and divided among themselves the duty of - watching it by night, according to their custom, one always waking, while - his brothers slept. - </p> - <p> - Max Waldeck, the eldest, watched during the first two hours of the night, - and was considerably alarmed by observing, upon the opposite bank of the - glen, or valley, a huge fire surrounded by some figures that appeared to - wheel around it with antic gestures. Max at first bethought him of calling - up his brothers; but recollecting the daring character of the youngest, - and finding it impossible to wake the elder without also disturbing Martin—conceiving - also what he saw to be an illusion of the demon, sent perhaps in - consequence of the venturous expressions used by Martin on the preceding - evening, he thought it best to betake himself to the safeguard of such - prayers as he could murmur over, and to watch in great terror and - annoyance this strange and alarming apparition. After blazing for some - time, the fire faded gradually away into darkness, and the rest of Max's - watch was only disturbed by the remembrance of its terrors. - </p> - <p> - George now occupied the place of Max, who had retired to rest. The - phenomenon of a huge blazing fire, upon the opposite bank of the glen, - again presented itself to the eye of the watchman. It was surrounded as - before by figures, which, distinguished by their opaque forms, being - between the spectator and the red glaring light, moved and fluctuated - around it as if engaged in some mystical ceremony. George, though equally - cautious, was of a bolder character than his elder brother. He resolved to - examine more nearly the object of his wonder; and, accordingly after - crossing the rivulet which divided the glen, he climbed up the opposite - bank, and approached within an arrow's flight of the fire, which blazed - apparently with the same fury as when he first witnessed it. - </p> - <p> - The appearance, of the assistants who surrounded it resembled those - phantoms which are seen in a troubled dream, and at once confirmed the - idea he had entertained from the first, that they did not belong to the - human world. Amongst these strange unearthly forms, George Waldeck - distinguished that of a giant overgrown with hair, holding an uprooted fir - in his hand, with which, from time to time, he seemed to stir the blazing - fire, and having no other clothing than a wreath of oak leaves around his - forehead and loins. George's heart sunk within him at recognising the - well-known apparition of the Harz demon, as he had been often described to - him by the ancient shepherds and huntsmen who had seen his form traversing - the mountains. He turned, and was about to fly; but upon second thoughts, - blaming his own cowardice, he recited mentally the verse of the Psalmist, - "All good angels, praise the Lord!" which is in that country supposed - powerful as an exorcism, and turned himself once more towards the place - where he had seen the fire. But it was no longer visible. - </p> - <p> - The pale moon alone enlightened the side of the valley; and when George, - with trembling steps, a moist brow, and hair bristling upright under his - collier's cap, came to the spot on which the fire had been so lately - visible, marked as it was by a scathed oak-tree, there appeared not on the - heath the slightest vestiges of what he had seen. The moss and wild - flowers were unscorched, and the branches of the oak-tree, which had so - lately appeared enveloped in wreaths of flame and smoke, were moist with - the dews of midnight. - </p> - <p> - George returned to his hut with trembling steps, and, arguing like his - elder brother, resolved to say nothing of what he had seen, lest he should - awake in Martin that daring curiosity which he almost deemed to be allied - with impiety. - </p> - <p> - It was now Martin's turn to watch. The household cock had given his first - summons, and the night was well-nigh spent. Upon examining the state of - the furnace in which the wood was deposited in order to its being <i>coked</i> - or <i>charred,</i> he was surprised to find that the fire had not been - sufficiently maintained; for in his excursion and its consequences, George - had forgot the principal object of his watch. Martin's first thought was - to call up the slumberers; but observing that both his brothers slept - unwontedly deep and heavily, he respected their repose, and set himself to - supply the furnace with fuel without requiring their aid. What he heaped - upon it was apparently damp and unfit for the purpose, for the fire seemed - rather to decay than revive. Martin next went to collect some boughs from - a stack which had been carefully cut and dried for this purpose; but, when - he returned, he found the fire totally extinguished. This was a serious - evil, and threatened them with loss of their trade for more than one day. - The vexed and mortified watchman set about to strike a light in order to - rekindle the fire but the tinder was moist, and his labour proved in this - respect also ineffectual. He was now about to call up his brothers, for - circumstances seemed to be pressing, when flashes of light glimmered not - only through the window, but through every crevice of the rudely built - hut, and summoned him to behold the same apparition which had before - alarmed the successive watches of his brethren. His first idea was, that - the Muhllerhaussers, their rivals in trade, and with whom they had had - many quarrels, might have encroached upon their bounds for the purpose of - pirating their wood; and he resolved to awake his brothers, and be - revenged on them for their audacity. But a short reflection and - observation on the gestures and manner of those who seemed to "work in the - fire," induced him to dismiss this belief, and although rather sceptical - in such matters, to conclude that what he saw was a supernatural - phenomenon. "But be they men or fiends," said the undaunted forester, - "that busy themselves yonder with such fantastical rites and gestures, I - will go and demand a light to rekindle our furnace." He, relinquished at - the same time the idea of awaking his brethren. There was a belief that - such adventures as he was about to undertake were accessible only to one - person at a time; he feared also that his brothers, in their scrupulous - timidity, might interfere to prevent his pursuing the investigation he had - resolved to commence; and, therefore, snatching his boar-spear from the - wall, the undaunted Martin Waldeck set forth on the adventure alone. - </p> - <p> - With the same success as his brother George, but with courage far - superior, Martin crossed the brook, ascended the hill, and approached so - near the ghostly assembly, that he could recognise, in the presiding - figure, the attributes of the Harz demon. A cold shuddering assailed him - for the first time in his life; but the recollection that he had at a - distance dared and even courted the intercourse which was now about to - take place, confirmed his staggering courage; and pride supplying what he - wanted in resolution, he advanced with tolerable firmness towards the - fire, the figures which surrounded it appearing still more wild, - fantastical, and supernatural, the more near he approached to the - assembly. He was received with a loud shout of discordant and unnatural - laughter, which, to his stunned ears, seemed more alarming than a - combination of the most dismal and melancholy sounds that could be - imagined. "Who art thou?" said the giant, compressing his savage and - exaggerated features into a sort of forced gravity, while they were - occasionally agitated by the convulsion of the laughter which he seemed to - suppress. - </p> - <p> - "Martin Waldeck, the forester," answered the hardy youth;—"and who - are you?" - </p> - <p> - "The King of the Waste and of the Mine," answered the spectre;—"and - why hast thou dared to encroach on my mysteries?" - </p> - <p> - "I came in search of light to rekindle my fire," answered Martin, hardily, - and then resolutely asked in his turn, "What mysteries are those that you - celebrate here?" - </p> - <p> - "We celebrate," answered the complaisant demon, "the wedding of Hermes - with the Black Dragon—But take thy fire that thou camest to seek, - and begone! no mortal may look upon us and live." - </p> - <p> - The peasant struck his spear-point into a large piece of blazing wood, - which he heaved up with some difficulty, and then turned round to regain - his hut, the shouts of laughter being renewed behind him with treble - violence, and ringing far down the narrow valley. When Martin returned to - the hut, his first care, however much astonished with what he had seen, - was to dispose the kindled coal among the fuel so as might best light the - fire of his furnace; but after many efforts, and all exertions of bellows - and fire-prong, the coal he had brought from the demon's fire became - totally extinct without kindling any of the others. He turned about, and - observed the fire still blazing on the hill, although those who had been - busied around it had disappeared. As he conceived the spectre had been - jesting with him, he gave way to the natural hardihood of his temper, and, - determining to see the adventure to an end, resumed the road to the fire, - from which, unopposed by the demon, he brought off in the same manner a - blazing piece of charcoal, but still without being able to succeed in - lighting his fire. Impunity having increased his rashness, he resolved - upon a third experiment, and was as successful as before in reaching the - fire; but when he had again appropriated a piece of burning coal, and had - turned to depart, he heard the harsh and supernatural voice which had - before accosted him, pronounce these words, "Dare not return hither a - fourth time!" - </p> - <p> - The attempt to kindle the fire with this last coal having proved as - ineffectual as on the former occasions, Martin relinquished the hopeless - attempt, and flung himself on his bed of leaves, resolving to delay till - the next morning the communication of his supernatural adventure to his - brothers. He was awakened from a heavy sleep into which he had sunk, from - fatigue of body and agitation of mind, by loud exclamations of surprise - and joy. His brothers, astonished at finding the fire extinguished when - they awoke, had proceeded to arrange the fuel in order to renew it, when - they found in the ashes three huge metallic masses, which their skill (for - most of the peasants in the Harz are practical mineralogists) immediately - ascertained to be pure gold. - </p> - <p> - It was some damp upon their joyful congratulations when they learned from - Martin the mode in which he had obtained this treasure, to which their own - experience of the nocturnal vision induced them to give full credit. But - they were unable to resist the temptation of sharing in their brother's - wealth. Taking now upon him as head of the house, Martin Waldeck bought - lands and forests, built a castle, obtained a patent of nobility, and, - greatly to the indignation of the ancient aristocracy of the - neighbourhood, was invested with all the privileges of a man of family. - His courage in public war, as well as in private feuds, together with the - number of retainers whom he kept in pay, sustained him for some time - against the odium which was excited by his sudden elevation, and the - arrogance of his pretensions. - </p> - <p> - And now it was seen in the instance of Martin Waldeck, as it has been in - that of many others, how little mortals can foresee the effect of sudden - prosperity on their own disposition. The evil propensities in his nature, - which poverty had checked and repressed, ripened and bore their unhallowed - fruit under the influence of temptation and the means of indulgence. As - Deep calls unto Deep, one bad passion awakened another the fiend of - avarice invoked that of pride, and pride was to be supported by cruelty - and oppression. Waldeck's character, always bold and daring but rendered - harsh and assuming by prosperity, soon made him odious, not to the nobles - only, but likewise to the lower ranks, who saw, with double dislike, the - oppressive rights of the feudal nobility of the empire so remorselessly - exercised by one who had risen from the very dregs of the people. His - adventure, although carefully concealed, began likewise to be whispered - abroad, and the clergy already stigmatized as a wizard and accomplice of - fiends, the wretch, who, having acquired so huge a treasure in so strange - a manner, had not sought to sanctify it by dedicating a considerable - portion to the use of the church. Surrounded by enemies, public and - private, tormented by a thousand feuds, and threatened by the church with - excommunication, Martin Waldeck, or, as we must now call him, the Baron - von Waldeck, often regretted bitterly the labours and sports of his - unenvied poverty. But his courage failed him not under all these - difficulties, and seemed rather to augment in proportion to the danger - which darkened around him, until an accident precipitated his fall. - </p> - <p> - A proclamation by the reigning Duke of Brunswick had invited to a solemn - tournament all German nobles of free and honourable descent; and Martin - Waldeck, splendidly armed, accompanied by his two brothers, and a - gallantly-equipped retinue, had the arrogance to appear among the chivalry - of the province, and demand permission to enter the lists. This was - considered as filling up the measure of his presumption. A thousand voices - exclaimed, "We will have no cinder-sifter mingle in our games of - chivalry." Irritated to frenzy, Martin drew his sword and hewed down the - herald, who, in compliance with the general outcry, opposed his entry into - the lists. An hundred swords were unsheathed to avenge what was in those - days regarded as a crime only inferior to sacrilege or regicide. Waldeck, - after defending himself like a lion, was seized, tried on the spot by the - judges of the lists, and condemned, as the appropriate punishment for - breaking the peace of his sovereign, and violating the sacred person of a - herald-at-arms, to have his right hand struck from his body, to be - ignominiously deprived of the honour of nobility, of which he was - unworthy, and to be expelled from the city. When he had been stripped of - his arms, and sustained the mutilation imposed by this severe sentence, - the unhappy victim of ambition was abandoned to the rabble, who followed - him with threats and outcries levelled alternately against the necromancer - and oppressor, which at length ended in violence. His brothers (for his - retinue were fled and dispersed) at length succeeded in rescuing him from - the hands of the populace, when, satiated with cruelty, they had left him - half dead through loss of blood, and through the outrages he had - sustained. They were not permitted, such was the ingenious cruelty of - their enemies, to make use of any other means of removing him, excepting - such a collier's cart as they had themselves formerly used, in which they - deposited their brother on a truss of straw, scarcely expecting to reach - any place of shelter ere death should release him from his misery. - </p> - <p> - When the Waldecks, journeying in this miserable manner, had approached the - verge of their native country, in a hollow way, between two mountains, - they perceived a figure advancing towards them, which at first sight - seemed to be an aged man. But as he approached, his limbs and stature - increased, the cloak fell from his shoulders, his pilgrim's staff was - changed into an uprooted pine-tree, and the gigantic figure of the Harz - demon passed before them in his terrors. When he came opposite to the cart - which contained the miserable Waldeck, his huge features dilated into a - grin of unutterable contempt and malignity, as he asked the sufferer, "How - like you the fire my coals have kindled?" The power of motion, which - terror suspended in his two brothers, seemed to be restored to Martin by - the energy of his courage. He raised himself on the cart, bent his brows, - and, clenching his fist, shook it at the spectre with a ghastly look of - hate and defiance. The goblin vanished with his usual tremendous and - explosive laugh, and left Waldeck exhausted with this effort of expiring - nature. - </p> - <p> - The terrified brethren turned their vehicle toward the towers of a - convent, which arose in a wood of pine-trees beside the road. They were - charitably received by a bare-footed and long-bearded capuchin, and Martin - survived only to complete the first confession he had made since the day - of his sudden prosperity, and to receive absolution from the very priest - whom, precisely on that day three years, he had assisted to pelt out of - the hamlet of Morgenbrodt. The three years of precarious prosperity were - supposed to have a mysterious correspondence with the number of his visits - to the spectral fire upon the bill. - </p> - <p> - The body of Martin Waldeck was interred in the convent where he expired, - in which his brothers, having assumed the habit of the order, lived and - died in the performance of acts of charity and devotion. His lands, to - which no one asserted any claim, lay waste until they were reassumed by - the emperor as a lapsed fief, and the ruins of the castle, which Waldeck - had called by his own name, are still shunned by the miner and forester as - haunted by evil spirits. Thus were the miseries attendant upon wealth, - hastily attained and ill employed, exemplified in the fortunes of Martin - Waldeck. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER NINETEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here has been such a stormy encounter - Betwixt my cousin Captain, and this soldier, - About I know not what!—nothing, indeed; - Competitions, degrees, and comparatives - Of soldiership!— - A Faire Qurrell. -</pre> - <p> - The attentive audience gave the fair transcriber of the foregoing legend - the thanks which politeness required. Oldbuck alone curled up his nose, - and observed, that Miss Wardour's skill was something like that of the - alchemists, for she had contrived to extract a sound and valuable moral - out of a very trumpery and ridiculous legend. "It is the fashion, as I am - given to understand, to admire those extravagant fictions—for me, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —I bear an English heart, - Unused at ghosts and rattling bones to start." -</pre> - <p> - "Under your favour, my goot Mr. Oldenbuck," said the German, "Miss Wardour - has turned de story, as she does every thing as she touches, very pretty - indeed; but all the history of de Harz goblin, and how he walks among de - desolate mountains wid a great fir-tree for his walking cane, and wid de - great green bush around his head and his waist—that is as true as I - am an honest man." - </p> - <p> - "There is no disputing any proposition so well guaranteed," answered the - Antiquary, drily. But at this moment the approach of a stranger cut short - the conversation. - </p> - <p> - The new comer was a handsome young man, about five-and-twenty, in a - military undress, and bearing, in his look and manner, a good deal of the - martial profession—nay, perhaps a little more than is quite - consistent with the ease of a man of perfect good-breeding, in whom no - professional habit ought to predominate. He was at once greeted by the - greater part of the company. "My dear Hector!" said Miss M'Intyre, as she - rose to take his hand— - </p> - <p> - "Hector, son of Priam, whence comest thou?" said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "From Fife, my liege," answered the young soldier, and continued, when he - had politely saluted the rest of the company, and particularly Sir Arthur - and his daughter—"I learned from one of the servants, as I rode - towards Monkbarns to pay my respects to you, that I should find the - present company in this place, and I willingly embrace the opportunity to - pay my respects to so many of my friends at once." - </p> - <p> - "And to a new one also, my trusty Trojan," said Oldbuck. "Mr. Lovel, this - is my nephew, Captain M'Intyre—Hector, I recommend Mr. Lovel to your - acquaintance." - </p> - <p> - The young soldier fixed his keen eye upon Lovel, and paid his compliment - with more reserve than cordiality and as our acquaintance thought his - coldness almost supercilious, he was equally frigid and haughty in making - the necessary return to it; and thus a prejudice seemed to arise between - them at the very commencement of their acquaintance. - </p> - <p> - The observations which Lovel made during the remainder of this pleasure - party did not tend to reconcile him with this addition to their society. - Captain M'Intyre, with the gallantry to be expected from his age and - profession, attached himself to the service of Miss Wardour, and offered - her, on every possible opportunity, those marks of attention which Lovel - would have given the world to have rendered, and was only deterred from - offering by the fear of her displeasure. With forlorn dejection at one - moment, and with irritated susceptibility at another, he saw this handsome - young soldier assume and exercise all the privileges of a <i>cavaliere - servente.</i> He handed Miss Wardour's gloves, he assisted her in putting - on her shawl, he attached himself to her in the walks, had a hand ready to - remove every impediment in her path, and an arm to support her where it - was rugged or difficult; his conversation was addressed chiefly to her, - and, where circumstances permitted, it was exclusively so. All this, Lovel - well knew, might be only that sort of egotistical gallantry which induces - some young men of the present day to give themselves the air of engrossing - the attention of the prettiest women in company, as if the others were - unworthy of their notice. But he thought he observed in the conduct of - Captain M'Intyre something of marked and peculiar tenderness, which was - calculated to alarm the jealousy of a lover. Miss Wardour also received - his attentions; and although his candour allowed they were of a kind which - could not be repelled without some strain of affectation, yet it galled - him to the heart to witness that she did so. - </p> - <p> - The heart-burning which these reflections occasioned proved very - indifferent seasoning to the dry antiquarian discussions with which - Oldbuck, who continued to demand his particular attention, was - unremittingly persecuting him; and he underwent, with fits of impatience - that amounted almost to loathing, a course of lectures upon monastic - architecture, in all its styles, from the massive Saxon to the florid - Gothic, and from that to the mixed and composite architecture of James the - First's time, when, according to Oldbuck, all orders were confounded, and - columns of various descriptions arose side by side, or were piled above - each other, as if symmetry had been forgotten, and the elemental - principles of art resolved into their primitive confusion. "What can be - more cutting to the heart than the sight of evils," said Oldbuck, in - rapturous enthusiasm, "which we are compelled to behold, while we do not - possess the power of remedying them?" Lovel answered by an involulatary - groan. "I see, my dear young friend, and most congenial spirit, that you - feel these enormities almost as much as I do. Have you ever approached - them, or met them, without longing to tear, to deface, what is so - dishonourable?" - </p> - <p> - "Dishonourable!" echoed Lovel—"in what respect dishonourable?" - </p> - <p> - "I mean, disgraceful to the arts." - </p> - <p> - "Where? how?" - </p> - <p> - "Upon the portico, for example, of the schools of Oxford, where, at - immense expense, the barbarous, fantastic, and ignorant architect has - chosen to represent the whole five orders of architecture on the front of - one building." - </p> - <p> - By such attacks as these, Oldbuck, unconscious of the torture he was - giving, compelled Lovel to give him a share of his attention,—as a - skilful angler, by means of his line, maintains an influence over the most - frantic movements of his agonized prey. - </p> - <p> - They were now on their return to the spot where they had left the - carriages; and it is inconceivable how often, in the course of that short - walk, Lovel, exhausted by the unceasing prosing of his worthy companion, - mentally bestowed on the devil, or any one else that would have rid him of - hearing more of them, all the orders and disorders of architecture which - had been invented or combined from the building of Solomon's temple - downwards. A slight incident occurred, however, which sprinkled a little - patience on the heat of his distemperature. - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour, and her self-elected knight companion, rather preceded the - others in the narrow path, when the young lady apparently became desirous - to unite herself with the rest of the party, and, to break off her <i>tete-a-tete</i> - with the young officer, fairly made a pause until Mr. Oldbuck came up. "I - wished to ask you a question, Mr. Oldbuck, concerning the date of these - interesting ruins." - </p> - <p> - It would be doing injustice to Miss Wardour's <i>savoir faire,</i> to - suppose she was not aware that such a question would lead to an answer of - no limited length. The Antiquary, starting like a war-horse at the trumpet - sound, plunged at once into the various arguments for and against the date - of 1273, which had been assigned to the priory of St. Ruth by a late - publication on Scottish architectural antiquities. He raked up the names - of all the priors who had ruled the institution, of the nobles who had - bestowed lands upon it, and of the monarchs who had slept their last sleep - among its roofless courts. As a train which takes fire is sure to light - another, if there be such in the vicinity, the Baronet, catching at the - name of one of his ancestors which occurred in Oldbuck's disquisition, - entered upon an account of his wars, his conquests, and his trophies; and - worthy Dr. Blattergowl was induced, from the mention of a grant of lands, - <i>cum decimis inclusis tam vicariis quam garbalibus, et nunquan antea - separatis,</i> to enter into a long explanation concerning the - interpretation given by the Teind Court in the consideration of such a - clause, which had occurred in a process for localling his last - augmentation of stipend. The orators, like three racers, each pressed - forward to the goal, without much regarding how each crossed and jostled - his competitors. Mr. Oldbuck harangued, the Baronet declaimed, Mr. - Blattergowl prosed and laid down the law, while the Latin forms of feudal - grants were mingled with the jargon of blazonry, and the yet more - barbarous phraseology of the Teind Court of Scotland. "He was," exclaimed - Oldbuck, speaking of the Prior Adhemar, "indeed an exemplary prelate; and, - from his strictness of morals, rigid execution of penance, joined to the - charitable disposition of his mind, and the infirmities endured by his - great age and ascetic habits"— - </p> - <p> - Here he chanced to cough, and Sir Arthur burst in, or rather continued—"was - called popularly Hell-in-Harness; he carried a shield, gules with a sable - fess, which we have since disused, and was slain at the battle of Vernoil, - in France, after killing six of the English with his own"— - </p> - <p> - "Decreet of certification," proceeded the clergyman, in that prolonged, - steady, prosing tone, which, however overpowered at first by the vehemence - of competition, promised, in the long run, to obtain the ascendancy in - this strife of narrators;—"Decreet of certification having gone out, - and parties being held as confessed, the proof seemed to be held as - concluded, when their lawyer moved to have it opened up, on the allegation - that they had witnesses to bring forward, that they had been in the habit - of carrying the ewes to lamb on the teind-free land; which was a mere - evasion, for"— - </p> - <p> - But here the Baronet and Mr. Oldbuck having recovered their wind, and - continued their respective harangues, the three <i>strands</i> of the - conversation, to speak the language of a rope-work, were again twined - together into one undistinguishable string of confusion. - </p> - <p> - Yet, howsoever uninteresting this piebald jargon might seem, it was - obviously Miss Wardour's purpose to give it her attention, in preference - to yielding Captain M'Intyre an opportunity of renewing their private - conversation. So that, after waiting for a little time with displeasure, - ill concealed by his haughty features, he left her to enjoy her bad taste, - and taking his sister by the arm, detained her a little behind the rest of - the party. - </p> - <p> - "So I find, Mary, that your neighbour has neither become more lively nor - less learned during my absence." - </p> - <p> - "We lacked your patience and wisdom to instruct us, Hector." - </p> - <p> - "Thank you, my dear sister. But you have got a wiser, if not so lively an - addition to your society, than your unworthy brother—Pray, who is - this Mr. Lovel, whom our old uncle has at once placed so high in his good - graces?—he does not use to be so accessible to strangers." - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Lovel, Hector, is a very gentleman-like young man." - </p> - <p> - "Ay,—that is to say, he bows when he comes into a room, and wears a - coat that is whole at the elbows." - </p> - <p> - "No, brother; it says a great deal more. It says that his manners and - discourse express the feelings and education of the higher class." - </p> - <p> - "But I desire to know what is his birth and his rank in society, and what - is his title to be in the circle in which I find him domesticated?" - </p> - <p> - "If you mean, how he comes to visit at Monkbarns, you must ask my uncle, - who will probably reply, that he invites to his own house such company as - he pleases; and if you mean to ask Sir Arthur, you must know that Mr. - Lovel rendered Miss Wardour and him a service of the most important kind." - </p> - <p> - "What! that romantic story is true, then?—And pray, does the - valorous knight aspire, as is befitting on such occasions, to the hand of - the young lady whom he redeemed from peril? It is quite in the rule of - romance, I am aware; and I did think that she was uncommonly dry to me as - we walked together, and seemed from time to time as if she watched whether - she was not giving offence to her gallant cavalier." - </p> - <p> - "Dear Hector," said his sister, "if you really continue to nourish any - affection for Miss Wardour"— - </p> - <p> - "If, Mary?—what an <i>if</i> was there!" - </p> - <p> - "—I own I consider your perseverance as hopeless." - </p> - <p> - "And why hopeless, my sage sister?" asked Captain M'Intyre: "Miss Wardour, - in the state of her father's affairs, cannot pretend to much fortune;—and, - as to family, I trust that of Mlntyre is not inferior." - </p> - <p> - "But, Hector," continued his sister, "Sir Arthur always considers us as - members of the Monkbarns family." - </p> - <p> - "Sir Arthur may consider what he pleases," answered the Highlander - scornfully; "but any one with common sense will consider that the wife - takes rank from the husband, and that my father's pedigree of fifteen - unblemished descents must have ennobled my mother, if her veins had been - filled with printer's ink." - </p> - <p> - "For God's sake, Hector," replied his anxious sister, "take care of - yourself! a single expression of that kind, repeated to my uncle by an - indiscreet or interested eavesdropper, would lose you his favour for ever, - and destroy all chance of your succeeding to his estate." - </p> - <p> - "Be it so," answered the heedless young man; "I am one of a profession - which the world has never been able to do without, and will far less - endure to want for half a century to come; and my good old uncle may tack - his good estate and his plebeian name to your apron-string if he pleases, - Mary, and you may wed this new favourite of his if you please, and you may - both of you live quiet, peaceable, well-regulated lives, if it pleases - Heaven. My part is taken—I'll fawn on no man for an inheritance - which should be mine by birth." - </p> - <p> - Miss M'Intyre laid her hand on her brother's arm, and entreated him to - suppress his vehemence. "Who," she said, "injures or seeks to injure you, - but your own hasty temper?—what dangers are you defying, but those - you have yourself conjured up?—Our uncle has hitherto been all that - is kind and paternal in his conduct to us, and why should you suppose he - will in future be otherwise than what he has ever been, since we were left - as orphans to his care?" - </p> - <p> - "He is an excellent old gentleman, I must own," replied M'Intyre, "and I - am enraged at myself when I chance to offend him; but then his eternal - harangues upon topics not worth the spark of a flint—his - investigations about invalided pots and pans and tobacco-stoppers past - service—all these things put me out of patience. I have something of - Hotspur in me, sister, I must confess." - </p> - <p> - "Too much, too much, my dear brother! Into how many risks, and, forgive me - for saying, some of them little creditable, has this absolute and violent - temper led you! Do not let such clouds darken the time you are now to pass - in our neighbourhood, but let our old benefactor see his kinsman as he is—generous, - kind, and lively, without being rude, headstrong, and impetuous." - </p> - <p> - "Well," answered Captain M'Intyre, "I am schooled—good-manners be my - speed! I'll do the civil thing by your new friend—I'll have some - talk with this Mr. Lovel." - </p> - <p> - With this determination, in which he was for the time perfectly sincere, - he joined the party who were walking before them. The treble disquisition - was by this time ended; and Sir Arthur was speaking on the subject of - foreign news, and the political and military situation of the country, - themes upon which every man thinks himself qualified to give an opinion. - An action of the preceding year having come upon the <i>tapis,</i> Lovel, - accidentally mingling in the conversation, made some assertion concerning - it, of the accuracy of which Captain M'Intyre seemed not to be convinced, - although his doubts were politely expressed. - </p> - <p> - "You must confess yourself in the wrong here, Hector," said his uncle, - "although I know no man less willing to give up an argument; but you were - in England at the time, and Mr. Lovel was probably concerned in the - affair." - </p> - <p> - "I am speaking to a military man, then?" said M'Intyre; "may I inquire to - what regiment Mr. Lovel belongs?"—Mr. Lovel gave him the number of - the regiment. "It happens strangely that we should never have met before, - Mr. Lovel. I know your regiment very well, and have served along with them - at different times." - </p> - <p> - A blush crossed Lovel's countenance. "I have not lately been with my - regiment," he replied; "I served the last campaign upon the staff of - General Sir——." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed! that is more wonderful than the other circumstance!—for - although I did not serve with General Sir——, yet I had an - opportunity of knowing the names of the officers who held situations in - his family, and I cannot recollect that of Lovel." - </p> - <p> - At this observation Lovel again blushed so deeply as to attract the - attention of the whole company, while, a scornful laugh seemed to indicate - Captain M'Intyre's triumph. "There is something strange in this," said - Oldbuck to himself; "but I will not readily give up my phoenix of - post-chaise companions—all his actions, language, and bearing, are - those of a gentleman." - </p> - <p> - Lovel in the meanwhile had taken out his pocket-book, and selecting a - letter, from which he took off the envelope, he handed it to Mlntyre. "You - know the General's hand, in all probability—I own I ought not to - show these exaggerated expressions of his regard and esteem for me." The - letter contained a very handsome compliment from the officer in question - for some military service lately performed. Captain M'Intyre, as he - glanced his eye over it, could not deny that it was written in the - General's hand, but drily observed, as he returned it, that the address - was wanting. "The address, Captain M'Intyre," answered Lovel, in the same - tone, "shall be at your service whenever you choose to inquire after it!" - </p> - <p> - "I certainly shall not fail to do so," rejoined the soldier. - </p> - <p> - "Come, come," exclaimed Oldbuck, "what is the meaning of all this? Have we - got Hiren here?—We'll have no swaggering youngsters. Are you come - from the wars abroad, to stir up domestic strife in our peaceful land? Are - you like bull-dog puppies, forsooth, that when the bull, poor fellow, is - removed from the ring, fall to brawl among themselves, worry each other, - and bite honest folk's shins that are standing by?" - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur trusted, he said, the young gentlemen would not so far forget - themselves as to grow warm upon such a trifling subject as the back of a - letter. - </p> - <p> - Both the disputants disclaimed any such intention, and, with high colour - and flashing eyes, protested they were never so cool in their lives. But - an obvious damp was cast over the party;—they talked in future too - much by the rule to be sociable, and Lovel, conceiving himself the object - of cold and suspicious looks from the rest of the company, and sensible - that his indirect replies had given them permission to entertain strange - opinions respecting him, made a gallant determination to sacrifice the - pleasure he had proposed in spending the day at Knockwinnock. - </p> - <p> - He affected, therefore, to complain of a violent headache, occasioned by - the heat of the day, to which he had not been exposed since his illness, - and made a formal apology to Sir Arthur, who, listening more to recent - suspicion than to the gratitude due for former services, did not press him - to keep his engagement more than good-breeding exactly demanded. - </p> - <p> - When Lovel took leave of the ladies, Miss Wardour's manner seemed more - anxious than he had hitherto remarked it. She indicated by a glance of her - eye towards Captain M'Intyre, perceptible only by Lovel, the subject of - her alarm, and hoped, in a voice greatly under her usual tone, it was not - a less pleasant engagement which deprived them of the pleasure of Mr. - Lovel's company. "No engagement had intervened," he assured her; "it was - only the return of a complaint by which he had been for some time - occasionally attacked." - </p> - <p> - "The best remedy in such a case is prudence, and I—every friend of - Mr. Lovel's will expect him to employ it." - </p> - <p> - Lovel bowed low and coloured deeply, and Miss Wardour, as if she felt that - she had said too much, turned and got into the carriage. Lovel had next to - part with Oldbuck, who, during this interval, had, with Caxon's - assistance, been arranging his disordered periwig, and brushing his coat, - which exhibited some marks of the rude path they had traversed. "What, - man!" said Oldbuck, "you are not going to leave us on account of that - foolish Hector's indiscreet curiosity and vehemence? Why, he is a - thoughtless boy—a spoiled child from the time he was in the nurse's - arms—he threw his coral and bells at my head for refusing him a bit - of sugar; and you have too much sense to mind such a shrewish boy: <i>aequam - servare mentem</i> is the motto of our friend Horace. I'll school Hector - by and by, and put it all to rights." But Lovel persisted in his design of - returning to Fairport. - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary then assumed a graver tone.—"Take heed, young man, to - your present feelings. Your life has been given you for useful and - valuable purposes, and should be reserved to illustrate the literature of - your country, when you are not called upon to expose it in her defence, or - in the rescue of the innocent. Private war, a practice unknown to the - civilised ancients, is, of all the absurdities introduced by the Gothic - tribes, the most gross, impious, and cruel. Let me hear no more of these - absurd quarrels, and I will show you the treatise upon the duello, which I - composed when the town-clerk and provost Mucklewhame chose to assume the - privileges of gentlemen, and challenged each other. I thought of printing - my Essay, which is signed <i>Pacificator;</i> but there was no need, as - the matter was taken up by the town-council of the borough." - </p> - <p> - "But I assure you, my dear sir, there is nothing between Captain M'Intyre - and me that can render such respectable interference necessary." - </p> - <p> - "See it be so; for otherwise, I will stand second to both parties." - </p> - <p> - So saying, the old gentleman got into the chaise, close to which Miss - M'Intyre had detained her brother, upon the same principle that the owner - of a quarrelsome dog keeps him by his side to prevent his fastening upon - another. But Hector contrived to give her precaution the slip, for, as he - was on horseback, he lingered behind the carriages until they had fairly - turned the corner in the road to Knockwinnock, and then, wheeling his - horse's head round, gave him the spur in the opposite direction. - </p> - <p> - A very few minutes brought him up with Lovel, who, perhaps anticipating - his intention, had not put his horse beyond a slow walk, when the clatter - of hoofs behind him announced Captain Mlntyre. The young soldier, his - natural heat of temper exasperated by the rapidity of motion, reined his - horse up suddenly and violently by Lovel's side, and touching his hat - slightly, inquired, in a very haughty tone of voice, "What am I to - understand, sir, by your telling me that your address was at my service?" - </p> - <p> - "Simply, sir," replied Lovel, "that my name is Lovel, and that my - residence is, for the present, Fairport, as you will see by this card." - </p> - <p> - "And is this all the information you are disposed to give me?" - </p> - <p> - "I see no right you have to require more." - </p> - <p> - "I find you, sir, in company with my sister," said the young soldier, "and - I have a right to know who is admitted into Miss M'Intyre's society." - </p> - <p> - "I shall take the liberty of disputing that right," replied Lovel, with a - manner as haughty as that of the young soldier;—"you find me in - society who are satisfied with the degree of information on my affairs - which I have thought proper to communicate, and you, a mere stranger, have - no right to inquire further." - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Lovel, if you served as you say you have"— - </p> - <p> - "If!" interrupted Lovel,—"<i>if</i> I have served as <i>I say</i> I - have?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, sir, such is my expression—<i>if</i> you have so served, you - must know that you owe me satisfaction either in one way or other." - </p> - <p> - "If that be your opinion, I shall be proud to give it to you, Captain - M'Intyre, in the way in which the word is generally used among gentlemen." - </p> - <p> - "Very well, sir," rejoined Hector, and, turning his horse round, galloped - off to overtake his party. - </p> - <p> - His absence had already alarmed them, and his sister, having stopped the - carriage, had her neck stretched out of the window to see where he was. - </p> - <p> - "What is the matter with you now?" said the Antiquary, "riding to and fro - as your neck were upon the wager—why do you not keep up with the - carriage?" - </p> - <p> - "I forgot my glove, sir," said Hector. - </p> - <p> - "Forgot your glove!—I presume you meant to say you went to throw it - down—But I will take order with you, my young gentleman—you - shall return with me this night to Monkbarns." So saying, he bid the - postilion go on. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTIETH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —If you fail Honour here, - Never presume to serve her any more; - Bid farewell to the integrity of armes; - And the honourable name of soldier - Fall from you, like a shivered wreath of laurel - By thunder struck from a desertlesse forehead. - A Faire Quarrell. -</pre> - <p> - Early the next morning, a gentleman came to wait upon Mr. Lovel, who was - up and ready to receive him. He was a military gentleman, a friend of - Captain M'Intyre's, at present in Fairport on the recruiting service. - Lovel and he were slightly known to each other. "I presume, sir," said Mr. - Lesley (such was the name of the visitor), "that you guess the occasion of - my troubling you so early?" - </p> - <p> - "A message from Captain M'Intyre, I presume?" - </p> - <p> - "The same. He holds himself injured by the manner in which you declined - yesterday to answer certain inquiries which he conceived himself entitled - to make respecting a gentleman whom he found in intimate society with his - family." - </p> - <p> - "May I ask, if you, Mr. Lesley, would have inclined to satisfy - interrogatories so haughtily and unceremoniously put to you?" - </p> - <p> - "Perhaps not;—and therefore, as I know the warmth of my friend - M'Intyre on such occasions, I feel very desirous of acting as peacemaker. - From Mr. Lovel's very gentleman-like manners, every one must strongly wish - to see him repel all that sort of dubious calumny which will attach itself - to one whose situation is not fully explained. If he will permit me, in - friendly conciliation, to inform Captain M'Intyre of his real name, for we - are led to conclude that of Lovel is assumed"— - </p> - <p> - "I beg your pardon, sir, but I cannot admit that inference." - </p> - <p> - "—Or at least," said Lesley, proceeding, "that it is not the name by - which Mr. Lovel has been at all times distinguished—if Mr. Lovel - will have the goodness to explain this circumstance, which, in my opinion, - he should do in justice to his own character, I will answer for the - amicable arrangement of this unpleasant business." - </p> - <p> - "Which is to say, Mr. Lesley, that if I condescend to answer questions - which no man has a right to ask, and which are now put to me under penalty - of Captain M'Intyre's resentment, Captain MIntyre will condescend to rest - satisfied? Mr. Lesley, I have just one word to say on this subject—I - have no doubt my secret, if I had one, might be safely entrusted to your - honour, but I do not feel called upon to satisfy the curiosity of any one. - Captain M'Intyre met me in society which of itself was a warrant to all - the world, and particularly ought to be such to him, that I was a - gentleman. He has, in my opinion, no right to go any further, or to - inquire the pedigree, rank, or circumstances, of a stranger, who, without - seeking any intimate connection with him, or his, chances to dine with his - uncle, or walk in company with his sister." - </p> - <p> - "In that case, Captain M'Intyre requests you to be informed, that your - farther visits at Monkbarns, and all connection with Miss M'Intyre, must - be dropt, as disagreeable to him." - </p> - <p> - "I shall certainly," said Lovel, "visit Mr. Oldbuck when it suits me, - without paying the least respect to his nephew's threats or irritable - feelings. I respect the young lady's name too much (though nothing can be - slighter than our acquaintance) to introduce it into such a discussion." - </p> - <p> - "Since that is your resolution, sir," answered Lesley, "Captain M'Intyre - requests that Mr. Lovel, unless he wishes to be announced as a very - dubious character, will favour him with a meeting this evening, at seven, - at the thorn-tree in the little valley close by the ruins of St. Ruth." - </p> - <p> - "Most unquestionably, I will wait upon him. There is only one difficulty—I - must find a friend to accompany me, and where to seek one on this short - notice, as I have no acquaintance in Fairport—I will be on the spot, - however—Captain M'Intyre may be assured of that." - </p> - <p> - Lesley had taken his hat, and was as far as the door of the apartment, - when, as if moved by the peculiarity of Lovel's situation, he returned, - and thus addressed him: "Mr. Lovel, there is something so singular in all - this, that I cannot help again resuming the argument. You must be yourself - aware at this moment of the inconvenience of your preserving an incognito, - for which, I am convinced, there can be no dishonourable reason. Still, - this mystery renders it difficult for you to procure the assistance of a - friend in a crisis so delicate—nay, let me add, that many persons - will even consider it as a piece of Quixotry in M'Intyre to give you a - meeting, while your character and circumstances are involved in such - obscurity." - </p> - <p> - "I understand your innuendo, Mr. Lesley," rejoined Lovel; and though I - might be offended at its severity, I am not so, because it is meant - kindly. But, in my opinion, he is entitled to all the privileges of a - gentleman, to whose charge, during the time he has been known in the - society where he happens to move, nothing can be laid that is unhandsome - or unbecoming. For a friend, I dare say I shall find some one or other who - will do me that good turn; and if his experience be less than I could - wish, I am certain not to suffer through that circumstance when you are in - the field for my antagonist." - </p> - <p> - "I trust you will not," said Lesley; "but as I must, for my own sake, be - anxious to divide so heavy a responsibility with a capable assistant, - allow me to say, that Lieutenant Taffril's gun-brig is come into the - roadstead, and he himself is now at old Caxon's, where he lodges. I think - you have the same degree of acquaintance with him as with me, and, as I am - sure I should willingly have rendered you such a service were I not - engaged on the other side, I am convinced he will do so at your first - request." - </p> - <p> - "At the thorn-tree, then, Mr. Lesley, at seven this evening—the - arms, I presume, are pistols?" - </p> - <p> - "Exactly. M'Intyre has chosen the hour at which he can best escape from - Monkbarns—he was with me this morning by five, in order to return - and present himself before his uncle was up. Good-morning to you, Mr. - Lovel." And Lesley left the apartment. - </p> - <p> - Lovel was as brave as most men; but none can internally regard such a - crisis as now approached, without deep feelings of awe and uncertainty. In - a few hours he might be in another world to answer for an action which his - calmer thought told him was unjustifiable in a religious point of view, or - he might be wandering about in the present like Cain, with the blood of - his brother on his head. And all this might be saved by speaking a single - word. Yet pride whispered, that to speak that word now, would be ascribed - to a motive which would degrade him more low than even the most injurious - reasons that could be assigned for his silence. Every one, Miss Wardour - included, must then, he thought, account him a mean dishonoured poltroon, - who gave to the fear of meeting Captain M'Intyre the explanation he had - refused to the calm and handsome expostulations of Mr. Lesley. M'Intyre's - insolent behaviour to himself personally, the air of pretension which he - assumed towards Miss Wardour, and the extreme injustice, arrogance, and - incivility of his demands upon a perfect stranger, seemed to justify him - in repelling his rude investigation. In short, he formed the resolution - which might have been expected from so young a man,—to shut the - eyes, namely, of his calmer reason, and follow the dictates of his - offended pride. With this purpose he sought Lieutenant Taffril. - </p> - <p> - The lieutenant received him with the good breeding of a gentleman and the - frankness of a sailor, and listened with no small surprise to the detail - which preceded his request that he might be favoured with his company at - his meeting with Captain M'Intyre. When he had finished, Taffril rose up - and walked through his apartment once or twice. "This is a most singular - circumstance," he said, "and really"— - </p> - <p> - "I am conscious, Mr. Taffril, how little I am entitled to make my present - request, but the urgency of circumstances hardly leaves me an - alternative." - </p> - <p> - "Permit me to ask you one question," asked the sailor;—"is there - anything of which you are ashamed in the circumstances which you have - declined to communicate." - </p> - <p> - "Upon my honour, no; there is nothing but what, in a very short time, I - trust I may publish to the whole world." - </p> - <p> - "I hope the mystery arises from no false shame at the lowness of your - friends perhaps, or connections?" - </p> - <p> - "No, on my word," replied Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "I have little sympathy for that folly," said Taffril—"indeed I - cannot be supposed to have any; for, speaking of my relations, I may be - said to have come myself from before the mast, and I believe I shall very - soon form a connection, which the world will think low enough, with a very - amiable girl, to whom I have been attached since we were next-door - neighbours, at a time when I little thought of the good fortune which has - brought me forward in the service." - </p> - <p> - "I assure you, Mr. Taffril," replied Lovel, "whatever were the rank of my - parents, I should never think of concealing it from a spirit of petty - pride. But I am so situated at present, that I cannot enter on the subject - of my family with any propriety." - </p> - <p> - "It is quite enough," said the honest sailor—"give me your hand; - I'll see you as well through this business as I can, though it is but an - unpleasant one after all—But what of that? our own honour has the - next call on us after our country;—you are a lad of spirit, and I - own I think Mr. Hector M'Intyre, with his long pedigree and his airs of - family, very much of a jackanapes. His father was a soldier of fortune as - I am a sailor—he himself, I suppose, is little better, unless just - as his uncle pleases; and whether one pursues fortune by land, or sea, - makes no great difference, I should fancy." - </p> - <p> - "None in the universe, certainly," answered Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "Well," said his new ally, "we will dine together and arrange matters for - this rencounter. I hope you understand the use of the weapon?" - </p> - <p> - "Not particularly," Lovel replied. - </p> - <p> - "I am sorry for that—M'Intyre is said to be a marksman." - </p> - <p> - "I am sorry for it also," said Lovel, "both for his sake and my own: I - must then, in self-defence, take my aim as well as I can." - </p> - <p> - "Well," added Taffril, "I will have our surgeon's mate on the field—a - good clever young fellow at caulking a shot-hole. I will let Lesley, who - is an honest fellow for a landsman, know that he attends for the benefit - of either party. Is there anything I can do for you in case of an - accident?" - </p> - <p> - "I have but little occasion to trouble you," said Lovel. "This small - billet contains the key of my escritoir, and my very brief secret. There - is one letter in the escritoir" (digesting a temporary swelling of the - heart as he spoke), "which I beg the favour of you to deliver with your - own hand." - </p> - <p> - "I understand," said the sailor. "Nay, my friend, never be ashamed for the - matter—an affectionate heart may overflow for an instant at the - eyes, if the ship were clearing for action; and, depend on it, whatever - your injunctions are, Dan Taffril will regard them like the bequest of a - dying brother. But this is all stuff;—we must get our things in - fighting order, and you will dine with me and my little surgeon's mate, at - the Graeme's-Arms over the way, at four o'clock." - </p> - <p> - "Agreed," said Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "Agreed," said Taffril; and the whole affair was arranged. - </p> - <p> - It was a beautiful summer evening, and the shadow of the solitary - thorn-tree was lengthening upon the short greensward of the narrow valley, - which was skirted by the woods that closed around the ruins of St. Ruth. * - </p> - <p> - * [Supposed to have been suggested by the old Abbey of Arbroath in * - Forfarshire.] - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0010" id="image-0010"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa261.jpg" alt="St. Ruth (arbroath Abbey) " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - Lovel and Lieutenant Taffril, with the surgeon, came upon the ground with - a purpose of a nature very uncongenial to the soft, mild, and pacific - character of the hour and scene. The sheep, which during the ardent heat - of the day had sheltered in the breaches and hollows of the gravelly bank, - or under the roots of the aged and stunted trees, had now spread - themselves upon the face of the hill to enjoy their evening's pasture, and - bleated, to each other with that melancholy sound which at once gives life - to a landscape, and marks its solitude.—Taffril and Lovel came on in - deep conference, having, for fear of discovery, sent their horses back to - the town by the Lieutenant's servant. The opposite party had not yet - appeared on the field. But when they came upon the ground, there sat upon - the roots of the old thorn a figure as vigorous in his decay as the - moss-grown but strong and contorted boughs which served him for a canopy. - It was old Ochiltree. "This is embarrassing enough," said Lovel:—"How - shall we get rid of this old fellow?" - </p> - <p> - "Here, father Adam," cried Taffril, who knew the mendicant of yore—"here's - half-a-crown for you. You must go to the Four Horse-shoes yonder—the - little inn, you know, and inquire for a servant with blue and yellow - livery. If he is not come, you'll wait for him, and tell him we shall be - with his master in about an hour's time. At any rate, wait there till we - come back,—and—Get off with you—Come, come, weigh - anchor." - </p> - <p> - "I thank ye for your awmous," said Ochiltree, pocketing the piece of - money; "but I beg your pardon, Mr. Taffril—I canna gang your errand - e'en now." - </p> - <p> - "Why not, man? what can hinder you?" - </p> - <p> - "I wad speak a word wi' young Mr. Lovel." - </p> - <p> - "With me?" answered Lovel: "what would you say with me? Come, say on, and - be brief." - </p> - <p> - The mendicant led him a few paces aside. "Are ye indebted onything to the - Laird o' Monkbarns?" - </p> - <p> - "Indebted!—no, not I—what of that?—what makes you think - so?" - </p> - <p> - "Ye maun ken I was at the shirra's the day; for, God help me, I gang about - a' gates like the troubled spirit; and wha suld come whirling there in a - post-chaise, but Monkbarns in an unco carfuffle—now, it's no a - little thing that will make his honour take a chaise and post-horse twa - days rinnin'." - </p> - <p> - "Well, well; but what is all this to me?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, ye'se hear, ye'se hear. Weel, Monkbarns is closeted wi' the shirra - whatever puir folk may be left thereout—ye needna doubt that—the - gentlemen are aye unco civil amang themsells." - </p> - <p> - "For heaven's sake, my old friend"— - </p> - <p> - "Canna ye bid me gang to the deevil at ance, Mr. Lovel? it wad be mair - purpose fa'ard than to speak o' heaven in that impatient gate." - </p> - <p> - "But I have private business with Lieutenant Taffril here." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, weel, a' in gude time," said the beggar—"I can use a little - wee bit freedom wi' Mr. Daniel Taffril;—mony's the peery and the tap - I worked for him langsyne, for I was a worker in wood as weel as a - tinkler." - </p> - <p> - "You are either mad, Adam, or have a mind to drive me mad." - </p> - <p> - "Nane o' the twa," said Edie, suddenly changing his manner from the - protracted drawl of the mendicant to a brief and decided tone. "The shirra - sent for his clerk, and as the lad is rather light o' the tongue, I fand - it was for drawing a warrant to apprehend you—I thought it had been - on a <i>fugie</i> warrant for debt; for a' body kens the laird likes - naebody to pit his hand in his pouch—But now I may haud my tongue, - for I see the M'Intyre lad and Mr. Lesley coming up, and I guess that - Monkbarns's purpose was very kind, and that yours is muckle waur than it - should be." - </p> - <p> - The antagonist now approached, and saluted with the stern civility which - befitted the occasion. "What has this old fellow to do here?" said - M'Intyre. - </p> - <p> - "I am an auld fallow," said Edie, "but I am also an auld soldier o' your - father's, for I served wi' him in the 42d." - </p> - <p> - "Serve where you please, you have no title to intrude on us," said - M'Intyre, "or"—and he lifted his cane <i>in terrorem,</i> though - without the idea of touching the old man. - </p> - <p> - But Ochiltree's courage was roused by the insult. "Haud down your switch, - Captain M'Intyre! I am an auld soldier, as I said before, and I'll take - muckle frae your father's son; but no a touch o' the wand while my - pike-staff will haud thegither." - </p> - <p> - "Well, well, I was wrong—I was wrong," said M'Intyre; "here's a - crown for you—go your ways—what's the matter now?" - </p> - <p> - The old man drew himself up to the full advantage of his uncommon height, - and in despite of his dress, which indeed had more of the pilgrim than the - ordinary beggar, looked from height, manner, and emphasis of voice and - gesture, rather like a grey palmer or eremite preacher, the ghostly - counsellor of the young men who were around him, than the object of their - charity. His speech, indeed, was as homely as his habit, but as bold and - unceremonious as his erect and dignified demeanour. "What are ye come here - for, young men?" he said, addressing himself to the surprised audience; - "are ye come amongst the most lovely works of God to break his laws? Have - ye left the works of man, the houses and the cities that are but clay and - dust, like those that built them—and are ye come here among the - peaceful hills, and by the quiet waters, that will last whiles aught - earthly shall endure, to destroy each other's lives, that will have but an - unco short time, by the course of nature, to make up a lang account at the - close o't? O sirs! hae ye brothers, sisters, fathers, that hae tended ye, - and mothers that hae travailed for ye, friends that hae ca'd ye like a - piece o' their ain heart? and is this the way ye tak to make them - childless and brotherless and friendless? Ohon! it's an ill feight whar he - that wins has the warst o't. Think on't, bairns. I'm a puir man—but - I'm an auld man too—and what my poverty takes awa frae the weight o' - my counsel, grey hairs and a truthfu' heart should add it twenty times. - Gang hame, gang hame, like gude lads—the French will be ower to - harry us ane o' thae days, and ye'll hae feighting eneugh, and maybe auld - Edie will hirple out himsell if he can get a feal-dyke to lay his gun - ower, and may live to tell you whilk o' ye does the best where there's a - good cause afore ye." - </p> - <p> - There was something in the undaunted and independent manner, hardy - sentiment, and manly rude elocution of the old man, that had its effect - upon the party, and particularly on the seconds, whose pride was - uninterested in bringing the dispute to a bloody arbitrament, and who, on - the contrary, eagerly watched for an opportunity to recommend - reconciliation. - </p> - <p> - "Upon my word, Mr. Lesley," said Taffril, "old Adam speaks like an oracle. - Our friends here were very angry yesterday, and of course very foolish;—today - they should be cool, or at least we must be so in their behalf. I think - the word should be forget and forgive on both sides,—that we should - all shake hands, fire these foolish crackers in the air, and go home to - sup in a body at the Graeme's-Arms." - </p> - <p> - "I would heartily recommend it," said Lesley; "for, amidst a great deal of - heat and irritation on both sides, I confess myself unable to discover any - rational ground of quarrel." - </p> - <p> - "Gentlemen," said M'Intyre, very coldly, "all this should have been - thought of before. In my opinion, persons that have carried this matter so - far as we have done, and who should part without carrying it any farther, - might go to supper at the Graeme's-Arms very joyously, but would rise the - next morning with reputations as ragged as our friend here, who has - obliged us with a rather unnecessary display of his oratory. I speak for - myself, that I find myself bound to call upon you to proceed without more - delay." - </p> - <p> - "And I," said Lovel, "as I never desired any, have also to request these - gentlemen to arrange preliminaries as fast as possible." - </p> - <p> - "Bairns! bairns!" cried old Ochiltree; but perceiving he was no longer - attended to—"Madmen, I should say—but your blood be on your - heads!" And the old man drew off from the ground, which was now measured - out by the seconds, and continued muttering and talking to himself in - sullen indignation, mixed with anxiety, and with a strong feeling of - painful curiosity. Without paying farther attention to his presence or - remonstrances, Mr. Lesley and the Lieutenant made the necessary - arrangements for the duel, and it was agreed that both parties should fire - when Mr. Lesley dropped his handkerchief. - </p> - <p> - The fatal sign was given, and both fired almost in the same moment. - Captain M'Intyre's ball grazed the side of his opponent, but did not draw - blood. That of Lovel was more true to the aim; M'Intyre reeled and fell. - Raising himself on his arm, his first exclamation was, "It is nothing—it - is nothing—give us the other pistols." But in an instant he said, in - a lower tone, "I believe I have enough—and what's worse, I fear I - deserve it. Mr. Lovel, or whatever your name is, fly and save yourself—Bear - all witness, I provoked this matter." Then raising himself again on his - arm, he added, "Shake hands, Lovel—I believe you to be a gentleman—forgive - my rudeness, and I forgive you my death—My poor sister!" - </p> - <p> - The surgeon came up to perform his part of the tragedy, and Lovel stood - gazing on the evil of which he had been the active, though unwilling - cause, with a dizzy and bewildered eye. He was roused from his trance by - the grasp of the mendicant. "Why stand you gazing on your deed?—What's - doomed is doomed—what's done is past recalling. But awa, awa, if ye - wad save your young blood from a shamefu' death—I see the men out by - yonder that are come ower late to part ye—but, out and alack! sune - eneugh, and ower sune, to drag ye to prison." - </p> - <p> - "He is right—he is right," exclaimed Taffril; "you must not attempt - to get on the high-road—get into the wood till night. My brig will - be under sail by that time, and at three in the morning, when the tide - will serve, I shall have the boat waiting for you at the Mussel-crag. - Away-away, for Heaven's sake!" - </p> - <p> - "O yes! fly, fly!" repeated the wounded man, his words faltering with - convulsive sobs. - </p> - <p> - "Come with me," said the mendicant, almost dragging him off; "the - Captain's plan is the best—I'll carry ye to a place where ye might - be concealed in the meantime, were they to seek ye 'wi' sleuth-hounds." - </p> - <p> - "Go, go," again urged Lieutenant Taffril—"to stay here is mere - madness." - </p> - <p> - "It was worse madness to have come hither," said Lovel, pressing his hand—"But - farewell!" And he followed Ochiltree into the recesses of the wood. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —The Lord Abbot had a soul - Subtile and quick, and searching as the fire; - By magic stairs he went as deep as hell, - And if in devils' possession gold be kept, - He brought some sure from thence—'tis hid in caves, - Known, save to me, to none.— - The Wonder of a Kingdome. -</pre> - <p> - Lovel almost mechanically followed the beggar, who led the way with a - hasty and steady pace, through bush and bramble, avoiding the beaten path, - and often turning to listen whether there were any sounds of pursuit - behind them. They sometimes descended into the very bed of the torrent, - sometimes kept a narrow and precarious path, that the sheep (which, with - the sluttish negligence towards property of that sort universal in - Scotland, were allowed to stray in the copse) had made along the very - verge of its overhanging banks. From time to time Lovel had a glance of - the path which he had traversed the day before in company with Sir Arthur, - the Antiquary, and the young ladies. Dejected, embarrassed, and occupied - by a thousand inquietudes, as he then was, what would he now have given to - regain the sense of innocence which alone can counter-balance a thousand - evils! "Yet, then," such was his hasty and involuntary reflection, "even - then, guiltless and valued by all around me, I thought myself unhappy. - What am I now, with this young man's blood upon my hands?—the - feeling of pride which urged me to the deed has now deserted me, as the - actual fiend himself is said to do those whom he has tempted to guilt." - Even his affection for Miss Wardour sunk for the time before the first - pangs of remorse, and he thought he could have encountered every agony of - slighted love to have had the conscious freedom from blood-guiltiness - which he possessed in the morning. - </p> - <p> - These painful reflections were not interrupted by any conversation on the - part of his guide, who threaded the thicket before him, now holding back - the sprays to make his path easy, now exhorting him to make haste, now - muttering to himself, after the custom of solitary and neglected old age, - words which might have escaped Lovel's ear even had he listened to them, - or which, apprehended and retained, were too isolated to convey any - connected meaning,—a habit which may be often observed among people - of the old man's age and calling. - </p> - <p> - At length, as Lovel, exhausted by his late indisposition, the harrowing - feelings by which he was agitated, and the exertion necessary to keep up - with his guide in a path so rugged, began to flag and fall behind, two or - three very precarious steps placed him on the front of a precipice - overhung with brushwood and copse. Here a cave, as narrow in its entrance - as a fox-earth, was indicated by a small fissure in the rock, screened by - the boughs of an aged oak, which, anchored by its thick and twisted roots - in the upper part of the cleft, flung its branches almost straight outward - from the cliff, concealing it effectually from all observation. It might - indeed have escaped the attention even of those who had stood at its very - opening, so uninviting was the portal at which the beggar entered. But - within, the cavern was higher and more roomy, cut into two separate - branches, which, intersecting each other at right angles, formed an emblem - of the cross, and indicated the abode of an anchoret of former times. - There are many caves of the same kind in different parts of Scotland. I - need only instance those of Gorton, near Rosslyn, in a scene well known to - the admirers of romantic nature. - </p> - <p> - The light within the eave was a dusky twilight at the entrance, which - failed altogether in the inner recesses. "Few folks ken o' this place," - said the old man; "to the best o'my knowledge, there's just twa living by - mysell, and that's Jingling Jock and the Lang Linker. I have had mony a - thought, that when I fand mysell auld and forfairn, and no able to enjoy - God's blessed air ony langer, I wad drag mysell here wi' a pickle - ait-meal; and see, there's a bit bonny dropping well that popples that - self-same gate simmer and winter;—and I wad e'en streek mysell out - here, and abide my removal, like an auld dog that trails its useless - ugsome carcass into some bush or bracken no to gie living things a scunner - wi' the sight o't when it's dead—Ay, and then, when the dogs barked - at the lone farm-stead, the gudewife wad cry, Whisht, stirra, that'll be - auld Edie,' and the bits o' weans wad up, puir things, and toddle to the - door to pu' in the auld Blue-Gown that mends a' their bonny-dies—But - there wad be nae mair word o' Edie, I trow." - </p> - <p> - He then led Lovel, who followed him unresistingly, into one of the - interior branches of the cave. "Here," he said, "is a bit turnpike-stair - that gaes up to the auld kirk abune. Some folks say this place was howkit - out by the monks lang syne to hide their treasure in, and some said that - they used to bring things into the abbey this gate by night, that they - durstna sae weel hae brought in by the main port and in open day—And - some said that ane o' them turned a saint (or aiblins wad hae had folk - think sae), and settled him down in this Saint Ruth's cell, as the auld - folks aye ca'd it, and garr'd big the stair, that he might gang up to the - kirk when they were at the divine service. The Laird o' Monkbarns wad hae - a hantle to say about it, as he has about maist things, if he ken'd only - about the place. But whether it was made for man's devices or God's - service, I have seen ower muckle sin done in it in my day, and far ower - muckle have I been partaker of—ay, even here in this dark cove. Mony - a gudewife's been wondering what for the red cock didna craw her up in the - morning, when he's been roasting, puir fallow, in this dark hole—And, - ohon! I wish that and the like o' that had been the warst o't! Whiles they - wad hae heard the din we were making in the very bowels o' the earth, when - Sanders Aikwood, that was forester in thae days, the father o' Ringan that - now is, was gaun daundering about the wood at e'en, to see after the - Laird's game and whiles he wad hae seen a glance o' the light frae the - door o' the cave, flaughtering against the hazels on the other bank;—and - then siccan stories as Sanders had about the worricows and gyre-carlins - that haunted about the auld wa's at e'en, and the lights that he had seen, - and the cries that he had heard, when there was nae mortal e'e open but - his ain; and eh! as he wad thrum them ower and ower to the like o' me - ayont the ingle at e'en, and as I wad gie the auld silly carle grane for - grane, and tale for tale, though I ken'd muckle better about it than ever - he did. Ay, ay—they were daft days thae;—but they were a' - vanity, and waur,—and it's fitting that they wha hae led a light and - evil life, and abused charity when they were young, suld aiblins come to - lack it when they are auld." - </p> - <p> - While Ochiltree was thus recounting the exploits and tricks of his earlier - life, with a tone in which glee and compunction alternately predominated, - his unfortunate auditor had sat down upon the hermit's seat, hewn out of - the solid rock, and abandoned himself to that lassitude, both of mind and - body, which generally follows a course of events that have agitated both, - The effect of his late indisposition, which had much weakened his system, - contributed to this lethargic despondency. "The puir bairn!" said auld - Edie, "an he sleeps in this damp hole, he'll maybe wauken nae mair, or - catch some sair disease. It's no the same to him as to the like o' us, - that can sleep ony gate an anes our wames are fu'. Sit up, Maister Lovel, - lad! After a's come and gane, I dare say the captain-lad will do weel - eneugh—and, after a', ye are no the first that has had this - misfortune. I hae seen mony a man killed, and helped to kill them mysell, - though there was nae quarrel between us—and if it isna wrang to kill - folk we have nae quarrel wi', just because they wear another sort of a - cockade, and speak a foreign language, I canna see but a man may have - excuse for killing his ain mortal foe, that comes armed to the fair field - to kill him. I dinna say it's right—God forbid—or that it isna - sinfu' to take away what ye canna restore, and that's the breath of man, - whilk is in his nostrils; but I say it is a sin to be forgiven if it's - repented of. Sinfu' men are we a'; but if ye wad believe an auld grey - sinner that has seen the evil o' his ways, there is as much promise atween - the twa boards o' the Testament as wad save the warst o' us, could we but - think sae." - </p> - <p> - With such scraps of comfort and of divinity as he possessed, the mendicant - thus continued to solicit and compel the attention of Lovel, until the - twilight began to fade into night. "Now," said Ochiltree, "I will carry ye - to a mair convenient place, where I hae sat mony a time to hear the howlit - crying out of the ivy tod, and to see the moonlight come through the auld - windows o' the ruins. There can be naebody come here after this time o' - night; and if they hae made ony search, thae blackguard shirra'-officers - and constables, it will hae been ower lang syne. Od, they are as great - cowards as ither folk, wi' a' their warrants and king's keys*—I hae - gien some o' them a gliff in my day, when they were coming rather ower - near me—But, lauded be grace for it! they canna stir me now for ony - waur than an auld man and a beggar, and my badge is a gude protection; and - then Miss Isabella Wardour is a tower o' strength, ye ken"—(Lovel - sighed)—"Aweel, dinna be cast down—bowls may a' row right yet—gie - the lassie time to ken her mind. She's the wale o' the country for beauty, - and a gude friend o' mine—I gang by the bridewell as safe as by the - kirk on a Sabbath—deil ony o' them daur hurt a hair o' auld Edie's - head now; I keep the crown o' the causey when I gae to the borough, and - rub shouthers wi' a bailie wi' as little concern as an he were a brock." - </p> - <p> - * The king's keys are, in law phrase, the crow-bars and hammers used to - force doors and locks, in execution of the king's warrant. - </p> - <p> - While the mendicant spoke thus, he was busied in removing a few loose - stones in one angle of the eave, which obscured the entrance of the - staircase of which he had spoken, and led the way into it, followed by - Lovel in passive silence. - </p> - <p> - "The air's free eneugh," said the old man; "the monks took care o' that, - for they werena a lang-breathed generation, I reckon; they hae contrived - queer tirlie-wirlie holes, that gang out to the open air, and keep the - stair as caller as a kail-blade." - </p> - <p> - Lovel accordingly found the staircase well aired, and, though narrow, it - was neither ruinous nor long, but speedily admitted them into a narrow - gallery contrived to run within the side wall of the chancel, from which - it received air and light through apertures ingeniously hidden amid the - florid ornaments of the Gothic architecture. - </p> - <p> - "This secret passage ance gaed round great part o' the biggin," said the - beggar, "and through the wa' o' the place I've heard Monkbarns ca' the - Refractory" [meaning probably <i>Refectory</i>], "and so awa to the - Prior's ain house. It's like he could use it to listen what the monks were - saying at meal-time,—and then he might come ben here and see that - they were busy skreighing awa wi' the psalms doun below there; and then, - when he saw a' was right and tight, he might step awa and fetch in a - bonnie lass at the cove yonder—for they were queer hands the monks, - unless mony lees is made on them. But our folk were at great pains lang - syne to big up the passage in some parts, and pu' it down in others, for - fear o' some uncanny body getting into it, and finding their way down to - the cove: it wad hae been a fashious job that—by my certie, some o' - our necks wad hae been ewking." - </p> - <p> - They now came to a place where the gallery was enlarged into a small - circle, sufficient to contain a stone seat. A niche, constructed exactly - before it, projected forward into the chancel, and as its sides were - latticed, as it were, with perforated stone-work, it commanded a full view - of the chancel in every direction, and was probably constructed, as Edie - intimated, to be a convenient watch-tower, from which the superior priest, - himself unseen, might watch the behaviour of his monks, and ascertain, by - personal inspection, their punctual attendance upon those rites of - devotion which his rank exempted him from sharing with them. As this niche - made one of a regular series which stretched along the wall of the - chancel, and in no respect differed from the rest when seen from below, - the secret station, screened as it was by the stone figure of St. Michael - and the dragon, and the open tracery around the niche, was completely hid - from observation. The private passage, confined to its pristine breadth, - had originally continued beyond this seat; but the jealous precautions of - the vagabonds who frequented the cave of St. Ruth had caused them to build - it carefully up with hewn stones from the ruin. - </p> - <p> - "We shall be better here," said Edie, seating himself on the stone bench, - and stretching the lappet of his blue gown upon the spot, when he motioned - Lovel to sit down beside him—"we shall be better here than doun - below; the air's free and mild, and the savour of the wallflowers, and - siccan shrubs as grow on thae ruined wa's, is far mair refreshing than the - damp smell doun below yonder. They smell sweetest by night-time thae - flowers, and they're maist aye seen about rained buildings. Now, Maister - Lovel, can ony o' you scholars gie a gude reason for that?" - </p> - <p> - Lovel replied in the negative. - </p> - <p> - "I am thinking," resumed the beggar, "that they'll be, like mony folk's - gude gifts, that often seem maist gracious in adversity—or maybe - it's a parable, to teach us no to slight them that are in the darkness of - sin and the decay of tribulation, since God sends odours to refresh the - mirkest hour, and flowers and pleasant bushes to clothe the ruined - buildings. And now I wad like a wise man to tell me whether Heaven is - maist pleased wi' the sight we are looking upon—thae pleasant and - quiet lang streaks o' moonlight that are lying sae still on the floor o' - this auld kirk, and glancing through the great pillars and stanchions o' - the carved windows, and just dancing like on the leaves o' the dark ivy as - the breath o' wind shakes it—I wonder whether this is mair pleasing - to Heaven than when it was lighted up wi' lamps, and candles nae doubt, - and roughies,* and wi' the mirth and the frankincent that they speak of in - the Holy Scripture, and wi' organs assuredly, and men and women singers, - and sackbuts, and dulcimers, and a' instruments o' music—I wonder if - that was acceptable, or whether it is of these grand parafle o' ceremonies - that holy writ says, It is an abomination to me. - </p> - <p> - * Links, or torches. - </p> - <p> - I am thinking, Maister Lovel, if twa puir contrite spirits like yours and - mine fand grace to make our petition"— - </p> - <p> - Here Lovel laid his hand eagerly on the mendicant's arm, saying,—"Hush! - I heard some one speak." - </p> - <p> - "I am dull o' hearing," answered Edie, in a whisper, "but we're surely - safe here—where was the sound?" - </p> - <p> - Lovel pointed to the door of the chancel, which, highly ornamented, - occupied the west end of the building, surmounted by the carved window, - which let in a flood of moonlight over it. - </p> - <p> - "They can be nane o' our folk," said Edie in the same low and cautious - tone; "there's but twa o' them kens o' the place, and they're mony a mile - off, if they are still bound on their weary pilgrimage. I'll never think - it's the officers here at this time o' night. I am nae believer in auld - wives' stories about ghaists, though this is gey like a place for them—But - mortal, or of the other world, here they come!—twa men and a light." - </p> - <p> - And in very truth, while the mendicant spoke, two human figures darkened - with their shadows the entrance of the chancel—which had before - opened to the moon-lit meadow beyond, and the small lantern which one of - them displayed, glimmered pale in the clear and strong beams of the moon, - as the evening star does among the lights of the departing day. The first - and most obvious idea was, that, despite the asseverations of Edie - Ochiltree, the persons who approached the ruins at an hour so uncommon - must be the officers of justice in quest of Lovel. But no part of their - conduct confirmed the suspicion. A touch and a whisper from the old man - warned Lovel that his best course was to remain quiet, and watch their - motions from their present place of concealment. Should anything appear to - render retreat necessary, they had behind them the private stair-case and - cavern, by means of which they could escape into the wood long before any - danger of close pursuit. They kept themselves, therefore, as still as - possible, and observed with eager and anxious curiosity every accent and - motion of these nocturnal wanderers. - </p> - <p> - After conversing together some time in whispers, the two figures advanced - into the middle of the chancel; and a voice, which Lovel at once - recognised, from its tone and dialect, to be that of Dousterswivel, - pronounced in a louder but still a smothered tone, "Indeed, mine goot sir, - dere cannot be one finer hour nor season for dis great purpose. You shall - see, mine goot sir, dat it is all one bibble-babble dat Mr. Oldenbuck - says, and dat he knows no more of what he speaks than one little child. - Mine soul! he expects to get as rich as one Jew for his poor dirty one - hundred pounds, which I care no more about, by mine honest wort, than I - care for an hundred stivers. But to you, my most munificent and reverend - patron, I will show all de secrets dat art can show—ay, de secret of - de great Pymander." - </p> - <p> - <a name="image-0011" id="image-0011"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pa278.jpg" alt="The Ruins of St. Ruth " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - "That other ane," whispered Edie, "maun be, according to a' likelihood, - Sir Arthur Wardour—I ken naebody but himsell wad come here at this - time at e'en wi' that German blackguard;—ane wad think he's - bewitched him—he gars him e'en trow that chalk is cheese. Let's see - what they can be doing." - </p> - <p> - This interruption, and the low tone in which Sir Arthur spoke, made Lovel - lose all Sir Arthur's answer to the adept, excepting the last three - emphatic words, "Very great expense;" to which Dousterswivel at once - replied—"Expenses!—to be sure—dere must be de great - expenses. You do not expect to reap before you do sow de seed: de expense - is de seed—de riches and de mine of goot metal, and now de great big - chests of plate, they are de crop—vary goot crop too, on mine wort. - Now, Sir Arthur, you have sowed this night one little seed of ten guineas - like one pinch of snuff, or so big; and if you do not reap de great - harvest—dat is, de great harvest for de little pinch of seed, for it - must be proportions, you must know—then never call one honest man, - Herman Dousterswivel. Now you see, mine patron—for I will not - conceal mine secret from you at all—you see this little plate of - silver; you know de moon measureth de whole zodiack in de space of - twenty-eight day—every shild knows dat. Well, I take a silver plate - when she is in her fifteenth mansion, which mansion is in de head of <i>Libra,</i> - and I engrave upon one side de worts, [Shedbarschemoth Schartachan]—dat - is, de Emblems of de Intelligence of de moon—and I make this picture - like a flying serpent with a turkey-cock's head—vary well. Then upon - this side I make de table of de moon, which is a square of nine, - multiplied into itself, with eighty-one numbers on every side, and - diameter nine—dere it is done very proper. Now I will make dis avail - me at de change of every quarter-moon dat I shall find by de same - proportions of expenses I lay out in de suffumigations, as nine, to de - product of nine multiplied into itself—But I shall find no more - to-night as maybe two or dree times nine, because dere is a thwarting - power in de house of ascendency." - </p> - <p> - "But, Dousterswivel," said the simple Baronet, "does not this look like - magic?—I am a true though unworthy son of the Episcopal church, and - I will have nothing to do with the foul fiend." - </p> - <p> - "Bah! bah!—not a bit magic in it at all—not a bit—It is - all founded on de planetary influence, and de sympathy and force of - numbers. I will show you much finer dan dis. I do not say dere is not de - spirit in it, because of de suffumigation; but, if you are not afraid, he - shall not be invisible." - </p> - <p> - "I have no curiosity to see him at all," said the Baronet, whose courage - seemed, from a certain quaver in his accent, to have taken a fit of the - ague. - </p> - <p> - "Dat is great pity," said Dousterswivel; "I should have liked to show you - de spirit dat guard dis treasure like one fierce watchdog—but I know - how to manage him;—you would not care to see him?" - </p> - <p> - "Not at all," answered the Baronet, in a tone of feigned indifference; "I - think we have but little time." - </p> - <p> - "You shall pardon me, my patron; it is not yet twelve, and twelve precise - is just our planetary hours; and I could show you de spirit vary well, in - de meanwhile, just for pleasure. You see I would draw a pentagon within a - circle, which is no trouble at all, and make my suffumigation within it, - and dere we would be like in one strong castle, and you would hold de - sword while I did say de needful worts. Den you should see de solid wall - open like de gate of ane city, and den—let me see—ay, you - should see first one stag pursued by three black greyhounds, and they - should pull him down as they do at de elector's great hunting-match; and - den one ugly, little, nasty black negro should appear and take de stag - from them—and paf—all should be gone; den you should hear - horns winded dat all de ruins should ring—mine wort, they should - play fine hunting piece, as goot as him you call'd Fischer with his oboi; - vary well—den comes one herald, as we call Ernhold, winding his horn—and - den come de great Peolphan, called de mighty Hunter of de North, mounted - on hims black steed. But you would not care to see all this?"* - </p> - <p> - * Note F. Witchcraft. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Why, I am not afraid," answered the poor Baronet,—"if—that is—does -anything—any great mischiefs, happen on such occasions?" -</pre> - <p> - "Bah! mischiefs? no!—sometimes if de circle be no quite just, or de - beholder be de frightened coward, and not hold de sword firm and straight - towards him, de Great Hunter will take his advantage, and drag him - exorcist out of de circle and throttle him. Dat does happens." - </p> - <p> - "Well then, Dousterswivel, with every confidence in my courage and your - skill, we will dispense with this apparition, and go on to the business of - the night." - </p> - <p> - "With all mine heart—it is just one thing to me—and now it is - de time—hold you de sword till I kindle de little what you call - chip." - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel accordingly set fire to a little pile of chips, touched and - prepared with some bituminous substance to make them burn fiercely; and - when the flame was at the highest, and lightened, with its shortlived - glare, all the ruins around, the German flung in a handful of perfumes - which produced a strong and pungent odour. The exorcist and his pupil both - were so much affected as to cough and sneeze heartily; and, as the vapour - floated around the pillars of the building, and penetrated every crevice, - it produced the same effect on the beggar and Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "Was that an echo?" said the Baronet, astonished at the sternutation which - resounded from above; "or"—drawing close to the adept, "can it be - the spirit you talked of, ridiculing our attempt upon his hidden - treasures?" - </p> - <p> - "N—n—no," muttered the German, who began to partake of his - pupil's terrors, "I hope not." - </p> - <p> - Here a violent of sneezing, which the mendicant was unable to suppress, - and which could not be considered by any means as the dying fall of an - echo, accompanied by a grunting half-smothered cough, confounded the two - treasure-seekers. "Lord have mercy on us!" said the Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "<i>Alle guten Geistern loben den Herrn!</i>" ejaculated the terrified - adept. "I was begun to think," he continued, after a moment's silence, - "that this would be de bestermost done in de day-light—we was - bestermost to go away just now." - </p> - <p> - "You juggling villain!" said the Baronet, in whom these expressions - awakened a suspicion that overcame his terrors, connected as it was with - the sense of desperation arising from the apprehension of impending ruin—"you - juggling mountebank! this is some legerdemain trick of yours to get off - from the performance of your promise, as you have so often done before. - But, before Heaven! I will this night know what I have trusted to when I - suffered you to fool me on to my ruin! Go on, then—come fairy, come - fiend, you shall show me that treasure, or confess yourself a knave and an - impostor, or, by the faith of a desperate and ruined man, I'll send you - where you shall see spirits enough." - </p> - <p> - The treasure-finder, trembling between his terror for the supernatural - beings by whom he supposed himself to be surrounded, and for his life, - which seemed to be at the mercy of a desperate man, could only bring out, - "Mine patron, this is not the allerbestmost usage. Consider, mine honoured - sir, that de spirits"— - </p> - <p> - Here Edie, who began to enter into the humour of the scene, uttered an - extraordinary howl, being an exaltation and a prolongation of the most - deplorable whine in which he was accustomed to solicit charity. - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel flung himself on his knees—"Dear Sir Arthurs, let us - go, or let me go!" - </p> - <p> - "No, you cheating scoundrel!" said the knight, unsheathing the sword which - he had brought for the purposes of the exorcism, "that shift shall not - serve you—Monkbarns warned me long since of your juggling pranks—I - will see this treasure before you leave this place, or I will have you - confess yourself an impostor, or, by Heaven, I'll run this sword through - you, though all the spirits of the dead should rise around us!" - </p> - <p> - "For de lofe of Heaven be patient, mine honoured patron, and you shall - hafe all de treasure as I knows of—yes, you shall indeed—But - do not speak about de spirits—it makes dem angry." - </p> - <p> - Edie Ochiltree here prepared himself to throw in another groan, but was - restrained by Lovel, who began to take a more serious interest, as he - observed the earnest and almost desperate demeanour of Sir Arthur. - Dousterswivel, having at once before his eyes the fear of the foul fiend, - and the violence of Sir Arthur, played his part of a conjuror extremely - ill, hesitating to assume the degree of confidence necessary to deceive - the latter, lest it should give offence to the invisible cause of his - alarm. However, after rolling his eyes, muttering and sputtering German - exorcisms, with contortions of his face and person, rather flowing from - the impulse of terror than of meditated fraud, he at length proceeded to a - corner of the building where a flat stone lay upon the ground, bearing - upon its surface the effigy of an armed warrior in a recumbent posture - carved in bas-relief. He muttered to Sir Arthur, "Mine patrons, it is here—Got - save us all!" - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur, who, after the first moment of his superstitious fear was - over, seemed to have bent up all his faculties to the pitch of resolution - necessary to carry on the adventure, lent the adept his assistance to turn - over the stone, which, by means of a lever that the adept had provided, - their joint force with difficulty effected. No supernatural light burst - forth from below to indicate the subterranean treasury, nor was there any - apparition of spirits, earthly or infernal. But when Dousterswivel had, - with great trepidation, struck a few strokes with a mattock, and as - hastily thrown out a shovelful or two of earth (for they came provided - with the tools necessary for digging), something was heard to ring like - the sound of a falling piece of metal, and Dousterswivel, hastily catching - up the substance which produced it, and which his shovel had thrown out - along with the earth, exclaimed, "On mine dear wort, mine patrons, dis is - all—it is indeed; I mean all we can do to-night;"—and he gazed - round him with a cowering and fearful glance, as if to see from what - corner the avenger of his imposture was to start forth. - </p> - <p> - "Let me see it," said Sir Arthur; and then repeated, still more sternly, - "I will be satisfied—I will judge by mine own eyes." He accordingly - held the object to the light of the lantern. It was a small case, or - casket,—for Lovel could not at the distance exactly discern its - shape, which, from the Baronet's exclamation as he opened it, he concluded - was filled with coin. "Ay," said the Baronet, "this is being indeed in - good luck! and if it omens proportional success upon a larger venture, the - venture shall be made. That six hundred of Goldieword's, added to the - other incumbent claims, must have been ruin indeed. If you think we can - parry it by repeating this experiment—suppose when the moon next - changes,—I will hazard the necessary advance, come by it how I may." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, mine good patrons, do not speak about all dat," said Dousterswivel, - "as just now, but help me to put de shtone to de rights, and let us begone - our own ways." And accordingly, so soon as the stone was replaced, he - hurried Sir Arthur, who was now resigned once more to his guidance, away - from a spot, where the German's guilty conscience and superstitious fears - represented goblins as lurking behind each pillar with the purpose of - punishing his treachery. - </p> - <p> - "Saw onybody e'er the like o' that!" said Edie, when they had disappeared - like shadows through the gate by which they had entered—"saw ony - creature living e'er the like o' that!—But what can we do for that - puir doited deevil of a knight-baronet? Od, he showed muckle mair spunk, - too, than I thought had been in him—I thought he wad hae sent cauld - iron through the vagabond—Sir Arthur wasna half sae bauld at - Bessie's-apron yon night—but then, his blood was up even now, and - that makes an unco difference. I hae seen mony a man wad hae felled - another an anger him, that wadna muckle hae liked a clink against - Crummies-horn yon time. But what's to be done?" - </p> - <p> - "I suppose," said Lovel, "his faith in this fellow is entirely restored by - this deception, which, unquestionably, he had arranged beforehand." - </p> - <p> - "What! the siller?—Ay, ay—trust him for that—they that - hide ken best where to find. He wants to wile him out o' his last guinea, - and then escape to his ain country, the land-louper. I wad likeit weel - just to hae come in at the clipping-time, and gien him a lounder wi' my - pike-staff; he wad hae taen it for a bennison frae some o' the auld dead - abbots. But it's best no to be rash; sticking disna gang by strength, but - by the guiding o' the gally. I'se be upsides wi' him ae day." - </p> - <p> - "What if you should inform Mr. Oldbuck?" said Lovel. - </p> - <p> - "Ou, I dinna ken—Monkbarns and Sir Arthur are like, and yet they're - no like neither. Monkbarns has whiles influence wi' him, and whiles Sir - Arthur cares as little about him as about the like o' me. Monkbarns is no - that ower wise himsell, in some things;—he wad believe a bodle to be - an auld Roman coin, as he ca's it, or a ditch to be a camp, upon ony - leasing that idle folk made about it. I hae garr'd him trow mony a queer - tale mysell, gude forgie me. But wi' a' that, he has unco little sympathy - wi' ither folks; and he's snell and dure eneugh in casting up their - nonsense to them, as if he had nane o' his ain. He'll listen the hale day, - an yell tell him about tales o' Wallace, and Blind Harry, and Davie - Lindsay; but ye maunna speak to him about ghaists or fairies, or spirits - walking the earth, or the like o' that;—he had amaist flung auld - Caxon out o' the window (and he might just as weel hae flung awa his best - wig after him), for threeping he had seen a ghaist at the humlock-knowe. - Now, if he was taking it up in this way, he wad set up the tother's birse, - and maybe do mair ill nor gude—he's done that twice or thrice about - thae mine-warks; ye wad thought Sir Arthur had a pleasure in gaun on wi' - them the deeper, the mair he was warned against it by Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - "What say you then," said Lovel, "to letting Miss Wardour know the - circumstance?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, puir thing, how could she stop her father doing his pleasure?—and, - besides, what wad it help? There's a sough in the country about that six - hundred pounds, and there's a writer chield in Edinburgh has been driving - the spur-rowels o' the law up to the head into Sir Arthur's sides to gar - him pay it, and if he canna, he maun gang to jail or flee the country. - He's like a desperate man, and just catches at this chance as a' he has - left, to escape utter perdition; so what signifies plaguing the puir - lassie about what canna be helped? And besides, to say the truth, I wadna - like to tell the secret o' this place. It's unco convenient, ye see - yoursell, to hae a hiding-hole o' ane's ain; and though I be out o' the - line o' needing ane e'en now, and trust in the power o' grace that I'll - neer do onything to need ane again, yet naebody kens what temptation ane - may be gien ower to—and, to be brief, I downa bide the thought of - anybody kennin about the place;—they say, keep a thing seven year, - an' yell aye find a use for't—and maybe I may need the cove, either - for mysell, or for some ither body." - </p> - <p> - This argument, in which Edie Ochiltree, notwithstanding his scraps of - morality and of divinity, seemed to take, perhaps from old habit, a - personal interest, could not be handsomely controverted by Lovel, who was - at that moment reaping the benefit of the secret of which the old man - appeared to be so jealous. - </p> - <p> - This incident, however, was of great service to Lovel, as diverting his - mind from the unhappy occurrence of the evening, and considerably rousing - the energies which had been stupefied by the first view of his calamity. - He reflected that it by no means necessarily followed that a dangerous - wound must be a fatal one—that he had been hurried from the spot - even before the surgeon had expressed any opinion of Captain M'Intyre's - situation—and that he had duties on earth to perform, even should - the very worst be true, which, if they could not restore his peace of mind - or sense of innocence, would furnish a motive for enduring existence, and - at the same time render it a course of active benevolence.—Such were - Lovel's feelings, when the hour arrived when, according to Edie's - calculation—who, by some train or process of his own in observing - the heavenly bodies, stood independent of the assistance of a watch or - time-keeper—it was fitting they should leave their hiding-place, and - betake themselves to the seashore, in order to meet Lieutenant Taffril's - boat according to appointment. - </p> - <p> - They retreated by the same passage which had admitted them to the prior's - secret seat of observation, and when they issued from the grotto into the - wood, the birds which began to chirp, and even to sing, announced that the - dawn was advanced. This was confirmed by the light and amber clouds that - appeared over the sea, as soon as their exit from the copse permitted them - to view the horizon.—Morning, said to be friendly to the muses, has - probably obtained this character from its effect upon the fancy and - feelings of mankind. Even to those who, like Lovel, have spent a sleepless - and anxious night, the breeze of the dawn brings strength and quickening - both of mind and body. It was, therefore, with renewed health and vigour - that Lovel, guided by the trusty mendicant, brushed away the dew as he - traversed the downs which divided the Den of St. Ruth, as the woods - surrounding the ruins were popularly called, from the sea-shore. - </p> - <p> - The first level beam of the sun, as his brilliant disk began to emerge - from the ocean, shot full upon the little gun-brig which was lying-to in - the offing—close to the shore the boat was already waiting, Taffril - himself, with his naval cloak wrapped about him, seated in the stern. He - jumped ashore when he saw the mendicant and Lovel approach, and, shaking - the latter heartily by the hand, begged him not to be cast down. - "M'Intyre's wound," he said, "was doubtful, but far from desperate." His - attention had got Lovel's baggage privately sent on board the brig; "and," - he said, "he trusted that, if Lovel chose to stay with the vessel, the - penalty of a short cruise would be the only disagreeable consequence of - his rencontre. As for himself, his time and motions were a good deal at - his own disposal, he said, excepting the necessary obligation of remaining - on his station." - </p> - <p> - "We will talk of our farther motions," said Lovel, "as we go on board." - </p> - <p> - Then turning to Edie, he endeavoured to put money into his hand. "I - think," said Edie, as he tendered it back again, "the hale folk here have - either gane daft, or they hae made a vow to rain my trade, as they say - ower muckle water drowns the miller. I hae had mair gowd offered me within - this twa or three weeks than I ever saw in my life afore. Keep the siller, - lad—yell hae need o't, I'se warrant ye, and I hae nane my claes is - nae great things, and I get a blue gown every year, and as mony siller - groats as the king, God bless him, is years auld—you and I serve the - same master, ye ken, Captain Taffril; there's rigging provided for—and - my meat and drink I get for the asking in my rounds, or, at an orra time, - I can gang a day without it, for I make it a rule never to pay for nane;—so - that a' the siller I need is just to buy tobacco and sneeshin, and maybe a - dram at a time in a cauld day, though I am nae dram-drinker to be a - gaberlunzie;—sae take back your gowd, and just gie me a lily-white - shilling." - </p> - <p> - Upon these whims, which he imagined intimately connected with the honour - of his vagabond profession, Edie was flint and adamant, not to be moved by - rhetoric or entreaty; and therefore Lovel was under the necessity of again - pocketing his intended bounty, and taking a friendly leave of the - mendicant by shaking him by the hand, and assuring him of his cordial - gratitude for the very important services which he had rendered him, - recommending, at the same time, secrecy as to what they had that night - witnessed.—"Ye needna doubt that," said Ochiltree; "I never tell'd - tales out o' yon cove in my life, though mony a queer thing I hae seen - in't." - </p> - <p> - The boat now put off. The old man remained looking after it as it made - rapidly towards the brig under the impulse of six stout rowers, and Lovel - beheld him again wave his blue bonnet as a token of farewell ere he turned - from his fixed posture, and began to move slowly along the sands as if - resuming his customary perambulations. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h2> - VOLUME II. - </h2> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0001" id="Alink2HCH0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FIRST. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Wiser Raymondus, in his closet pent, - Laughs at such danger and adventurement - When half his lands are spent in golden smoke, - And now his second hopeful glasse is broke, - But yet, if haply his third furnace hold, - Devoteth all his pots and pans to gold.* -</pre> - <p> - * The author cannot remember where these lines are to be found: perhaps in - Bishop Hall's Satires. [They occur in Book iv. Satire iii.] - </p> - <p> - About a week after the adventures commemorated in our last CHAPTER, Mr. - Oldbuck, descending to his breakfast-parlour, found that his womankind - were not upon duty, his toast not made, and the silver jug, which was wont - to receive his libations of mum, not duly aired for its reception. - </p> - <p> - "This confounded hot-brained boy!" he said to himself; "now that he begins - to get out of danger, I can tolerate this life no longer. All goes to - sixes and sevens—an universal saturnalia seems to be proclaimed in - my peaceful and orderly family. I ask for my sister—no answer. I - call, I shout—I invoke my inmates by more names than the Romans gave - to their deities—at length Jenny, whose shrill voice I have heard - this half-hour lilting in the Tartarean regions of the kitchen, - condescends to hear me and reply, but without coming up stairs, so the - conversation must be continued at the top of my lungs. "—Here he - again began to hollow aloud—"Jenny, where's Miss Oldbuck?" - </p> - <p> - "Miss Grizzy's in the captain's room." - </p> - <p> - "Umph!—I thought so—and where's my niece?" - </p> - <p> - "Miss Mary's making the captain's tea." - </p> - <p> - "Umph! I supposed as much again—and where's Caxon?" - </p> - <p> - "Awa to the town about the captain's fowling-gun, and his setting-dog." - </p> - <p> - "And who the devil's to dress my periwig, you silly jade?—when you - knew that Miss Wardour and Sir Arthur were coming here early after - breakfast, how could you let Caxon go on such a Tomfool's errand?" - </p> - <p> - "Me! what could I hinder him?—your honour wadna hae us contradict - the captain e'en now, and him maybe deeing?" - </p> - <p> - "Dying!" said the alarmed Antiquary,—"eh! what? has he been worse?" - </p> - <p> - "Na, he's no nae waur that I ken of."* - </p> - <p> - * It is, I believe, a piece of free-masonry, or a point of conscience, - among the Scottish lower orders, never to admit that a patient is doing - better. The closest approach to recovery which they can be brought to - allow, is, that the pairty inquired after is "Nae waur." - </p> - <p> - "Then he must be better—and what good is a dog and a gun to do here, - but the one to destroy all my furniture, steal from my larder, and perhaps - worry the cat, and the other to shoot somebody through the head. He has - had gunning and pistolling enough to serve him one while, I should think." - </p> - <p> - Here Miss Oldbuck entered the parlour, at the door of which Oldbuck was - carrying on this conversation, he bellowing downward to Jenny, and she - again screaming upward in reply. - </p> - <p> - "Dear brother," said the old lady, "ye'll cry yoursell as hoarse as a - corbie—is that the way to skreigh when there's a sick person in the - house?" - </p> - <p> - "Upon my word, the sick person's like to have all the house to himself,— - I have gone without my breakfast, and am like to go without my wig; and I - must not, I suppose, presume to say I feel either hunger or cold, for fear - of disturbing the sick gentleman who lies six rooms off, and who feels - himself well enough to send for his dog and gun, though he knows I detest - such implements ever since our elder brother, poor Williewald, marched out - of the world on a pair of damp feet, caught in the Kittlefitting-moss. But - that signifies nothing; I suppose I shall be expected by and by to lend a - hand to carry Squire Hector out upon his litter, while he indulges his - sportsmanlike propensities by shooting my pigeons, or my turkeys—I - think any of the <i>ferae naturae</i> are safe from him for one while." - </p> - <p> - Miss M'Intyre now entered, and began to her usual morning's task of - arranging her uncle's breakfast, with the alertness of one who is too late - in setting about a task, and is anxious to make up for lost time. But this - did not avail her. "Take care, you silly womankind—that mum's too - near the fire—the bottle will burst; and I suppose you intend to - reduce the toast to a cinder as a burnt-offering for Juno, or what do you - call her—the female dog there, with some such Pantheon kind of a - name, that your wise brother has, in his first moments of mature - reflection, ordered up as a fitting inmate of my house (I thank him), and - meet company to aid the rest of the womankind of my household in their - daily conversation and intercourse with him." - </p> - <p> - "Dear uncle, don't be angry about the poor spaniel; she's been tied up at - my brother's lodgings at Fairport, and she's broke her chain twice, and - came running down here to him; and you would not have us beat the faithful - beast away from the door?—it moans as if it had some sense of poor - Hector's misfortune, and will hardly stir from the door of his room." - </p> - <p> - "Why," said his uncle, "they said Caxon had gone to Fairport after his dog - and gun." - </p> - <p> - "O dear sir, no," answered Miss M'Intyre, "it was to fetch some dressings - that were wanted, and Hector only wished him to bring out his gun, as he - was going to Fairport at any rate." - </p> - <p> - "Well, then, it is not altogether so foolish a business, considering what - a mess of womankind have been about it—Dressings, quotha?—and - who is to dress my wig?—But I suppose Jenny will undertake"—continued - the old bachelor, looking at himself in the glass—"to make it - somewhat decent. And now let us set to breakfast—with what appetite - we may. Well may I say to Hector, as Sir Isaac Newton did to his dog - Diamond, when the animal (I detest dogs) flung down the taper among - calculations which had occupied the philosopher for twenty years, and - consumed the whole mass of materials—Diamond, Diamond, thou little - knowest the mischief thou hast done!" - </p> - <p> - "I assure you, sir," replied his niece, "my brother is quite sensible of - the rashness of his own behaviour, and allows that Mr. Lovel behaved very - handsomely." - </p> - <p> - "And much good that will do, when he has frightened the lad out of the - country! I tell thee, Mary, Hector's understanding, and far more that of - feminity, is inadequate to comprehend the extent of the loss which he has - occasioned to the present age and to posterity—<i>aureum quidem opus</i>—a - poem on such a subject, with notes illustrative of all that is clear, and - all that is dark, and all that is neither dark nor clear, but hovers in - dusky twilight in the region of Caledonian antiquities. I would have made - the Celtic panegyrists look about them. Fingal, as they conceitedly term - Fin-Mac-Coul, should have disappeared before my search, rolling himself in - his cloud like the spirit of Loda. Such an opportunity can hardly again - occur to an ancient and grey-haired man; and to see it lost by the madcap - spleen of a hot-headed boy! But I submit—Heaven's will be done!" - </p> - <p> - Thus continued the Antiquary to <i>maunder,</i> as his sister expressed - it, during the whole time of breakfast, while, despite of sugar and honey, - and all the comforts of a Scottish morning tea-table, his reflections - rendered the meal bitter to all who heard them. But they knew the nature - of the man. "Monkbarns's bark," said Miss Griselda Oldbuck, in - confidential intercourse with Miss Rebecca Blattergowl, "is muckle waur - than his bite." - </p> - <p> - In fact, Mr. Oldbuck had suffered in mind extremely while his nephew was - in actual danger, and now felt himself at liberty, upon his returning - health, to indulge in complaints respecting the trouble he had been put - to, and the interruption of his antiquarian labours. Listened to, - therefore, in respectful silence, by his niece and sister, he unloaded his - discontent in such grumblings as we have rehearsed, venting many a sarcasm - against womankind, soldiers, dogs, and guns, all which implements of - noise, discord, and tumult, as he called them, he professed to hold in - utter abomination. - </p> - <p> - This expectoration of spleen was suddenly interrupted by the noise of a - carriage without, when, shaking off all sullenness at the sound, Oldbuck - ran nimbly up stairs and down stairs, for both operations were necessary - ere he could receive Miss Wardour and her father at the door of his - mansion. - </p> - <p> - A cordial greeting passed on both sides. And Sir Arthur, referring to his - previous inquiries by letter and message, requested to be particularly - informed of Captain M'Intyre's health. - </p> - <p> - "Better than he deserves," was the answer—"better than he deserves, - for disturbing us with his vixen brawls, and breaking God's peace and the - King's." - </p> - <p> - "The young gentleman," Sir Arthur said, "had been imprudent; but he - understood they were indebted to him for the detection of a suspicious - character in the young man Lovel." - </p> - <p> - "No more suspicious than his own," answered the Antiquary, eager in his - favourites defence;—"the young gentleman was a little foolish and - headstrong, and refused to answer Hector's impertinent interrogatories— - that is all. Lovel, Sir Arthur, knows how to choose his confidants better—Ay, - Miss Wardour, you may look at me—but it is very true;—it was - in my bosom that he deposited the secret cause of his residence at - Fairport; and no stone should have been left unturned on my part to assist - him in the pursuit to which he had dedicated himself." - </p> - <p> - On hearing this magnanimous declaration on the part of the old Antiquary, - Miss Wardour changed colour more than once, and could hardly trust her own - ears. For of all confidants to be selected as the depositary of love - affairs,—and such she naturally supposed must have been the subject - of communication,—next to Edie Ochiltree, Oldbuck seemed the most - uncouth and extraordinary; nor could she sufficiently admire or fret at - the extraordinary combination of circumstances which thus threw a secret - of such a delicate nature into the possession of persons so unfitted to be - entrusted with it. She had next to fear the mode of Oldbuck's entering - upon the affair with her father, for such, she doubted not, was his - intention. She well knew that the honest gentleman, however vehement in - his prejudices, had no great sympathy with those of others, and she had to - fear a most unpleasant explosion upon an <i>e'claircissement</i> taking - place between them. It was therefore with great anxiety that she heard her - father request a private interview, and observed Oldbuck readily arise and - show the way to his library. She remained behind, attempting to converse - with the ladies of Monkbarns, but with the distracted feelings of Macbeth, - when compelled to disguise his evil conscience by listening and replying - to the observations of the attendant thanes upon the storm of the - preceding night, while his whole soul is upon the stretch to listen for - the alarm of murder, which he knows must be instantly raised by those who - have entered the sleeping apartment of Duncan. But the conversation of the - two virtuosi turned on a subject very different from that which Miss - Wardour apprehended. - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, when they had, after a due exchange of - ceremonies, fairly seated themselves in the <i>sanctum sanctorum</i> of - the Antiquary,—"you, who know so much of my family matters, may - probably be surprised at the question I am about to put to you." - </p> - <p> - "Why, Sir Arthur, if it relates to money, I am very sorry, but"— - </p> - <p> - "It does relate to money matters, Mr. Oldbuck." - </p> - <p> - "Really, then, Sir Arthur," continued the Antiquary, "in the present state - of the money-market—and stocks being so low"— - </p> - <p> - "You mistake my meaning, Mr. Oldbuck," said the Baronet; "I wished to ask - your advice about laying out a large sum of money to advantage." - </p> - <p> - "The devil!" exclaimed the Antiquary; and, sensible that his involuntary - ejaculation of wonder was not over and above civil, he proceeded to - qualify it by expressing his joy that Sir Arthur should have a sum of - money to lay out when the commodity was so scarce. "And as for the mode of - employing it," said he, pausing, "the funds are low at present, as I said - before, and there are good bargains of land to be had. But had you not - better begin by clearing off encumbrances, Sir Arthur?—There is the - sum in the personal bond—and the three notes of hand," continued he, - taking out of the right-hand drawer of his cabinet a certain red - memorandum-book, of which Sir Arthur, from the experience of former - frequent appeals to it, abhorred the very sight—"with the interest - thereon, amounting altogether to—let me see"— - </p> - <p> - "To about a thousand pounds," said Sir Arthur, hastily; "you told me the - amount the other day." - </p> - <p> - "But there's another term's interest due since that, Sir Arthur, and it - amounts (errors excepted) to eleven hundred and thirteen pounds, seven - shillings, five pennies, and three-fourths of a penny sterling—But - look over the summation yourself." - </p> - <p> - "I daresay you are quite right, my dear sir," said the Baronet, putting - away the book with his hand, as one rejects the old-fashioned civility - that presses food upon you after you have eaten till you nauseate— - "perfectly right, I dare say; and in the course of three days or less you - shall have the full value—that is, if you choose to accept it in - bullion." - </p> - <p> - "Bullion! I suppose you mean lead. What the deuce! have we hit on the vein - then at last? But what could I do with a thousand pounds' worth, and - upwards, of lead? The former abbots of Trotcosey might have roofed their - church and monastery with it indeed—but for me"— - </p> - <p> - "By bullion," said the Baronet, "I mean the precious metals,—gold - and silver." - </p> - <p> - "Ay! indeed?—and from what Eldorado is this treasure to be - imported?" - </p> - <p> - "Not far from hence," said Sir Arthur, significantly. "And naow I think of - it, you shall see the whole process, on one small condition." - </p> - <p> - "And what is that?" craved the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Why, it will be necessary for you to give me your friendly assistance, by - advancing one hundred pounds or thereabouts." - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck, who had already been grasping in idea the sum, principal and - interest, of a debt which he had long regarded as wellnigh desperate, was - so much astounded at the tables being so unexpectedly turned upon him, - that he could only re-echo, in an accent of wo and surprise, the words, - "Advance one hundred pounds!" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, my good sir," continued Sir Arthur; "but upon the best possible - security of being repaid in the course of two or three days." - </p> - <p> - There was a pause—either Oldbuck's nether jaw had not recovered its - position, so as to enable him to utter a negative, or his curiosity kept - him silent. - </p> - <p> - "I would not propose to you," continued Sir Arthur, "to oblige me thus - far, if I did not possess actual proofs of the reality of those - expectations which I now hold out to you. And I assure you, Mr. Oldbuck, - that in entering fully upon this topic, it is my purpose to show my - confidence in you, and my sense of your kindness on many former - occasions." - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck professed his sense of obligation, but carefully avoided - committing himself by any promise of farther assistance. - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Dousterswivel," said Sir Arthur, "having discovered"— - </p> - <p> - Here Oldbuck broke in, his eyes sparkling with indignation. "Sir Arthur, I - have so often warned you of the knavery of that rascally quack, that I - really wonder you should quote him to me." - </p> - <p> - "But listen—listen," interrupted Sir Arthur in his turn, "it will do - you no harm. In short, Dousterswivel persuaded me to witness an experiment - which he had made in the ruins of St. Ruth—and what do you think we - found?" - </p> - <p> - "Another spring of water, I suppose, of which the rogue had beforehand - taken care to ascertain the situation and source." - </p> - <p> - "No, indeed—a casket of gold and silver coins—here they are." - </p> - <p> - With that, Sir Arthur drew from his pocket a large ram's horn, with a - copper cover, containing a considerable quantity of coins, chiefly silver, - but with a few gold pieces intermixed. The Antiquary's eyes glistened as - he eagerly spread them out on the table. - </p> - <p> - "Upon my word—Scotch, English, and foreign coins, of the fifteenth - and sixteenth centuries, and some of them <i>rari—et rariores—etiam - rarissimi!</i> Here is the bonnet-piece of James V., the unicorn of James - II.,—ay, and the gold festoon of Queen Mary, with her head and the - Dauphin's. And these were really found in the ruins of St. Ruth?" - </p> - <p> - "Most assuredly—my own eyes witnessed it." - </p> - <p> - "Well," replied Oldbuck; "but you must tell me the when—the - where-the how." - </p> - <p> - "The when," answered Sir Arthur, "was at midnight the last full moon—the - where, as I have told you, in the ruins of St. Ruth's priory—the - how, was by a nocturnal experiment of Dousterswivel, accompanied only by - myself." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed!" said Oldbuck; "and what means of discovery did you employ?" - </p> - <p> - "Only a simple suffumigation," said the Baronet, "accompanied by availing - ourselves of the suitable planetary hour." - </p> - <p> - "Simple suffumigation? simple nonsensification—planetary hour? - planetary fiddlestick! <i>Sapiens dominabitur astris.</i> My dear Sir - Arthur, that fellow has made a gull of you above ground and under ground, - and he would have made a gull of you in the air too, if he had been by - when you was craned up the devil's turnpike yonder at Halket-head—to - be sure the transformation would have been then peculiarly <i>apropos.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Well, Mr. Oldbuck, I am obliged to you for your indifferent opinion of my - discernment; but I think you will give me credit for having seen what I <i>say</i> - I saw." - </p> - <p> - "Certainly, Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary,—"to this extent at - least, that I know Sir Arthur Wardour will not say he saw anything but - what he <i>thought</i> he saw." - </p> - <p> - "Well, then," replied the Baronet, "as there is a heaven above us, Mr. - Oldbuck, I saw, with my own eyes, these coins dug out of the chancel of - St. Ruth at midnight. And as to Dousterswivel, although the discovery be - owing to his science, yet, to tell the truth, I do not think he would have - had firmness of mind to have gone through with it if I had not been beside - him." - </p> - <p> - "Ay! indeed?" said Oldbuck, in the tone used when one wishes to hear the - end of a story before making any comment. - </p> - <p> - "Yes truly," continued Sir Arthur—"I assure you I was upon my guard—we - did hear some very uncommon sounds, that is certain, proceeding from among - the ruins." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, you did?" said Oldbuck; "an accomplice hid among them, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "Not a jot," said the Baronet;—"the sounds, though of a hideous and - preternatural character, rather resembled those of a man who sneezes - violently than any other—one deep groan I certainly heard besides; - and Dousterswivel assures me that he beheld the spirit Peolphan, the Great - Hunter of the North—(look for him in your Nicolaus Remigius, or - Petrus Thyracus, Mr. Oldbuck)—who mimicked the motion of - snuff-taking and its effects." - </p> - <p> - "These indications, however singular as proceeding from such a personage, - seem to have been <i>apropos</i> to the matter," said the Antiquary; "for - you see the case, which includes these coins, has all the appearance of - being an old-fashioned Scottish snuff-mill. But you persevered, in spite - of the terrors of this sneezing goblin?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, I think it probable that a man of inferior sense or consequence - might have given way; but I was jealous of an imposture, conscious of the - duty I owed to my family in maintaining my courage under every - contingency, and therefore I compelled Dousterswivel, by actual and - violent threats, to proceed with what he was about to do;—and, sir, - the proof of his skill and honesty is this parcel of gold and silver - pieces, out of which I beg you to select such coins or medals as will best - suit your collection." - </p> - <p> - "Why, Sir Arthur, since you are so good, and on condition you will permit - me to mark the value according to Pinkerton's catalogue and appreciation, - against your account in my red book, I will with pleasure select"— - </p> - <p> - "Nay," said Sir Arthur Wardour, "I do not mean you should consider them as - anything but a gift of friendship and least of all would I stand by the - valuation of your friend Pinkerton, who has impugned the ancient and - trustworthy authorities upon which, as upon venerable and moss-grown - pillars, the credit of Scottish antiquities reposed." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay," rejoined Oldbuck, "you mean, I suppose, Mair and Boece, the - Jachin and Boaz, not of history but of falsification and forgery. And - notwithstanding all you have told me, I look on your friend Dousterswivel - to be as apocryphal as any of them." - </p> - <p> - "Why then, Mr. Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, "not to awaken old disputes, I - suppose you think, that because I believe in the ancient history of my - country, I have neither eyes nor ears to ascertain what modern events pass - before me?" - </p> - <p> - "Pardon me, Sir Arthur," rejoined the Antiquary; "but I consider all the - affectation of terror which this worthy gentleman, your coadjutor, chose - to play off, as being merely one part of his trick or mystery. And with - respect to the gold or silver coins, they are so mixed and mingled in - country and date, that I cannot suppose they could be any genuine hoard, - and rather suppose them to be, like the purses upon the table of - Hudibras's lawyer— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —Money placed for show, - Like nest-eggs, to make clients lay, - And for his false opinions pay.— -</pre> - <p> - It is the trick of all professions, my dear Sir Arthur. Pray, may I ask - you how much this discovery cost you?" - </p> - <p> - "About ten guineas." - </p> - <p> - "And you have gained what is equivalent to twenty in actual bullion, and - what may be perhaps worth as much more to such fools as ourselves, who are - willing to pay for curiosity. This was allowing you a tempting profit on - the first hazard, I must needs admit. And what is the next venture he - proposes?" - </p> - <p> - "An hundred and fifty pounds;—I have given him one-third part of the - money, and I thought it likely you might assist me with the balance." - </p> - <p> - "I should think that this cannot be meant as a parting blow—is not - of weight and importance sufficient; he will probably let us win this hand - also, as sharpers manage a raw gamester.—Sir Arthur, I hope you - believe I would serve you?" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly, Mr. Oldbuck; I think my confidence in you on these occasions - leaves no room to doubt that." - </p> - <p> - "Well, then, allow me to speak to Dousterswivel. If the money can be - advanced usefully and advantageously for you, why, for old neighbourhood's - sake, you shall not want it but if, as I think, I can recover the treasure - for you without making such an advance, you will, I presume, have no - objection!" - </p> - <p> - "Unquestionably, I can have none whatsoever." - </p> - <p> - "Then where is Dousterswivel?" continued the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "To tell you the truth, he is in my carriage below; but knowing your - prejudice against him"— - </p> - <p> - "I thank Heaven, I am not prejudiced against any man, Sir Arthur: it is - systems, not individuals, that incur my reprobation." He rang the bell. - "Jenny, Sir Arthur and I offer our compliments to Mr. Dousterswivel, the - gentleman in Sir Arthur's carriage, and beg to have the pleasure of - speaking with him here." - </p> - <p> - Jenny departed and delivered her message. It had been by no means a part - of the project of Dousterswivel to let Mr. Oldbuck into his supposed - mystery. He had relied upon Sir Arthur's obtaining the necessary - accommodation without any discussion as to the nature of the application, - and only waited below for the purpose of possessing himself of the deposit - as soon as possible, for he foresaw that his career was drawing to a - close. But when summoned to the presence of Sir Arthur and Mr. Oldbuck, he - resolved gallantly to put confidence in his powers of impudence, of which, - the reader may have observed, his natural share was very liberal. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0002" id="Alink2HCH0002"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SECOND. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —And this Doctor, - Your sooty smoky-bearded compeer, he - Will close you so much gold in a bolt's head, - And, on a turn, convey in the stead another - With sublimed mercury, that shall burst i' the heat, - And all fly out <i>in fumo.</i>— - The Alchemist. -</pre> - <p> - "How do you do, goot Mr. Oldenbuck? and I do hope your young gentleman, - Captain M'Intyre, is getting better again? Ach! it is a bat business when - young gentlemens will put lead balls into each other's body." - </p> - <p> - "Lead adventures of all kinds are very precarious, Mr. Dousterswivel; but - I am happy to learn," continued the Antiquary, "from my friend Sir Arthur, - that you have taken up a better trade, and become a discoverer of gold." - </p> - <p> - "Ach, Mr. Oldenbuck, mine goot and honoured patron should not have told a - word about dat little matter; for, though I have all reliance—yes, - indeed, on goot Mr. Oldenbuck's prudence and discretion, and his great - friendship for Sir Arthur Wardour—yet, my heavens! it is an great - ponderous secret." - </p> - <p> - "More ponderous than any of the metal we shall make by it, I fear," - answered Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Dat is just as you shall have de faith and de patience for de grand - experiment—If you join wid Sir Arthur, as he is put one hundred and - fifty—see, here is one fifty in your dirty Fairport bank-note—you - put one other hundred and fifty in de dirty notes, and you shall have de - pure gold and silver, I cannot tell how much." - </p> - <p> - "Nor any one for you, I believe," said the Antiquary. "But, hark you, Mr. - Dousterswivel: Suppose, without troubling this same sneezing spirit with - any farther fumigations, we should go in a body, and having fair day-light - and our good consciences to befriend us, using no other conjuring - implements than good substantial pick-axes and shovels, fairly trench the - area of the chancel in the ruins of St. Ruth, from one end to the other, - and so ascertain the existence of this supposed treasure, without putting - ourselves to any farther expense—the ruins belong to Sir Arthur - himself, so there can be no objection—do you think we shall succeed - in this way of managing the matter?" - </p> - <p> - "Bah!—you will not find one copper thimble—But Sir Arthur will - do his pleasure. I have showed him how it is possible—very possible—to - have de great sum of money for his occasions—I have showed him de - real experiment. If he likes not to believe, goot Mr. Oldenbuck, it is - nothing to Herman Dousterswivel—he only loses de money and de gold - and de silvers—dat is all." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur Wardour cast an intimidated glance at Oldbuck who, especially - when present, held, notwithstanding their frequent difference of opinion, - no ordinary influence over his sentiments. In truth, the Baronet felt, - what he would not willingly have acknowledged, that his genius stood - rebuked before that of the Antiquary. He respected him as a shrewd, - penetrating, sarcastic character—feared his satire, and had some - confidence in the general soundness of his opinions. He therefore looked - at him as if desiring his leave before indulging his credulity. - Dousterswivel saw he was in danger of losing his dupe, unless he could - make some favourable impression on the adviser. - </p> - <p> - "I know, my goot Mr. Oldenbuck, it is one vanity to speak to you about de - spirit and de goblin. But look at this curious horn;—I know, you - know de curiosity of all de countries, and how de great Oldenburgh horn, - as they keep still in the Museum at Copenhagen, was given to de Duke of - Oldenburgh by one female spirit of de wood. Now I could not put one trick - on you if I were willing—you who know all de curiosity so well—and - dere it is de horn full of coins;—if it had been a box or case, I - would have said nothing." - </p> - <p> - "Being a horn," said Oldbuck, "does indeed strengthen your argument. It - was an implement of nature's fashioning, and therefore much used among - rude nations, although, it may be, the metaphorical horn is more frequent - in proportion to the progress of civilisation. And this present horn," he - continued, rubbing it upon his sleeve, "is a curious and venerable relic, - and no doubt was intended to prove a <i>cornucopia,</i> or horn of plenty, - to some one or other; but whether to the adept or his patron, may be - justly doubted." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Mr. Oldenbuck, I find you still hard of belief—but let me - assure you, de monksh understood de <i>magisterium.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Let us leave talking of the <i>magisterium,</i> Mr. Dousterswivel, and - think a little about the magistrate. Are you aware that this occupation of - yours is against the law of Scotland, and that both Sir Arthur and myself - are in the commission of the peace?" - </p> - <p> - "Mine heaven! and what is dat to de purpose when I am doing you all de - goot I can?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, you must know that when the legislature abolished the cruel laws - against witchcraft, they had no hope of destroying the superstitious - feelings of humanity on which such chimeras had been founded; and to - prevent those feelings from being tampered with by artful and designing - persons, it is enacted by the ninth of George the Second, chap. 5, that - whosoever shall pretend, by his alleged skill in any occult or crafty - science, to discover such goods as are lost, stolen or concealed, he shall - suffer punishment by pillory and imprisonment, as a common cheat and - impostor." - </p> - <p> - "And is dat de laws?" asked Dousterswivel, with some agitation. - </p> - <p> - "Thyself shall see the act," replied the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Den, gentlemens, I shall take my leave of you, dat is all; I do not like - to stand on your what you call pillory—it is very bad way to take de - air, I think; and I do not like your prisons no more, where one cannot - take de air at all." - </p> - <p> - "If such be your taste, Mr. Dousterswivel," said the Antiquary, "I advise - you to stay where you are, for I cannot let you go, unless it be in the - society of a constable; and, moreover, I expect you will attend us just - now to the ruins of St. Ruth, and point out the place where you propose to - find this treasure." - </p> - <p> - "Mine heaven, Mr. Oldenbuck! what usage is this to your old friend, when I - tell you so plain as I can speak, dat if you go now, you will not get so - much treasure as one poor shabby sixpence?" - </p> - <p> - "I will try the experiment, however, and you shall be dealt with according - to its success,—always with Sir Arthur's permission." - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -Sir Arthur, during this investigation, had looked extremely embarrassed, -and, to use a vulgar but expressive phrase, chop-fallen. Oldbuck's -obstinate disbelief led him strongly to suspect the imposture of -Dousterswivel, and the adept's mode of keeping his ground was less -resolute than he had expected. Yet he did not entirely give him up. - - "Mr. Oldbuck," said the Baronet, "you do Mr. Dousterswivel less than -justice. He has undertaken to make this discovery by the use of his art, -and by applying characters descriptive of the Intelligences presiding -over the planetary hour in which the experiment is to be made; and you -require him to proceed, under pain of punishment, without allowing him -the use of any of the preliminaries which he considers as the means of -procuring success." -</pre> - <p> - "I did not say that exactly—I only required him to be present when - we make the search, and not to leave us during the interval. I fear he may - have some intelligence with the Intelligences you talk of, and that - whatever may be now hidden at Saint Ruth may disappear before we get - there." - </p> - <p> - "Well, gentlemens," said Dousterswivel, sullenly, "I will make no - objections to go along with you but I tell you beforehand, you shall not - find so much of anything as shall be worth your going twenty yard from - your own gate." - </p> - <p> - "We will put that to a fair trial," said the Antiquary; and the Baronet's - equipage being ordered, Miss Wardour received an intimation from her - father, that she was to remain at Monkbarns until his return from an - airing. The young lady was somewhat at a loss to reconcile this direction - with the communication which she supposed must have passed between Sir - Arthur and the Antiquary; but she was compelled, for the present, to - remain in a most unpleasant state of suspense. - </p> - <p> - The journey of the treasure-seekers was melancholy enough. Dousterswivel - maintained a sulky silence, brooding at once over disappointed expectation - and the risk of punishment; Sir Arthur, whose golden dreams had been - gradually fading away, surveyed, in gloomy prospect, the impending - difficulties of his situation; and Oldbuck, who perceived that his having - so far interfered in his neighbours affairs gave the Baronet a right to - expect some actual and efficient assistance, sadly pondered to what extent - it would be necessary to draw open the strings of his purse. Thus each - being wrapped in his own unpleasant ruminations, there was hardly a word - said on either side, until they reached the Four Horse-shoes, by which - sign the little inn was distinguished. They procured at this place the - necessary assistance and implements for digging, and, while they were busy - about these preparations, were suddenly joined by the old beggar, Edie - Ochiltree. - </p> - <p> - "The Lord bless your honour," began the Blue-Gown, with the genuine - mendicant whine, "and long life to you!—weel pleased am I to hear - that young Captain M'Intyre is like to be on his legs again sune—Think - on your poor bedesman the day." - </p> - <p> - "Aha, old true-penny!" replied the Antiquary. "Why, thou hast never come - to Monkbarns since thy perils by rock and flood—here's something for - thee to buy snuff,"—and, fumbling for his purse, he pulled out at - the same time the horn which enclosed the coins. - </p> - <p> - "Ay, and there's something to pit it in," said the mendicant, eyeing the - ram's horn—"that loom's an auld acquaintance o' mine. I could take - my aith to that sneeshing-mull amang a thousand—I carried it for - mony a year, till I niffered it for this tin ane wi' auld George Glen, the - dammer and sinker, when he took a fancy till't doun at Glen-Withershins - yonder." - </p> - <p> - "Ay! indeed?" said Oldbuck;—"so you exchanged it with a miner? but I - presume you never saw it so well filled before"—and opening it, he - showed the coins. - </p> - <p> - "Troth, ye may swear that, Monkbarns: when it was mine it neer had abune - the like o' saxpenny worth o' black rappee in't at ance. But I reckon - ye'll be gaun to mak an antic o't, as ye hae dune wi' mony an orra thing - besides. Od, I wish anybody wad mak an antic o' me; but mony ane will find - worth in rousted bits o' capper and horn and airn, that care unco little - about an auld carle o' their ain country and kind." - </p> - <p> - "You may now guess," said Oldbuck, turning to Sir Arthur, "to whose good - offices you were indebted the other night. To trace this cornucopia of - yours to a miner, is bringing it pretty near a friend of ours—I hope - we shall be as successful this morning, without paying for it." - </p> - <p> - "And whare is your honours gaun the day," said the mendicant, "wi' a' your - picks and shules?—Od, this will be some o' your tricks, Monkbarns: - ye'll be for whirling some o' the auld monks down by yonder out o' their - graves afore they hear the last call—but, wi' your leave, I'se - follow ye at ony rate, and see what ye mak o't." - </p> - <p> - The party soon arrived at the ruins of the priory, and, having gained the - chancel, stood still to consider what course they were to pursue next. The - Antiquary, meantime, addressed the adept. - </p> - <p> - "Pray, Mr. Dousterswivel, what is your advice in this matter? Shall we - have most likelihood of success if we dig from east to west, or from west - to east?—or will you assist us with your triangular vial of May-dew, - or with your divining-rod of witches-hazel?—or will you have the - goodness to supply us with a few thumping blustering terms of art, which, - if they fail in our present service, may at least be useful to those who - have not the happiness to be bachelors, to still their brawling children - withal?" - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Oldenbuck," said Dousterswivel, doggedly, "I have told you already - that you will make no good work at all, and I will find some way of mine - own to thank you for your civilities to me—yes, indeed." - </p> - <p> - "If your honours are thinking of tirling the floor," said old Edie, "and - wad but take a puir body's advice, I would begin below that muckle stane - that has the man there streekit out upon his back in the midst o't." - </p> - <p> - "I have some reason for thinking favourably of that plan myself," said the - Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "And I have nothing to say against it," said Oldbuck: "it was not unusual - to hide treasure in the tombs of the deceased—many instances might - be quoted of that from Bartholinus and others." - </p> - <p> - The tombstone, the same beneath which the coins had been found by Sir - Arthur and the German, was once more forced aside, and the earth gave easy - way to the spade. - </p> - <p> - "It's travell'd earth that," said Edie, "it howks gae eithly—I ken - it weel, for ance I wrought a simmer wi' auld Will Winnet, the bedral, and - howkit mair graves than ane in my day; but I left him in winter, for it - was unco cald wark; and then it cam a green Yule, and the folk died thick - and fast—for ye ken a green Yule makes a fat kirkyard; and I never - dowed to bide a hard turn o' wark in my life—sae aff I gaed, and - left Will to delve his last dwellings by himsell for Edie." - </p> - <p> - The diggers were now so far advanced in their labours as to discover that - the sides of the grave which they were clearing out had been originally - secured by four walls of freestone, forming a parallelogram, for the - reception, probably, of the coffin. - </p> - <p> - "It is worth while proceeding in our labours," said the Antiquary to Sir - Arthur, "were it but for curiosity's sake. I wonder on whose sepulchre - they have bestowed such uncommon pains." - </p> - <p> - "The arms on the shield," said Sir Arthur, and sighed as he spoke it, "are - the same with those on Misticot's tower, supposed to have been built by - Malcolm the usurper. No man knew where he was buried, and there is an old - prophecy in our family, that bodes us no good when his grave shall be - discovered." - </p> - <p> - "I wot," said the beggar, "I have often heard that when I was a bairn— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - If Malcolm the Misticot's grave were fun', - The lands of Knockwinnock were lost and won." -</pre> - <p> - Oldbuck, with his spectacles on his nose, had already knelt down on the - monument, and was tracing, partly with his eye, partly with his finger, - the mouldered devices upon the effigy of the deceased warrior. "It is the - Knockwinnock arms, sure enough," he exclaimed, "quarterly with the coat of - Wardour." - </p> - <p> - "Richard, called the red-handed Wardour, married Sybil Knockwinnock, the - heiress of the Saxon family, and by that alliance," said Sir Arthur, - "brought the castle and estate into the name of Wardour, in the year of - God 1150." - </p> - <p> - "Very true, Sir Arthur; and here is the baton-sinister, the mark of - illegitimacy, extended diagonally through both coats upon the shield. - Where can our eyes have been, that they did not see this curious monument - before?" - </p> - <p> - "Na, whare was the through-stane, that it didna come before our een till - e'enow?" said Ochiltree; "for I hae ken'd this auld kirk, man and bairn, - for saxty lang years, and I neer noticed it afore; and it's nae sic mote - neither, but what ane might see it in their parritch." - </p> - <p> - All were now induced to tax their memory as to the former state of the - ruins in that corner of the chancel, and all agreed in recollecting a - considerable pile of rubbish which must have been removed and spread - abroad in order to make the tomb visible. Sir Arthur might, indeed, have - remembered seeing the monument on the former occasion, but his mind was - too much agitated to attend to the circumstance as a novelty. - </p> - <p> - While the assistants were engaged in these recollections and discussions, - the workmen proceeded with their labour. They had already dug to the depth - of nearly five feet, and as the flinging out the soil became more and more - difficult, they began at length to tire of the job. - </p> - <p> - "We're down to the till now," said one of them, "and the neer a coffin or - onything else is here—some cunninger chiel's been afore us, I - reckon;"—and the labourer scrambled out of the grave. - </p> - <p> - "Hout, lad," said Edie, getting down in his room—"let me try my hand - for an auld bedral;—ye're gude seekers, but ill finders." - </p> - <p> - So soon as he got into the grave, he struck his pike-staff forcibly down; - it encountered resistance in its descent, and the beggar exclaimed, like a - Scotch schoolboy when he finds anything, "Nae halvers and quarters—hale - o' mine ain and 'nane o' my neighbour's." - </p> - <p> - Everybody, from the dejected Baronet to the sullen adept, now caught the - spirit of curiosity, crowded round the grave, and would have jumped into - it, could its space have contained them. The labourers, who had begun to - flag in their monotonous and apparently hopeless task, now resumed their - tools, and plied them with all the ardour of expectation. Their shovels - soon grated upon a hard wooden surface, which, as the earth was cleared - away, assumed the distinct form of a chest, but greatly smaller than that - of a coffin. Now all hands were at work to heave it out of the grave, and - all voices, as it was raised, proclaimed its weight and augured its value. - They were not mistaken. - </p> - <p> - When the chest or box was placed on the surface, and the lid forced up by - a pickaxe, there was displayed first a coarse canvas cover, then a - quantity of oakum, and beneath that a number of ingots of silver. A - general exclamation hailed a discovery so surprising and unexpected. The - Baronet threw his hands and eyes up to heaven, with the silent rapture of - one who is delivered from inexpressible distress of mind. Oldbuck, almost - unable to credit his eyes, lifted one piece of silver after another. There - was neither inscription nor stamp upon them, excepting one, which seemed - to be Spanish. He could have no doubt of the purity and great value of the - treasure before him. Still, however, removing piece by piece, he examined - row by row, expecting to discover that the lower layers were of inferior - value; but he could perceive no difference in this respect, and found - himself compelled to admit, that Sir Arthur had possessed himself of - bullion to the value, perhaps of a thousand pounds sterling. Sir Arthur - now promised the assistants a handsome recompense for their trouble, and - began to busy himself about the mode of conveying this rich windfall to - the Castle of Knockwinnock, when the adept, recovering from his surprise, - which had equalled that exhibited by any other individual of the party, - twitched his sleeve, and having offered his humble congratulations, turned - next to Oldbuck with an air of triumph. - </p> - <p> - "I did tell you, my goot friend, Mr. Oldenbuck, dat I was to seek - opportunity to thank you for your civility; now do you not think I have - found out vary goot way to return thank?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, Mr. Dousterswivel, do you pretend to have had any hand in our good - success?—you forget you refused us all aid of your science, man; and - you are here without your weapons that should have fought the battle which - you pretend to have gained in our behalf: you have used neither charm, - lamen, sigil, talisman, spell, crystal, pentacle, magic mirror, nor - geomantic figure. Where be your periapts, and your abracadabras man? your - Mayfern, your vervain, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther, - Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop, - Your Lato, Azoch, Zernich, Chibrit, Heautarit, - With all your broths, your menstrues, your materials, - Would burst a man to name?— -</pre> - <p> - Ah! rare Ben Jonson! long peace to thy ashes for a scourge of the quacks - of thy day!—who expected to see them revive in our own?" - </p> - <p> - The answer of the adept to the Antiquary's tirade we must defer to our - next CHAPTER. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0003" id="Alink2HCH0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER THIRD. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - <i>Clause.</i>—You now shall know the king o' the beggars' treasure:— - Yes—ere to-morrow you shall find your harbour - Here,—fail me not, for if I live I'll fit you. - The Beggar's Bush. -</pre> - <p> - The German, determined, it would seem, to assert the vantage-ground on - which the discovery had placed him, replied with great pomp and - stateliness to the attack of the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Maister Oldenbuck, all dis may be very witty and comedy, but I have - nothing to say—nothing at all—to people dat will not believe - deir own eye-sights. It is vary true dat I ave not any of de things of de - art, and it makes de more wonder what I has done dis day. But I would ask - of you, mine honoured and goot and generous patron, to put your hand into - your right-hand waistcoat pocket, and show me what you shall find dere." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur obeyed his direction, and pulled out the small plate of silver - which he had used under the adept's auspices upon the former occasion. "It - is very true," said Sir Arthur, looking gravely at the Antiquary; "this is - the graduated and calculated sigil by which Mr. Dousterswivel and I - regulated our first discovery." - </p> - <p> - "Pshaw! pshaw! my dear friend," said Oldbuck, "you are too wise to believe - in the influence of a trumpery crown-piece, beat out thin, and a parcel of - scratches upon it. I tell thee, Sir Arthur, that if Dousterswivel had - known where to get this treasure himself, you would not have been lord of - the least share of it." - </p> - <p> - "In troth, please your honour," said Edie, who put in his word on all - occasions, "I think, since Mr. Dunkerswivel has had sae muckle merit in - discovering a' the gear, the least ye can do is to gie him that o't that's - left behind for his labour; for doubtless he that kend where to find sae - muckle will hae nae difficulty to find mair." - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel's brow grew very dark at this proposal of leaving him to his - "ain purchase," as Ochiltree expressed it; but the beggar, drawing him - aside, whispered a word or two in his ear, to which he seemed to give - serious attention, - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Sir Arthur, his heart warm with his good fortune, said aloud, - "Never mind our friend Monkbarns, Mr. Dousterswivel, but come to the - Castle to-morrow, and I'll convince you that I am not ungrateful for the - hints you have given me about this matter—and the fifty Fairport - dirty notes, as you call them, are heartily at your service. Come, my - lads, get the cover of this precious chest fastened up again." - </p> - <p> - But the cover had in the confusion fallen aside among the rubbish, or the - loose earth which had been removed from the grave—in short, it was - not to be seen. - </p> - <p> - "Never mind, my good lads, tie the tarpaulin over it, and get it away to - the carriage.—Monkbarns, will you walk? I must go back your way to - take up Miss Wardour." - </p> - <p> - "And, I hope, to take up your dinner also, Sir Arthur, and drink a glass - of wine for joy of our happy adventure. Besides, you should write about - the business to the Exchequer, in case of any interference on the part of - the Crown. As you are lord of the manor, it will be easy to get a deed of - gift, should they make any claim. We must talk about it, though." - </p> - <p> - "And I particularly recommend silence to all who are present," said Sir - Arthur, looking round. All bowed and professed themselves dumb. - </p> - <p> - "Why, as to that," said Monkbarns, "recommending secrecy where a dozen of - people are acquainted with the circumstance to be concealed, is only - putting the truth in masquerade, for the story will be circulated under - twenty different shapes. But never mind—we will state the true one - to the Barons, and that is all that is necessary." - </p> - <p> - "I incline to send off an express to-night," said the Baronet. - </p> - <p> - "I can recommend your honour to a sure hand," said Ochiltree; "little - Davie Mailsetter, and the butcher's reisting powny." - </p> - <p> - "We will talk over the matter as we go to Monkbarns," said Sir Arthur. "My - lads" (to the work-people), "come with me to the Four Horse-shoes, that I - may take down all your names.—Dousterswivel, I won't ask you to go - down to Monkbarns, as the laird and you differ so widely in opinion; but - do not fail to come to see me to-morrow." - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel growled out an answer, in which the words, "duty,"—"mine - honoured patron,"—and "wait upon Sir Arthurs,"—were alone - distinguishable; and after the Baronet and his friend had left the ruins, - followed by the servants and workmen, who, in hope of reward and whisky, - joyfully attended their leader, the adept remained in a brown study by the - side of the open grave. - </p> - <p> - "Who was it as could have thought this?" he ejaculated unconsciously. - "Mine heiligkeit! I have heard of such things, and often spoken of such - things—but, sapperment! I never, thought to see them! And if I had - gone but two or dree feet deeper down in the earth—mein himmel! it - had been all mine own—so much more as I have been muddling about to - get from this fool's man." - </p> - <p> - Here the German ceased his soliloquy, for, raising his eyes, he - encountered those of Edie Ochiltree, who had not followed the rest of the - company, but, resting as usual on his pike-staff, had planted himself on - the other side of the grave. The features of the old man, naturally shrewd - and expressive almost to an appearance of knavery, seemed in this instance - so keenly knowing, that even the assurance of Dousterswivel, though a - professed adventurer, sunk beneath their glances. But he saw the necessity - of an e'claircissement, and, rallying his spirits, instantly began to - sound the mendicant on the occurrences of the day. "Goot Maister Edies - Ochiltrees"— - </p> - <p> - "Edie Ochiltree, nae maister—your puir bedesman and the king's," - answered the Blue-Gown. - </p> - <p> - "Awell den, goot Edie, what do you think of all dis?" - </p> - <p> - "I was just thinking it was very kind (for I darena say very simple) o' - your honour to gie thae twa rich gentles, wha hae lands and lairdships, - and siller without end, this grand pose o' silver and treasure (three - times tried in the fire, as the Scripture expresses it), that might hae - made yoursell and ony twa or three honest bodies beside, as happy and - content as the day was lang." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, Edie, mine honest friends, dat is very true; only I did not know, - dat is, I was not sure, where to find the gelt myself." - </p> - <p> - "What! was it not by your honours advice and counsel that Monkbarns and - the Knight of Knockwinnock came here then?" - </p> - <p> - "Aha—yes; but it was by another circumstance. I did not know dat dey - would have found de treasure, mine friend; though I did guess, by such a - tintamarre, and cough, and sneeze, and groan, among de spirit one other - night here, dat there might be treasure and bullion hereabout. Ach, mein - himmel! the spirit will hone and groan over his gelt, as if he were a - Dutch Burgomaster counting his dollars after a great dinner at the - Stadthaus." - </p> - <p> - "And do you really believe the like o' that, Mr. Dusterdeevil!—a - skeelfu' man like you—hout fie!" - </p> - <p> - "Mein friend," answered the adept, foreed by circumstances to speak - something nearer the truth than he generally used to do, "I believed it no - more than you and no man at all, till I did hear them hone and moan and - groan myself on de oder night, and till I did this day see de cause, which - was an great chest all full of de pure silver from Mexico—and what - would you ave nae think den?" - </p> - <p> - "And what wad ye gie to ony ane," said Edie, "that wad help ye to sic - another kistfu' o' silver!" - </p> - <p> - "Give?—mein himmel!—one great big quarter of it." - </p> - <p> - "Now if the secret were mine," said the mendicant, "I wad stand out for a - half; for you see, though I am but a puir ragged body, and couldna carry - silver or gowd to sell for fear o' being taen up, yet I could find mony - folk would pass it awa for me at unco muckle easier profit than ye're - thinking on." - </p> - <p> - "Ach, himmel!—Mein goot friend, what was it I said?—I did mean - to say you should have de tree quarter for your half, and de one quarter - to be my fair half." - </p> - <p> - "No, no, Mr. Dusterdeevil, we will divide equally what we find, like - brother and brother. Now, look at this board that I just flung into the - dark aisle out o' the way, while Monkbarns was glowering ower a' the - silver yonder. He's a sharp chiel Monkbarns—I was glad to keep the - like o' this out o' his sight. Ye'll maybe can read the character better - than me—I am nae that book learned, at least I'm no that muckle in - practice." - </p> - <p> - With this modest declaration of ignorance, Ochiltree brought forth from - behind a pillar the cover of the box or chest of treasure, which, when - forced from its hinges, had been carelessly flung aside during the ardour - of curiosity to ascertain the contents which it concealed, and had been - afterwards, as it seems, secreted by the mendicant. There was a word and a - number upon the plank, and the beggar made them more distinct by spitting - upon his ragged blue handkerchief, and rubbing off the clay by which the - inscription was obscured. It was in the ordinary black letter. - </p> - <p> - "Can ye mak ought o't?" said Edie to the adept. - </p> - <p> - "S," said the philosopher, like a child getting his lesson in the primer—"S, - T, A, R, C, H,—<i>Starch!</i>—dat is what de woman-washers put - into de neckerchers, and de shirt collar." - </p> - <p> - "Search!" echoed Ochiltree; "na, na, Mr. Dusterdeevil, ye are mair of a - conjuror than a clerk—it's <i>search,</i> man, <i>search</i>—See, - there's the <i>Ye</i> clear and distinct." - </p> - <p> - "Aha! I see it now—it is <i>search—number one.</i> Mein - himmel! then there must be a <i>number two,</i> mein goot friend: for <i>search</i> - is what you call to seek and dig, and this is but <i>number one!</i> Mine - wort, there is one great big prize in de wheel for us, goot Maister - Ochiltree." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, it may be sae; but we canna howk fort enow—we hae nae - shules, for they hae taen them a' awa—and it's like some o' them - will be sent back to fling the earth into the hole, and mak a' things trig - again. But an ye'll sit down wi' me a while in the wood, I'se satisfy your - honour that ye hae just lighted on the only man in the country that could - hae tauld about Malcolm Misticot and his hidden treasure—But first - we'll rub out the letters on this board, for fear it tell tales." - </p> - <p> - And, by the assistance of his knife, the beggar erased and defaced the - characters so as to make them quite unintelligible, and then daubed the - board with clay so as to obliterate all traces of the erasure. - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel stared at him in ambiguous silence. There was an - intelligence and alacrity about all the old man's movements, which - indicated a person that could not be easily overreached, and yet (for even - rogues acknowledge in some degree the spirit of precedence) our adept felt - the disgrace of playing a secondary part, and dividing winnings with so - mean an associate. His appetite for gain, however, was sufficiently sharp - to overpower his offended pride, and though far more an impostor than a - dupe, he was not without a certain degree of personal faith even in the - gross superstitions by means of which he imposed upon others. Still, being - accustomed to act as a leader on such occasions, he felt humiliated at - feeling himself in the situation of a vulture marshalled to his prey by a - carrion-crow.—"Let me, however, hear this story to an end," thought - Dousterswivel, "and it will be hard if I do not make mine account in it - better as Maister Edie Ochiltrees makes proposes." - </p> - <p> - The adept, thus transformed into a pupil from a teacher of the mystic art, - followed Ochiltree in passive acquiescence to the Prior's Oak—a - spot, as the reader may remember, at a short distance from the ruins, - where the German sat down, and silence waited the old man's communication. - </p> - <p> - "Maister Dustandsnivel," said the narrator, "it's an unco while since I - heard this business treated anent;—for the lairds of Knockwinnock, - neither Sir Arthur, nor his father, nor his grandfather—and I mind a - wee bit about them a'—liked to hear it spoken about; nor they dinna - like it yet—But nae matter; ye may be sure it was clattered about in - the kitchen, like onything else in a great house, though it were forbidden - in the ha'—and sae I hae heard the circumstance rehearsed by auld - servants in the family; and in thir present days, when things o' that - auld-warld sort arena keepit in mind round winter fire-sides as they used - to be, I question if there's onybody in the country can tell the tale but - mysell—aye out-taken the laird though, for there's a parchment book - about it, as I have heard, in the charter-room at Knockwinnock Castle." - </p> - <p> - "Well, all dat is vary well—but get you on with your stories, mine - goot friend," said Dousterswivel. - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, ye see," continued the mendicant, "this was a job in the auld - times o' rugging and riving through the hale country, when it was ilka ane - for himsell, and God for us a'—when nae man wanted property if he - had strength to take it, or had it langer than he had power to keep it. It - was just he ower her, and she ower him, whichever could win upmost, a' - through the east country here, and nae doubt through the rest o' Scotland - in the self and same manner. - </p> - <p> - "Sae in these days Sir Richard Wardour came into the land, and that was - the first o' the name ever was in this country. There's been mony o' them - sin' syne; and the maist, like him they ca'd Hell-in-Harness, and the rest - o' them, are sleeping down in yon ruins. They were a proud dour set o' - men, but unco brave, and aye stood up for the weel o' the country, God - sain them a'—there's no muckle popery in that wish. They ca'd them - the Norman Wardours, though they cam frae the south to this country. So - this Sir Richard, that they ca'd Red-hand, drew up wi' the auld - Knockwinnock o' that day—for then they were Knockwinnocks of that - Ilk—and wad fain marry his only daughter, that was to have the - castle and the land. Laith, laith was the lass—(Sybil Knockwinnock - they ca'd her that tauld me the tale)—laith, laith was she to gie - into the match, for she had fa'en a wee ower thick wi' a cousin o' her ain - that her father had some ill-will to; and sae it was, that after she had - been married to Sir Richard jimp four months—for marry him she maun, - it's like—ye'll no hinder her gieing them a present o' a bonny knave - bairn. Then there was siccan a ca'-thro', as the like was never seen; and - she's be burnt, and he's be slain, was the best words o' their mouths. But - it was a' sowdered up again some gait, and the bairn was sent awa, and - bred up near the Highlands, and grew up to be a fine wanle fallow, like - mony ane that comes o' the wrang side o' the blanket; and Sir Richard wi' - the Red-hand, he had a fair offspring o'his ain, and a was lound and quiet - till his head was laid in the ground. But then down came Malcolm Misticot—(Sir - Arthur says it should be <i>Misbegot,</i> but they aye ca'd him Misticot - that spoke o't lang syne)—down cam this Malcolm, the love-begot, - frae Glen-isla, wi' a string o' lang-legged Highlanders at his heels, - that's aye ready for onybody's mischief, and he threeps the castle and - lands are his ain as his mother's eldest son, and turns a' the Wardours - out to the hill. There was a sort of fighting and blude-spilling about it, - for the gentles took different sides; but Malcolm had the uppermost for a - lang time, and keepit the Castle of Knockwinnock, and strengthened it, and - built that muckle tower that they ca' Misticot's tower to this day." - </p> - <p> - "Mine goot friend, old Mr. Edie Ochiltree." interrupted the German, "this - is all as one like de long histories of a baron of sixteen quarters in - mine countries; but I would as rather hear of de silver and gold." - </p> - <p> - "Why, ye see," continued the mendicant, "this Malcolm was weel helped by - an uncle, a brother o' his father's, that was Prior o' St. Ruth here; and - muckle treasure they gathered between them, to secure the succession of - their house in the lands of Knockwinnock. Folk said that the monks in thae - days had the art of multiplying metals—at ony rate, they were very - rich. At last it came to this, that the young Wardour, that was Red-hand's - son, challenged Misticot to fight with him in the lists as they ca'd them—that's - no lists or tailor's runds and selvedges o' claith, but a palin'-thing - they set up for them to fight in like game-cocks. Aweel, Misticot was - beaten, and at his brother's mercy—but he wadna touch his life, for - the blood of Knockwinnock that was in baith their veins: so Malcolm was - compelled to turn a monk, and he died soon after in the priory, of pure - despite and vexation. Naebody ever kenn'd whare his uncle the prior earded - him, or what he did wi' his gowd and silver, for he stood on the right o' - halie kirk, and wad gie nae account to onybody. But the prophecy gat - abroad in the country, that whenever Misticot's grave was fund out, the - estate of Knockwinnock should be lost and won." - </p> - <p> - "Ach! mine goot old friend, Maister Edie, and dat is not so very unlikely, - if Sir Arthurs will quarrel wit his goot friends to please Mr. Oldenbuck.—And - so you do tink dat dis golds and silvers belonged to goot Mr. Malcolm - Mishdigoat?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth do I, Mr. Dousterdeevil." - </p> - <p> - "And you do believe dat dere is more of dat sorts behind?" - </p> - <p> - "By my certie do I—How can it be otherwise?—<i>Search—No. - I</i>—that is as muckle as to say, search and ye'll find number twa. - Besides, yon kist is only silver, and I aye heard that' Misticot's pose - had muckle yellow gowd in't." - </p> - <p> - "Den, mine goot friends," said the adept, jumping up hastily, "why do we - not set about our little job directly?" - </p> - <p> - "For twa gude reasons," answered the beggar, who quietly kept his sitting - posture;—"first, because, as I said before, we have naething to dig - wi', for they hae taen awa the picks and shules; and, secondly, because - there will be a wheen idle gowks coming to glower at the hole as lang as - it is daylight, and maybe the laird may send somebody to fill it up—and - ony way we wad be catched. But if you will meet me on this place at twal - o'clock wi' a dark lantern, I'll hae tools ready, and we'll gang quietly - about our job our twa sells, and naebody the wiser for't." - </p> - <p> - "Be—be—but, mine goot friend," said Dousterswivel, from whose - recollection his former nocturnal adventure was not to be altogether - erased, even by the splendid hopes which Edie's narrative held forth, "it - is not so goot or so safe, to be about goot Maister Mishdigoat's grabe at - dat time of night—you have forgot how I told you de spirits did hone - and mone dere. I do assure you, dere is disturbance dere." - </p> - <p> - "If ye're afraid of ghaists," answered the mendicant, coolly, "I'll do the - job mysell, and bring your share o' the siller to ony place you like to - appoint." - </p> - <p> - "No—no—mine excellent old Mr. Edie,—too much trouble for - you—I will not have dat—I will come myself—and it will - be bettermost; for, mine old friend, it was I, Herman Dousterswivel, - discovered Maister Mishdigoat's grave when I was looking for a place as to - put away some little trumpery coins, just to play one little trick on my - dear friend Sir Arthur, for a little sport and pleasures. Yes, I did take - some what you call rubbish, and did discover Maister Mishdigoat's own - monumentsh— It's like dat he meant I should be his heirs—so it - would not be civility in me not to come mineself for mine inheritance." - </p> - <p> - "At twal o'clock, then," said the mendicant, "we meet under this tree. - I'll watch for a while, and see that naebody meddles wi' the grave—it's - only saying the laird's forbade it—then get my bit supper frae - Ringan the poinder up by, and leave to sleep in his barn; and I'll slip - out at night, and neer be mist." - </p> - <p> - "Do so, mine goot Maister Edie, and I will meet you here on this very - place, though all de spirits should moan and sneeze deir very brains out." - </p> - <p> - So saying he shook hands with the old man, and with this mutual pledge of - fidelity to their appointment, they separated for the present. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0004" id="Alink2HCH0004"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FOURTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —See thou shake the bags - Of hoarding abbots; angels imprisoned - Set thou at liberty— - Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back, - If gold and silver beckon to come on. - King John. -</pre> - <p> - The night set in stormy, with wind and occasional showers of rain. "Eh, - sirs," said the old mendicant, as he took his place on the sheltered side - of the large oak-tree to wait for his associate—"Eh, sirs, but human - nature's a wilful and wilyard thing!—Is it not an unco lucre o' gain - wad bring this Dousterdivel out in a blast o' wind like this, at twal - o'clock at night, to thir wild gousty wa's?—and amna I a bigger fule - than himsell to bide here waiting for him?" - </p> - <p> - Having made these sage reflections, he wrapped himself close in his cloak, - and fixed his eye on the moon as she waded amid the stormy and dusky - clouds, which the wind from time to time drove across her surface. The - melancholy and uncertain gleams that she shot from between the passing - shadows fell full upon the rifted arches and shafted windows of the old - building, which were thus for an instant made distinctly visible in their - ruinous state, and anon became again a dark, undistinguished, and shadowy - mass. The little lake had its share of these transient beams of light, and - showed its waters broken, whitened, and agitated under the passing storm, - which, when the clouds swept over the moon, were only distinguished by - their sullen and murmuring plash against the beach. The wooded glen - repeated, to every successive gust that hurried through its narrow trough, - the deep and various groan with which the trees replied to the whirlwind, - and the sound sunk again, as the blast passed away, into a faint and - passing murmur, resembling the sighs of an exhausted criminal after the - first pangs of his torture are over. In these sounds, superstition might - have found ample gratification for that State of excited terror which she - fears and yet loves. But such feeling is made no part of Ochiltree's - composition. His mind wandered back to the scenes of his youth. - </p> - <p> - "I have kept guard on the outposts baith in Germany and America," he said - to himself, "in mony a waur night than this, and when I ken'd there was - maybe a dozen o' their riflemen in the thicket before me. But I was aye - gleg at my duty—naebody ever catched Edie sleeping." - </p> - <p> - As he muttered thus to himself, he instinctively shouldered his trusty - pike-staff, assumed the port of a sentinel on duty, and, as a step - advanced towards the tree, called, with a tone assorting better with his - military reminiscences than his present state—"Stand! who goes - there?" - </p> - <p> - "De devil, goot Edie," answered Dousterswivel, "why does you speak so loud - as a baarenhauter, or what you call a factionary—I mean a sentinel?" - </p> - <p> - "Just because I thought I was a sentinel at that moment," answered the - mendicant. "Here's an awsome night! Hae ye brought the lantern and a pock - for the siller?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay-ay, mine goot friend," said the German, "here it is—my pair of - what you call saddlebag; one side will be for you, one side for me;—I - will put dem on my horse to save you de trouble, as you are old man." - </p> - <p> - "Have you a horse here, then?" asked Edie Ochiltree. - </p> - <p> - "O yes, mine friend—tied yonder by de stile," responded the adept. - </p> - <p> - "Weel, I hae just ae word to the bargain—there sall nane o' my gear - gang on your beast's back." - </p> - <p> - "What was it as you would be afraid of?" said the foreigner. - </p> - <p> - "Only of losing sight of horse, man, and money," again replied the - gaberlunzie. - </p> - <p> - "Does you know dat you make one gentlemans out to be one great rogue?" - </p> - <p> - "Mony gentlemen," replied Ochiltree, "can make that out for themselves— - But what's the sense of quarrelling?—If ye want to gang on, gang on—if - no—I'll gae back to the gude ait-straw in Ringan Aikwood's barn that - I left wi' right ill-will e'now, and I'll pit back the pick and shule whar - I got them." - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel deliberated a moment, whether, by suffering Edie to depart, - he might not secure the whole of the expected wealth for his own exclusive - use. But the want of digging implements, the uncertainty whether, if he - had them, he could clear out the grave to a sufficient depth without - assistance, and, above all, the reluctance which he felt, owing to the - experience of the former night, to venture alone on the terrors of - Misticot's grave, satisfied him the attempt would be hazardous. - Endeavouring, therefore, to assume his usual cajoling tone, though - internally incensed, he begged "his goot friend Maister Edie Ochiltrees - would lead the way, and assured him of his acquiescence in all such an - excellent friend could propose." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, aweel, then," said Edie, "tak gude care o' your feet amang the - lang grass and the loose stones. I wish we may get the light keepit in - neist, wi' this fearsome wind—but there's a blink o' moonlight at - times." - </p> - <p> - Thus saying, old Edie, closely accompanied by the adept, led the way - towards the ruins, but presently made a full halt in front of them. - </p> - <p> - "Ye're a learned man, Mr. Dousterdeevil, and ken muckle o' the marvellous - works o' nature—Now, will ye tell me ae thing?—D'ye believe in - ghaists and spirits that walk the earth?—d'ye believe in them, ay or - no?" - </p> - <p> - "Now, goot Mr. Edie," whispered Dousterswivel, in an expostulatory tone of - voice, "is this a times or a places for such a questions?" - </p> - <p> - "Indeed is it, baith the tane and the t'other, Mr. Dustanshovel; for I - maun fairly tell ye, there's reports that auld Misticot walks. Now this - wad be an uncanny night to meet him in, and wha kens if he wad be ower - weel pleased wi' our purpose of visiting his pose?" - </p> - <p> - "<i>Alle guten Geister</i>"—muttered the adept, the rest of the - conjuration being lost in a tremulous warble of his voice,—"I do - desires you not to speak so, Mr. Edie; for, from all I heard dat one other - night, I do much believes"— - </p> - <p> - "Now I," said Ochiltree, entering the chancel, and flinging abroad his arm - with an air of defiance, "I wadna gie the crack o' my thumb for him were - he to appear at this moment: he's but a disembodied spirit, as we are - embodied anes." - </p> - <p> - "For the lofe of heavens," said Dousterswivel, "say nothing at all neither - about somebodies or nobodies!" - </p> - <p> - "Aweel," said the beggar (expanding the shade of the lantern), "here's the - stane, and, spirit or no spirit, I'se be a wee bit deeper in the grave;" - and he jumped into the place from which the precious chest had that - morning been removed. After striking a few strokes, he tired, or affected - to tire, and said to his companion, "I'm auld and failed now, and canna - keep at it—time about's fair play, neighbour; ye maun get in and tak - the shule a bit, and shule out the loose earth, and then I'll tak turn - about wi' you." - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel accordingly took the place which the beggar had evacuated, - and toiled with all the zeal that awakened avarice, mingled with the - anxious wish to finish the undertaking and leave the place as soon as - possible, could inspire in a mind at once greedy, suspicious, and - timorous. - </p> - <p> - Edie, standing much at his ease by the side of the hole, contented himself - with exhorting his associate to labour hard. "My certie! few ever wrought - for siccan a day's wage; an it be but—say the tenth part o' the size - o' the kist, No. I., it will double its value, being filled wi' gowd - instead of silver. Od, ye work as if ye had been bred to pick and shule—ye - could win your round half-crown ilka day. Tak care o' your taes wi' that - stane!" giving a kick to a large one which the adept had heaved out with - difficulty, and which Edie pushed back again to the great annoyance of his - associate's shins. - </p> - <p> - Thus exhorted by the mendicant, Dousterswivel struggled and laboured among - the stones and stiff clay, toiling like a horse, and internally - blaspheming in German. When such an unhallowed syllable escaped his lips, - Edie changed his battery upon him. - </p> - <p> - "O dinna swear! dinna swear! Wha kens whals listening!—Eh! gude - guide us, what's yon!—Hout, it's just a branch of ivy flightering - awa frae the wa'; when the moon was in, it lookit unco like a dead man's - arm wi' a taper in't—I thought it was Misticot himsell. But never - mind, work you away—fling the earth weel up by out o' the gate—Od, - if ye're no as clean a worker at a grave as Win Winnet himsell! What gars - ye stop now?—ye're just at the very bit for a chance." - </p> - <p> - "Stop!" said the German, in a tone of anger and disappointment, "why, I am - down at de rocks dat de cursed ruins (God forgife me!) is founded upon." - </p> - <p> - "Weel," said the beggar, "that's the likeliest bit of ony. It will be but - a muckle through-stane laid doun to kiver the gowd—tak the pick - till't, and pit mair strength, man—ae gude down-right devvel will - split it, I'se warrant ye—Ay, that will do Od, he comes on wi' - Wallace's straiks!" - </p> - <p> - In fact, the adept, moved by Edie's exhortations, fetched two or three - desperate blows, and succeeded in breaking, not indeed that against which - he struck, which, as he had already conjectured, was the solid rock, but - the implement which he wielded, jarring at the same time his arms up to - the shoulder-blades. - </p> - <p> - "Hurra, boys!—there goes Ringan's pick-axe!" cried Edie "it's a - shame o' the Fairport folk to sell siccan frail gear. Try the shule—at - it again, Mr. Dusterdeevil." - </p> - <p> - The adept, without reply, scrambled out of the pit, which was now about - six feet deep, and addressed his associate in a voice that trembled with - anger. "Does you know, Mr. Edies Ochiltrees, who it is you put off your - gibes and your jests upon?" - </p> - <p> - "Brawly, Mr. Dusterdeevil—brawly do I ken ye, and has done mony a - day; but there's nae jesting in the case, for I am wearying to see ae our - treasures; we should hae had baith ends o' the pockmanky filled by this - time—I hope it's bowk eneugh to haud a' the gear?" - </p> - <p> - "Look you, you base old person," said the incensed philosopher, "if you do - put another jest upon me, I will cleave your skull-piece with this - shovels!" - </p> - <p> - "And whare wad my hands and my pike-staff be a' the time?" replied Edie, - in a tone that indicated no apprehension. "Hout, tout, Maister - Dusterdeevil, I haena lived sae lang in the warld neither, to be shuled - out o't that gate. What ails ye to be cankered, man, wi' your friends? - I'll wager I'll find out the treasure in a minute;" and he jumped into the - pit, and took up the spade. - </p> - <p> - "I do swear to you," said the adept, whose suspicions were now fully - awake, "that if you have played me one big trick, I will give you one big - beating, Mr. Edies." - </p> - <p> - "Hear till him now!" said Ochiltree, "he kens how to gar folk find out the - gear—Od, I'm thinking he's been drilled that way himsell some day." - </p> - <p> - At this insinuation, which alluded obviously to the former scene betwixt - himself and Sir Arthur, the philosopher lost the slender remnant of - patience he had left, and being of violent passions, heaved up the - truncheon of the broken mattock to discharge it upon the old man's head. - The blow would in all probability have been fatal, had not he at whom it - was aimed exclaimed in a stern and firm voice, "Shame to ye, man!—do - ye think Heaven or earth will suffer ye to murder an auld man that might - be your father?—Look behind ye, man!" - </p> - <p> - Dousterswivel turned instinctively, and beheld, to his utter astonishment, - a tall dark figure standing close behind him. The apparition gave him no - time to proceed by exorcism or otherwise, but having instantly recourse to - the <i>voie de fait,</i> took measure of the adept's shoulders three or - four times with blows so substantial, that he fell under the weight of - them, and remained senseless for some minutes between fear and - stupefaction. When he came to himself, he was alone in the ruined chancel, - lying upon the soft and damp earth which had been thrown out of Misticot's - grave. He raised himself with a confused sensation of anger, pain, and - terror, and it was not until he had sat upright for some minutes, that he - could arrange his ideas sufficiently to recollect how he came there, or - with what purpose. As his recollection returned, he could have little - doubt that the bait held out to him by Ochiltree, to bring him to that - solitary spot, the sarcasms by which he had provoked him into a quarrel, - and the ready assistance which he had at hand for terminating it in the - manner in which it had ended, were all parts of a concerted plan to bring - disgrace and damage on Herman Dousterswivel. He could hardly suppose that - he was indebted for the fatigue, anxiety, and beating which he had - undergone, purely to the malice of Edie Ochiltree singly, but concluded - that the mendicant had acted a part assigned to him by some person of - greater importance. His suspicions hesitated between Oldbuck and Sir - Arthur Wardour. The former had been at no pains to conceal a marked - dislike of him—but the latter he had deeply injured; and although he - judged that Sir Arthur did not know the extent of his wrongs towards him, - yet it was easy to suppose he had gathered enough of the truth to make him - desirous of revenge. Ochiltree had alluded to at least one circumstance - which the adept had every reason to suppose was private between Sir Arthur - and himself, and therefore must have been learned from the former. The - language of Oldbuck also intimated a conviction of his knavery, which Sir - Arthur heard without making any animated defence. Lastly, the way in which - Dousterswivel supposed the Baronet to have exercised his revenge, was not - inconsistent with the practice of other countries with which the adept was - better acquainted than with those of North Britain. With him, as with many - bad men, to suspect an injury, and to nourish the purpose of revenge, was - one and the same movement. And before Dousterswivel had fairly recovered - his legs, he had mentally sworn the ruin of his benefactor, which, - unfortunately, he possessed too much the power of accelerating. - </p> - <p> - But although a purpose of revenge floated through his brain, it was no - time to indulge such speculations. The hour, the place, his own situation, - and perhaps the presence or near neighbourhood of his assailants, made - self-preservation the adept's first object. The lantern had been thrown - down and extinguished in the scuffle. The wind, which formerly howled so - loudly through the aisles of the ruin, had now greatly fallen, lulled by - the rain, which was descending very fast. The moon, from the same cause, - was totally obscured, and though Dousterswivel had some experience of the - ruins, and knew that he must endeavour to regain the eastern door of the - chancel, yet the confusion of his ideas was such, that he hesitated for - some time ere he could ascertain in what direction he was to seek it. In - this perplexity, the suggestions of superstition, taking the advantage of - darkness and his evil conscience, began again to present themselves to his - disturbed imagination. "But bah!" quoth he valiantly to himself, "it is - all nonsense all one part of de damn big trick and imposture. Devil! that - one thick-skulled Scotch Baronet, as I have led by the nose for five year, - should cheat Herman Dousterswivel!" - </p> - <p> - As he had come to this conclusion, an incident occurred which tended - greatly to shake the grounds on which he had adopted it. Amid the - melancholy <i>sough</i> of the dying wind, and the plash of the rain-drops - on leaves and stones, arose, and apparently at no great distance from the - listener, a strain of vocal music so sad and solemn, as if the departed - spirits of the churchmen who had once inhabited these deserted ruins were - mourning the solitude and desolation to which their hallowed precincts had - been abandoned. Dousterswivel, who had now got upon his feet, and was - groping around the wall of the chancel, stood rooted to the ground on the - occurrence of this new phenomenon. Each faculty of his soul seemed for the - moment concentred in the sense of hearing, and all rushed back with the - unanimous information, that the deep, wild, and prolonged chant which he - now heard, was the appropriate music of one of the most solemn dirges of - the Church of Rome. Why performed in such a solitude, and by what class of - choristers, were questions which the terrified imagination of the adept, - stirred with all the German superstitions of nixies, oak-kings, - wer-wolves, hobgoblins, black spirits and white, blue spirits and grey, - durst not even attempt to solve. - </p> - <p> - Another of his senses was soon engaged in the investigation. At the - extremity of one of the transepts of the church, at the bottom of a few - descending steps, was a small iron-grated door, opening, as far as he - recollected, to a sort of low vault or sacristy. As he cast his eye in the - direction of the sound, he observed a strong reflection of red light - glimmering through these bars, and against the steps which descended to - them. Dousterswivel stood a moment uncertain what to do; then, suddenly - forming a desperate resolution, he moved down the aisle to the place from - which the light proceeded. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Aimage-0005" id="Aimage-0005"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pb052.jpg" alt="The Funeral of the Countess " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - Fortified with the sign of the cross, and as many exorcisms as his memory - could recover, he advanced to the grate, from which, unseen, he could see - what passed in the interior of the vault. As he approached with timid and - uncertain steps, the chant, after one or two wild and prolonged cadences, - died away into profound silence. The grate, when he reached it, presented - a singular spectacle in the interior of the sacristy. An open grave, with - four tall flambeaus, each about six feet high, placed at the four corners—a - bier, having a corpse in its shroud, the arms folded upon the breast, - rested upon tressels at one side of the grave, as if ready to be interred—a - priest, dressed in his cope and stole, held open the service book—another - churchman in his vestments bore a holy-water sprinkler, and two boys in - white surplices held censers with incense—a man, of a figure once - tall and commanding, but now bent with age or infirmity, stood alone and - nearest to the coffin, attired in deep mourning—such were the most - prominent figures of the group. At a little distance were two or three - persons of both sexes, attired in long mourning hoods and cloaks; and five - or six others in the same lugubrious dress, still farther removed from the - body, around the walls of the vault, stood ranged in motionless order, - each bearing in his hand a huge torch of black wax. The smoky light from - so many flambeaus, by the red and indistinct atmosphere which it spread - around, gave a hazy, dubious, and as it were phantom-like appearance to - the outlines of this singular apparition, The voice of the priest—loud, - clear, and sonorous—now recited, from the breviary which he held in - his hand, those solemn words which the ritual of the Catholic church has - consecrated to the rendering of dust to dust. Meanwhile, Dousterswivel, - the place, the hour, and the surprise considered, still remained uncertain - whether what he saw was substantial, or an unearthly representation of the - rites to which in former times these walls were familiar, but which are - now rarely practised in Protestant countries, and almost never in - Scotland. He was uncertain whether to abide the conclusion of the - ceremony, or to endeavour to regain the chancel, when a change in his - position made him visible through the grate to one of the attendant - mourners. The person who first espied him indicated his discovery to the - individual who stood apart and nearest the coffin, by a sign, and upon his - making a sign in reply, two of the group detached themselves, and, gliding - along with noiseless steps, as if fearing to disturb the service, unlocked - and opened the grate which separated them from the adept. Each took him by - an arm, and exerting a degree of force, which he would have been incapable - of resisting had his fear permitted him to attempt opposition, they placed - him on the ground in the chancel, and sat down, one on each side of him, - as if to detain him. Satisfied he was in the power of mortals like - himself, the adept would have put some questions to them; but while one - pointed to the vault, from which the sound of the priest's voice was - distinctly heard, the other placed his finger upon his lips in token of - silence, a hint which the German thought it most prudent to obey. And thus - they detained him until a loud Alleluia, pealing through the deserted - arches of St. Ruth, closed the singular ceremony which it had been his - fortune to witness. - </p> - <p> - When the hymn had died away with all its echoes, the voice of one of the - sable personages under whose guard the adept had remained, said, in a - familiar tone and dialect, "Dear sirs, Mr. Dousterswivel, is this you? - could not ye have let us ken an ye had wussed till hae been present at the - ceremony?—My lord couldna tak it weel your coming blinking and - jinking in, in that fashion." - </p> - <p> - "In de name of all dat is gootness, tell me what you are?" interrupted the - German in his turn. - </p> - <p> - "What I am? why, wha should I be but Ringan Aikwood, the Knockwinnock - poinder?—and what are ye doing here at this time o' night, unless ye - were come to attend the leddy's burial?" - </p> - <p> - "I do declare to you, mine goot Poinder Aikwood," said the German, raising - himself up, "that I have been this vary nights murdered, robbed, and put - in fears of my life." - </p> - <p> - "Robbed! wha wad do sic a deed here?—Murdered! od ye speak pretty - blithe for a murdered man—Put in fear! what put you in fear, Mr. - Dousterswivel?" - </p> - <p> - "I will tell you, Maister Poinder Aikwood Ringan, just dat old miscreant - dog villain blue-gown, as you call Edie Ochiltrees." - </p> - <p> - "I'll neer believe that," answered Ringan;—"Edie was ken'd to me, - and my father before me, for a true, loyal, and sooth-fast man; and, mair - by token, he's sleeping up yonder in our barn, and has been since ten at - e'en—Sae touch ye wha liket, Mr. Dousterswivel, and whether onybody - touched ye or no, I'm sure Edie's sackless." - </p> - <p> - "Maister Ringan Aikwood Poinders, I do not know what you call sackless,— - but let alone all de oils and de soot dat you say he has, and I will tell - you I was dis night robbed of fifty pounds by your oil and sooty friend, - Edies Ochiltree; and he is no more in your barn even now dan I ever shall - be in de kingdom of heafen." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, sir, if ye will gae up wi' me, as the burial company has dispersed, - we'se mak ye down a bed at the lodge, and we'se see if Edie's at the barn. - There was twa wild-looking chaps left the auld kirk when we were coming up - wi' the corpse, that's certain; and the priest, wha likes ill that ony - heretics should look on at our church ceremonies, sent twa o' the riding - saulies after them; sae we'll hear a' about it frae them." - </p> - <p> - Thus speaking, the kindly apparition, with the assistance of the mute - personage, who was his son, disencumbered himself of his cloak, and - prepared to escort Dousterswivel to the place of that rest which the adept - so much needed. - </p> - <p> - "I will apply to the magistrates to-morrow," said the adept; "oder, I will - have de law put in force against all the peoples." - </p> - <p> - While he thus muttered vengeance against the cause of his injury, he - tottered from among the ruins, supporting himself on Ringan and his son, - whose assistance his state of weakness rendered very necessary. - </p> - <p> - When they were clear of the priory, and had gained the little meadow in - which it stands, Dousterswivel could perceive the torches which had caused - him so much alarm issuing in irregular procession from the ruins, and - glancing their light, like that of the <i>ignis fatuus,</i> on the banks - of the lake. After moving along the path for some short space with a - fluctuating and irregular motion, the lights were at once extinguished. - </p> - <p> - "We aye put out the torches at the Halie-cross Well on sic occasions," - said the forester to his guest. And accordingly no farther visible sign of - the procession offered itself to Dousterswivel, although his ear could - catch the distant and decreasing echo of horses' hoofs in the direction - towards which the mourners had bent their course. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0005" id="Alink2HCH0005"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FIFTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O weel may the boatie row - And better may she speed, - And weel may the boatie row - That earns the bairnies' bread! - The boatie rows, the boatie rows, - The boatie rows fu' weel, - And lightsome be their life that bear - The merlin and the creel! - Old Ballad. -</pre> - <p> - We must now introduce our reader to the interior of the fisher's cottage - mentioned in CHAPTER eleventh of this edifying history. I wish I could say - that its inside was well arranged, decently furnished, or tolerably clean. - On the contrary, I am compelled to admit, there was confusion,— - there was dilapidation,—there was dirt good store. Yet, with all - this, there was about the inmates, Luckie Mucklebackit and her family, an - appearance of ease, plenty, and comfort, that seemed to warrant their old - sluttish proverb, "The clartier the cosier." A huge fire, though the - season was summer, occupied the hearth, and served at once for affording - light, heat, and the means of preparing food. The fishing had been - successful, and the family, with customary improvidence, had, since - unlading the cargo, continued an unremitting operation of broiling and - frying that part of the produce reserved for home consumption, and the - bones and fragments lay on the wooden trenchers, mingled with morsels of - broken bannocks and shattered mugs of half-drunk beer. The stout and - athletic form of Maggie herself, bustling here and there among a pack of - half-grown girls and younger children, of whom she chucked one now here - and another now there, with an exclamation of "Get out o' the gate, ye - little sorrow!" was strongly contrasted with the passive and - half-stupified look and manner of her husband's mother, a woman advanced - to the last stage of human life, who was seated in her wonted chair close - by the fire, the warmth of which she coveted, yet hardly seemed to be - sensible of—now muttering to herself, now smiling vacantly to the - children as they pulled the strings of her <i>toy</i> or close cap, or - twitched her blue checked apron. With her distaff in her bosom, and her - spindle in her hand, she plied lazily and mechanically the old-fashioned - Scottish thrift, according to the old-fashioned Scottish manner. The - younger children, crawling among the feet of the elder, watched the - progress of grannies spindle as it twisted, and now and then ventured to - interrupt its progress as it danced upon the floor in those vagaries which - the more regulated spinning-wheel has now so universally superseded, that - even the fated Princess in the fairy tale might roam through all Scotland - without the risk of piercing her hand with a spindle, and dying of the - wound. Late as the hour was (and it was long past midnight), the whole - family were still on foot, and far from proposing to go to bed; the dame - was still busy broiling car-cakes on the girdle, and the elder girl, the - half-naked mermaid elsewhere commemorated, was preparing a pile of - Findhorn haddocks (that is, haddocks smoked with green wood), to be eaten - along with these relishing provisions. - </p> - <p> - While they were thus employed, a slight tap at the door, accompanied with - the question, "Are ye up yet, sirs?" announced a visitor. The answer, "Ay, - ay,—come your ways ben, hinny," occasioned the lifting of the latch, - and Jenny Rintherout, the female domestic of our Antiquary, made her - appearance. - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay," exclaimed the mistress of the family—"Hegh, sirs! can this - be you, Jenny?—a sight o' you's gude for sair een, lass." - </p> - <p> - "O woman, we've been sae ta'en up wi' Captain Hector's wound up by, that I - havena had my fit out ower the door this fortnight; but he's better now, - and auld Caxon sleeps in his room in case he wanted onything. Sae, as soon - as our auld folk gaed to bed, I e'en snodded my head up a bit, and left - the house-door on the latch, in case onybody should be wanting in or out - while I was awa, and just cam down the gate to see an there was ony cracks - amang ye." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay," answered Luckie Mucklebackit, "I see you hae gotten a' your - braws on; ye're looking about for Steenie now—but he's no at hame - the night; and ye'll no do for Steenie, lass—a feckless thing like - you's no fit to mainteen a man." - </p> - <p> - "Steenie will no do for me," retorted Jenny, with a toss of her head that - might have become a higher-born damsel; "I maun hae a man that can - mainteen his wife." - </p> - <p> - "Ou ay, hinny—thae's your landward and burrows-town notions. My - certie!—fisherwives ken better—they keep the man, and keep the - house, and keep the siller too, lass." - </p> - <p> - "A wheen poor drudges ye are," answered the nymph of the land to the nymph - of the sea. "As sune as the keel o' the coble touches the sand, deil a bit - mair will the lazy fisher loons work, but the wives maun kilt their coats, - and wade into the surf to tak the fish ashore. And then the man casts aff - the wat and puts on the dry, and sits down wi' his pipe and his gill-stoup - ahint the ingle, like ony auld houdie, and neer a turn will he do till the - coble's afloat again! And the wife she maun get the scull on her back, and - awa wi' the fish to the next burrows-town, and scauld and ban wi'ilka wife - that will scauld and ban wi'her till it's sauld—and that's the gait - fisher-wives live, puir slaving bodies." - </p> - <p> - "Slaves?—gae wa', lass!—ca' the head o' the house slaves? - little ye ken about it, lass. Show me a word my Saunders daur speak, or a - turn he daur do about the house, without it be just to tak his meat, and - his drink, and his diversion, like ony o' the weans. He has mair sense - than to ca' anything about the bigging his ain, frae the rooftree down to - a crackit trencher on the bink. He kens weel eneugh wha feeds him, and - cleeds him, and keeps a' tight, thack and rape, when his coble is jowing - awa in the Firth, puir fallow. Na, na, lass!—them that sell the - goods guide the purse—them that guide the purse rule the house. Show - me ane o' yer bits o' farmer-bodies that wad let their wife drive the - stock to the market, and ca' in the debts. Na, na." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, aweel, Maggie, ilka land has its ain lauch—But where's - Steenie the night, when a's come and gane? And where's the gudeman?"* - </p> - <p> - * Note G. Gynecocracy. - </p> - <p> - "I hae putten the gudeman to his bed, for he was e'en sair forfain; and - Steenie's awa out about some barns-breaking wi' the auld gaberlunzie, Edie - Ochiltree: they'll be in sune, and ye can sit doun." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, gudewife" (taking a seat), "I haena that muckle time to stop—but - I maun tell ye about the news. Yell hae heard o' the muckle kist o' gowd - that Sir Arthur has fund down by at St. Ruth?—He'll be grander than - ever now—he'll no can haud down his head to sneeze, for fear o' - seeing his shoon." - </p> - <p> - "Ou ay—a' the country's heard o' that; but auld Edie says that they - ca' it ten times mair than ever was o't, and he saw them howk it up. Od, - it would be lang or a puir body that needed it got sic a windfa'." - </p> - <p> - "Na, that's sure eneugh.—And yell hae heard o' the Countess o' - Glenallan being dead and lying in state, and how she's to be buried at St. - Ruth's as this night fa's, wi' torch-light; and a' the popist servants, - and Ringan Aikwood, that's a papist too, are to be there, and it will be - the grandest show ever was seen." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, hinny," answered the Nereid, "if they let naebody but papists come - there, it'll no be muckle o' a show in this country, for the auld harlot, - as honest Mr. Blattergowl ca's her, has few that drink o' her cup o' - enchantments in this corner o' our chosen lands.—But what can ail - them to bury the auld carlin (a rudas wife she was) in the night-time?—I - dare say our gudemither will ken." - </p> - <p> - Here she exalted her voice, and exclaimed twice or thrice, "Gudemither! - gudemither!" but, lost in the apathy of age and deafness, the aged sibyl - she addressed continued plying her spindle without understanding the - appeal made to her. - </p> - <p> - "Speak to your grandmither, Jenny—Od, I wad rather hail the coble - half a mile aff, and the nor-wast wind whistling again in my teeth." - </p> - <p> - "Grannie," said the little mermaid, in a voice to which the old woman was - better accustomed, "minnie wants to ken what for the Glenallan folk aye - bury by candle-light in the ruing of St. Ruth!" - </p> - <p> - The old woman paused in the act of twirling the spindle, turned round to - the rest of the party, lifted her withered, trembling, and clay-coloured - hand, raised up her ashen-hued and wrinkled face, which the quick motion - of two light-blue eyes chiefly distinguished from the visage of a corpse, - and, as if catching at any touch of association with the living world, - answered, "What gars the Glenallan family inter their dead by torchlight, - said the lassie?—Is there a Glenallan dead e'en now?" - </p> - <p> - "We might be a' dead and buried too," said Maggie, "for onything ye wad - ken about it;"—and then, raising her voice to the stretch of her - mother-in-law's comprehension, she added, - </p> - <p> - "It's the auld Countess, gudemither." - </p> - <p> - "And is she ca'd hame then at last?" said the old woman, in a voice that - seemed to be agitated with much more feeling than belonged to her extreme - old age, and the general indifference and apathy of her manner—"is - she then called to her last account after her lang race o' pride and - power?—O God, forgie her!" - </p> - <p> - "But minnie was asking ye," resumed the lesser querist, "what for the - Glenallan family aye bury their dead by torch-light?" - </p> - <p> - "They hae aye dune sae," said the grandmother, "since the time the Great - Earl fell in the sair battle o' the Harlaw, when they say the coronach was - cried in ae day from the mouth of the Tay to the Buck of the Cabrach, that - ye wad hae heard nae other sound but that of lamentation for the great - folks that had fa'en fighting against Donald of the Isles. But the Great - Earl's mither was living—they were a doughty and a dour race, the - women o' the house o' Glenallan—and she wad hae nae coronach cried - for her son, but had him laid in the silence o' midnight in his place o' - rest, without either drinking the dirge, or crying the lament. She said he - had killed enow that day he died, for the widows and daughters o' the - Highlanders he had slain to cry the coronach for them they had lost, and - for her son too; and sae she laid him in his gave wi' dry eyes, and - without a groan or a wail. And it was thought a proud word o' the family, - and they aye stickit by it—and the mair in the latter times, because - in the night-time they had mair freedom to perform their popish ceremonies - by darkness and in secrecy than in the daylight—at least that was - the case in my time; they wad hae been disturbed in the day-time baith by - the law and the commons of Fairport—they may be owerlooked now, as I - have heard: the warlds changed—I whiles hardly ken whether I am - standing or sitting, or dead or living." - </p> - <p> - And looking round the fire, as if in a state of unconscious uncertainty of - which she complained, old Elspeth relapsed into her habitual and - mechanical occupation of twirling the spindle. - </p> - <p> - "Eh, sirs!" said Jenny Rintherout, under her breath to her gossip, "it's - awsome to hear your gudemither break out in that gait—it's like the - dead speaking to the living." - </p> - <p> - "Ye're no that far wrang, lass; she minds naething o' what passes the day—but - set her on auld tales, and she can speak like a prent buke. She kens mair - about the Glenallan family than maist folk—the gudeman's father was - their fisher mony a day. Ye maun ken the papists make a great point o' - eating fish—it's nae bad part o' their religion that, whatever the - rest is—I could aye sell the best o' fish at the best o' prices for - the Countess's ain table, grace be wi' her! especially on a Friday—But - see as our gudemither's hands and lips are ganging—now it's working - in her head like barm—she'll speak eneugh the night. Whiles she'll - no speak a word in a week, unless it be to the bits o' bairns." - </p> - <p> - "Hegh, Mrs. Mucklebackit, she's an awsome wife!" said Jenny in reply. - "D'ye think she's a'thegither right? Folk say she downa gang to the kirk, - or speak to the minister, and that she was ance a papist but since her - gudeman's been dead, naebody kens what she is. D'ye think yoursell that - she's no uncanny?" - </p> - <p> - "Canny, ye silly tawpie! think ye ae auld wife's less canny than anither? - unless it be Alison Breck—I really couldna in conscience swear for - her; I have kent the boxes she set fill'd wi' partans, when"— - </p> - <p> - "Whisht, whisht, Maggie," whispered Jenny—"your gudemither's gaun to - speak again." - </p> - <p> - "Wasna there some ane o' ye said," asked the old sibyl, "or did I dream, - or was it revealed to me, that Joscelind, Lady Glenallan, is dead, an' - buried this night?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, gudemither," screamed the daughter-in-law, "it's e'en sae." - </p> - <p> - "And e'en sae let it be," said old Elspeth; "she's made mony a sair heart - in her day—ay, e'en her ain son's—is he living yet?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, he's living yet; but how lang he'll live—however, dinna ye mind - his coming and asking after you in the spring, and leaving siller?" - </p> - <p> - "It may be sae, Magge—I dinna mind it—but a handsome gentleman - he was, and his father before him. Eh! if his father had lived, they might - hae been happy folk! But he was gane, and the lady carried it in—ower - and out-ower wi' her son, and garr'd him trow the thing he never suld hae - trowed, and do the thing he has repented a' his life, and will repent - still, were his life as lang as this lang and wearisome ane o' mine." - </p> - <p> - "O what was it, grannie?"—and "What was it, gudemither?"—and - "What was it, Luckie Elspeth?" asked the children, the mother, and the - visitor, in one breath. - </p> - <p> - "Never ask what it was," answered the old sibyl, "but pray to God that ye - arena left to the pride and wilfu'ness o' your ain hearts: they may be as - powerful in a cabin as in a castle—I can bear a sad witness to that. - O that weary and fearfu' night! will it never gang out o' my auld head!—Eh! - to see her lying on the floor wi' her lang hair dreeping wi' the salt - water!—Heaven will avenge on a' that had to do wi't. Sirs! is my son - out wi' the coble this windy e'en?" - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, mither—nae coble can keep the sea this wind; he's sleeping - in his bed out-ower yonder ahint the hallan." - </p> - <p> - "Is Steenie out at sea then?" - </p> - <p> - "Na, grannie—Steenie's awa out wi' auld Edie Ochiltree, the - gaberlunzie; maybe they'll be gaun to see the burial." - </p> - <p> - "That canna be," said the mother of the family; "we kent naething o't till - Jock Rand cam in, and tauld us the Aikwoods had warning to attend— - they keep thae things unco private—and they were to bring the corpse - a' the way frae the Castle, ten miles off, under cloud o' night. She has - lain in state this ten days at Glenallan House, in a grand chamber a' hung - wi' black, and lighted wi' wax cannle." - </p> - <p> - "God assoilzie her!" ejaculated old Elspeth, her head apparently still - occupied by the event of the Countess's death; "she was a hard-hearted - woman, but she's gaen to account for it a', and His mercy is infinite— - God grant she may find it sae!" And she relapsed into silence, which she - did not break again during the rest of the evening. - </p> - <p> - "I wonder what that auld daft beggar carle and our son Steenie can be - doing out in sic a nicht as this," said Maggie Mucklebackit; and her - expression of surprise was echoed by her visitor. "Gang awa, ane o' ye, - hinnies, up to the heugh head, and gie them a cry in case they're within - hearing; the car-cakes will be burnt to a cinder." - </p> - <p> - The little emissary departed, but in a few minutes came running back with - the loud exclamation, "Eh, Minnie! eh, grannie! there's a white bogle - chasing twa black anes down the heugh." - </p> - <p> - A noise of footsteps followed this singular annunciation, and young - Steenie Mucklebackit, closely followed by Edie Ochiltree, bounced into the - hut. They were panting and out of breath. The first thing Steenie did was - to look for the bar of the door, which his mother reminded him had been - broken up for fire-wood in the hard winter three years ago; "for what - use," she said, "had the like o' them for bars?" - </p> - <p> - "There's naebody chasing us," said the beggar, after he had taken his - breath: "we're e'en like the wicked, that flee when no one pursueth." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, but we were chased," said Steenie, "by a spirit or something - little better." - </p> - <p> - "It was a man in white on horseback," said Edie, "for the soft grund that - wadna bear the beast, flung him about, I wot that weel; but I didna think - my auld legs could have brought me aff as fast; I ran amaist as fast as if - I had been at Prestonpans."* - </p> - <p> - * [This refers to the flight of the government forces at the battle of - Prestonpans, 1745.] - </p> - <p> - "Hout, ye daft gowks!" said Luckie Mucklebackit, "it will hae been some o' - the riders at the Countess's burial." - </p> - <p> - "What!" said Edie, "is the auld Countess buried the night at St. Ruth's? - Ou, that wad be the lights and the noise that scarr'd us awa; I wish I had - ken'd—I wad hae stude them, and no left the man yonder—but - they'll take care o' him. Ye strike ower hard, Steenie I doubt ye - foundered the chield." - </p> - <p> - "Neer a bit," said Steenie, laughing; "he has braw broad shouthers, and I - just took measure o' them wi' the stang. Od, if I hadna been something - short wi' him, he wad hae knockit your auld hams out, lad." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, an I win clear o' this scrape," said Edie, "I'se tempt Providence - nae mair. But I canna think it an unlawfu' thing to pit a bit trick on sic - a landlouping scoundrel, that just lives by tricking honester folk." - </p> - <p> - "But what are we to do with this?" said Steenie, producing a pocket-book. - </p> - <p> - "Od guide us, man," said Edie in great alarm, "what garr'd ye touch the - gear? a very leaf o' that pocket-book wad be eneugh to hang us baith." - </p> - <p> - "I dinna ken," said Steenie; "the book had fa'en out o' his pocket, I - fancy, for I fand it amang my feet when I was graping about to set him on - his logs again, and I just pat it in my pouch to keep it safe; and then - came the tramp of horse, and you cried, Rin, rin,' and I had nae mair - thought o' the book." - </p> - <p> - "We maun get it back to the loon some gait or other; ye had better take it - yoursell, I think, wi' peep o' light, up to Ringan Aikwood's. I wadna for - a hundred pounds it was fund in our hands." - </p> - <p> - Steenie undertook to do as he was directed. - </p> - <p> - "A bonny night ye hae made o't, Mr. Steenie," said Jenny Rintherout, who, - impatient of remaining so long unnoticed, now presented herself to the - young fisherman—"A bonny night ye hae made o't, tramping about wi' - gaberlunzies, and getting yoursell hunted wi' worricows, when ye suld be - sleeping in your bed, like your father, honest man." - </p> - <p> - This attack called forth a suitable response of rustic raillery from the - young fisherman. An attack was now commenced upon the car-cakes and smoked - fish, and sustained with great perseverance by assistance of a bicker or - two of twopenny ale and a bottle of gin. The mendicant then retired to the - straw of an out-house adjoining,—the children had one by one crept - into their nests,—the old grandmother was deposited in her - flock-bed,—Steenie, notwithstanding his preceding fatigue, had the - gallantry to accompany Miss Rintherout to her own mansion, and at what - hour he returned the story saith not,—and the matron of the family, - having laid the gathering-coal upon the fire, and put things in some sort - of order, retired to rest the last of the family. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0006" id="Alink2HCH0006"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SIXTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —Many great ones - Would part with half their states, to have the plan - And credit to beg in the first style. - Beggar's Bush. -</pre> - <p> - Old Edie was stirring with the lark, and his first inquiry was after - Steenie and the pocket-book. The young fisherman had been under the - necessity of attending his father before daybreak, to avail themselves of - the tide, but he had promised that, immediately on his return, the - pocket-book, with all its contents, carefully wrapped up in a piece of - sail-cloth, should be delivered by him to Ringan Aikwood, for - Dousterswivel, the owner. - </p> - <p> - The matron had prepared the morning meal for the family, and, shouldering - her basket of fish, tramped sturdily away towards Fairport. The children - were idling round the door, for the day was fair and sun-shiney. The - ancient grandame, again seated on her wicker-chair by the fire, had - resumed her eternal spindle, wholly unmoved by the yelling and screaming - of the children, and the scolding of the mother, which had preceded the - dispersion of the family. Edie had arranged his various bags, and was - bound for the renewal of his wandering life, but first advanced with due - courtesy to take his leave of the ancient crone. - </p> - <p> - "Gude day to ye, cummer, and mony ane o' them. I will be back about the - fore-end o'har'st, and I trust to find ye baith haill and fere." - </p> - <p> - "Pray that ye may find me in my quiet grave," said the old woman, in a - hollow and sepulchral voice, but without the agitation of a single - feature. - </p> - <p> - "Ye're auld, cummer, and sae am I mysell; but we maun abide His will— - we'll no be forgotten in His good time." - </p> - <p> - "Nor our deeds neither," said the crone: "what's dune in the body maun be - answered in the spirit." - </p> - <p> - "I wot that's true; and I may weel tak the tale hame to mysell, that hae - led a misruled and roving life. But ye were aye a canny wife. We're a' - frail—but ye canna hae sae muckle to bow ye down." - </p> - <p> - "Less than I might have had—but mair, O far mair, than wad sink the - stoutest brig e'er sailed out o' Fairport harbour!—Didna somebody - say yestreen—at least sae it is borne in on my mind, but auld folk - hae weak fancies—did not somebody say that Joscelind, Countess of - Glenallan, was departed frae life?" - </p> - <p> - "They said the truth whaever said it," answered old Edie; "she was buried - yestreen by torch-light at St. Ruth's, and I, like a fule, gat a gliff wi' - seeing the lights and the riders." - </p> - <p> - "It was their fashion since the days of the Great Earl that was killed at - Harlaw;—they did it to show scorn that they should die and be buried - like other mortals; the wives o' the house of Glenallan wailed nae wail - for the husband, nor the sister for the brother.—But is she e'en - ca'd to the lang account?" - </p> - <p> - "As sure," answered Edie, "as we maun a' abide it." - </p> - <p> - "Then I'll unlade my mind, come o't what will." - </p> - <p> - This she spoke with more alacrity than usually attended her expressions, - and accompanied her words with an attitude of the hand, as if throwing - something from her. She then raised up her form, once tall, and still - retaining the appearance of having been so, though bent with age and - rheumatism, and stood before the beggar like a mummy animated by some - wandering spirit into a temporary resurrection. Her light-blue eyes - wandered to and fro, as if she occasionally forgot and again remembered - the purpose for which her long and withered hand was searching among the - miscellaneous contents of an ample old-fashioned pocket. At length she - pulled out a small chip-box, and opening it, took out a handsome ring, in - which was set a braid of hair, composed of two different colours, black - and light brown, twined together, encircled with brilliants of - considerable value. - </p> - <p> - "Gudeman," she said to Ochiltree, "as ye wad e'er deserve mercy, ye maun - gang my errand to the house of Glenallan, and ask for the Earl." - </p> - <p> - "The Earl of Glenallan, cummer! ou, he winna see ony o' the gentles o' the - country, and what likelihood is there that he wad see the like o' an auld - gaberlunzie?" - </p> - <p> - "Gang your ways and try;—and tell him that Elspeth o' the - Craigburnfoot—he'll mind me best by that name—maun see him or - she be relieved frae her lang pilgrimage, and that she sends him that ring - in token of the business she wad speak o'." - </p> - <p> - Ochiltree looked on the ring with some admiration of its apparent value, - and then carefully replacing it in the box, and wrapping it in an old - ragged handkerchief, he deposited the token in his bosom. - </p> - <p> - "Weel, gudewife," he said, "I'se do your bidding, or it's no be my fault. - But surely there was never sic a braw propine as this sent to a yerl by an - auld fishwife, and through the hands of a gaberlunzie beggar." - </p> - <p> - With this reflection, Edie took up his pike-staff, put on his - broad-brimmed bonnet, and set forth upon his pilgrimage. The old woman - remained for some time standing in a fixed posture, her eyes directed to - the door through which her ambassador had departed. The appearance of - excitation, which the conversation had occasioned, gradually left her - features; she sank down upon her accustomed seat, and resumed her - mechanical labour of the distaff and spindle, with her wonted air of - apathy. - </p> - <p> - Edie Ochiltree meanwhile advanced on his journey. The distance to - Glenallan was ten miles, a march which the old soldier accomplished in - about four hours. With the curiosity belonging to his idle trade and - animated character, he tortured himself the whole way to consider what - could be the meaning of this mysterious errand with which he was - entrusted, or what connection the proud, wealthy, and powerful Earl of - Glenallan could have with the crimes or penitence of an old doting woman, - whose rank in life did not greatly exceed that of her messenger. He - endeavoured to call to memory all that he had ever known or heard of the - Glenallan family, yet, having done so, remained altogether unable to form - a conjecture on the subject. He knew that the whole extensive estate of - this ancient and powerful family had descended to the Countess, lately - deceased, who inherited, in a most remarkable degree, the stern, fierce, - and unbending character which had distinguished the house of Glenallan - since they first figured in Scottish annals. Like the rest of her - ancestors, she adhered zealously to the Roman Catholic faith, and was - married to an English gentleman of the same communion, and of large - fortune, who did not survive their union two years. The Countess was, - therefore, left an early widow, with the uncontrolled management of the - large estates of her two sons. The elder, Lord Geraldin, who was to - succeed to the title and fortune of Glenallan, was totally dependent on - his mother during her life. The second, when he came of age, assumed the - name and arms of his father, and took possession of his estate, according - to the provisions of the Countess's marriage-settlement. After this - period, he chiefly resided in England, and paid very few and brief visits - to his mother and brother; and these at length were altogether dispensed - with, in consequence of his becoming a convert to the reformed religion. - </p> - <p> - But even before this mortal offence was given to its mistress, his - residence at Glenallan offered few inducements to a gay young man like - Edward Geraldin Neville, though its gloom and seclusion seemed to suit the - retired and melancholy habits of his elder brother. Lord Geraldin, in the - outset of life, had been a young man of accomplishment and hopes. Those - who knew him upon his travels entertained the highest expectations of his - future career. But such fair dawns are often strangely overcast. The young - nobleman returned to Scotland, and after living about a year in his - mother's society at Glenallan House, he seemed to have adopted all the - stern gloom and melancholy of her character. Excluded from politics by the - incapacities attached to those of his religion, and from all lighter - avocationas by choice, Lord Geraldin led a life of the strictest - retirement. His ordinary society was composed of the clergyman of his - communion, who occasionally visited his mansion; and very rarely, upon - stated occasions of high festival, one or two families who still professed - the Catholic religion were formally entertained at Glenallan House. But - this was all; their heretic neighbours knew nothing of the family - whatever; and even the Catholics saw little more than the sumptuous - entertainment and solemn parade which was exhibited on those formal - occasions, from which all returned without knowing whether most to wonder - at the stern and stately demeanour of the Countess, or the deep and gloomy - dejection which never ceased for a moment to cloud the features of her - son. The late event had put him in possession of his fortune and title, - and the neighbourhood had already begun to conjecture whether gaiety would - revive with independence, when those who had some occasional acquaintance - with the interior of the family spread abroad a report, that the Earl's - constitution was undermined by religious austerities, and that in all - probability he would soon follow his mother to the grave. This event was - the more probable, as his brother had died of a lingering complaint, - which, in the latter years of his life, had affected at once his frame and - his spirits; so that heralds and genealogists were already looking back - into their records to discover the heir of this ill-fated family, and - lawyers were talking with gleesome anticipation, of the probability of a - "great Glenallan cause." - </p> - <p> - As Edie Ochiltree approached the front of Glenallan House,* an ancient - building of great extent, the most modern part of which had been designed - by the celebrated Inigo Jones, he began to consider in what way he should - be most likely to gain access for delivery of his message; and, after much - consideration, resolved to send the token to the Earl by one of the - domestics. - </p> - <p> - * [Supposed to represent Glammis Castle, in Forfarshire, with which the - Author was well acquainted.] - </p> - <p> - With this purpose he stopped at a cottage, where he obtained the means of - making up the ring in a sealed packet like a petition, addressed, <i>Forr - his hounor the Yerl of Glenllan—These.</i> But being aware that - missives delivered at the doors of great houses by such persons as - himself, do not always make their way according to address, Edie - determined, like an old soldier, to reconnoitre the ground before he made - his final attack. As he approached the porter's lodge, he discovered, by - the number of poor ranked before it, some of them being indigent persons - in the vicinity, and others itinerants of his own begging profession,—that - there was about to be a general dole or distribution of charity. - </p> - <p> - "A good turn," said Edie to himself, "never goes unrewarded—I'll - maybe get a good awmous that I wad hae missed but for trotting on this - auld wife's errand." - </p> - <p> - Accordingly, he ranked up with the rest of this ragged regiment, assuming - a station as near the front as possible,—a distinction due, as he - conceived, to his blue gown and badge, no less than to his years and - experience; but he soon found there was another principle of precedence in - this assembly, to which he had not adverted. - </p> - <p> - "Are ye a triple man, friend, that ye press forward sae bauldly?—I'm - thinking no, for there's nae Catholics wear that badge." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, I am no a Roman," said Edie. - </p> - <p> - "Then shank yoursell awa to the double folk, or single folk, that's the - Episcopals or Presbyterians yonder: it's a shame to see a heretic hae sic - a lang white beard, that would do credit to a hermit." - </p> - <p> - Ochiltree, thus rejected from the society of the Catholic mendicants, or - those who called themselves such, went to station himself with the paupers - of the communion of the church of England, to whom the noble donor - allotted a double portion of his charity. But never was a poor occasional - conformist more roughly rejected by a High-church congregation, even when - that matter was furiously agitated in the days of good Queen Anne. - </p> - <p> - "See to him wi' his badge!" they said;—"he hears ane o' the king's - Presbyterian chaplains sough out a sermon on the morning of every - birth-day, and now he would pass himsell for ane o' the Episcopal church! - Na, na!—we'll take care o' that." - </p> - <p> - Edie, thus rejected by Rome and Prelacy, was fain to shelter himself from - the laughter of his brethren among the thin group of Presbyterians, who - had either disdained to disguise their religious opinions for the sake of - an augmented dole, or perhaps knew they could not attempt the imposition - without a certainty of detection. - </p> - <p> - The same degree of precedence was observed in the mode of distributing the - charity, which consisted in bread, beef, and a piece of money, to each - individual of all the three classes. The almoner, an ecclesiastic of grave - appearance and demeanour, superintended in person the accommodation of the - Catholic mendicants, asking a question or two of each as he delivered the - charity, and recommending to their prayers the soul of Joscelind, late - Countess of Glenallan, mother of their benefactor. The porter, - distinguished by his long staff headed with silver, and by the black gown - tufted with lace of the same colour, which he had assumed upon the general - mourning in the family, overlooked the distribution of the dole among the - prelatists. The less-favoured kirk-folk were committed to the charge of an - aged domestic. - </p> - <p> - As this last discussed some disputed point with the porter, his name, as - it chanced to be occasionally mentioned, and then his features, struck - Ochiltree, and awakened recollections of former times. The rest of the - assembly were now retiring, when the domestic, again approaching the place - where Edie still lingered, said, in a strong Aberdeenshire accent, "Fat is - the auld feel-body deeing, that he canna gang avay, now that he's gotten - baith meat and siller?" - </p> - <p> - "Francis Macraw," answered Edie Ochiltree, "d'ye no mind Fontenoy, and - keep thegither front and rear?'" - </p> - <p> - "Ohon! ohon!" cried Francie, with a true north-country yell of - recognition, "naebody could hae said that word but my auld front-rank man, - Edie Ochiltree! But I'm sorry to see ye in sic a peer state, man." - </p> - <p> - "No sae ill aff as ye may think, Francis. But I'm laith to leave this - place without a crack wi' you, and I kenna when I may see you again, for - your folk dinna mak Protestants welcome, and that's ae reason that I hae - never been here before." - </p> - <p> - "Fusht, fusht," said Francie, "let that flee stick i' the wa'—when - the dirt's dry it will rub out;—and come you awa wi' me, and I'll - gie ye something better thau that beef bane, man." - </p> - <p> - Having then spoke a confidential word with the porter (probably to request - his connivance), and having waited until the almoner had returned into the - house with slow and solemn steps, Francie Macraw introduced his old - comrade into the court of Glenallan House, the gloomy gateway of which was - surmounted by a huge scutcheon, in which the herald and undertaker had - mingled, as usual, the emblems of human pride and of human nothingness,—the - Countess's hereditary coat-of-arms, with all its numerous quarterings, - disposed in a lozenge, and surrounded by the separate shields of her - paternal and maternal ancestry, intermingled with scythes, hour glasses, - skulls, and other symbols of that mortality which levels all distinctions. - Conducting his friend as speedily as possible along the large paved court, - Macraw led the way through a side-door to a small apartment near the - servants' hall, which, in virtue of his personal attendance upon the Earl - of Glenallan, he was entitled to call his own. To produce cold meat of - various kinds, strong beer, and even a glass of spirits, was no difficulty - to a person of Francis's importance, who had not lost, in his sense of - conscious dignity, the keen northern prudence which recommended a good - understanding with the butler. Our mendicant envoy drank ale, and talked - over old stories with his comrade, until, no other topic of conversation - occurring, he resolved to take up the theme of his embassy, which had for - some time escaped his memory. - </p> - <p> - "He had a petition to present to the Earl," he said;—for he judged - it prudent to say nothing of the ring, not knowing, as he afterwards - observed, how far the manners of a single soldier* might have been - corrupted by service in a great house. - </p> - <p> - * A single soldier means, in Scotch, a private soldier. - </p> - <p> - "Hout, tout, man," said Francie, "the Earl will look at nae petitions— - but I can gie't to the almoner." - </p> - <p> - "But it relates to some secret, that maybe my lord wad like best to see't - himsell." - </p> - <p> - "I'm jeedging that's the very reason that the almoner will be for seeing - it the first and foremost." - </p> - <p> - "But I hae come a' this way on purpose to deliver it, Francis, and ye - really maun help me at a pinch." - </p> - <p> - "Neer speed then if I dinna," answered the Aberdeenshire man: "let them be - as cankered as they like, they can but turn me awa, and I was just - thinking to ask my discharge, and gang down to end my days at Inverurie." - </p> - <p> - With this doughty resolution of serving his friend at all ventures, since - none was to be encountered which could much inconvenience himself, Francie - Macraw left the apartment. It was long before he returned, and when he - did, his manner indicated wonder and agitation. - </p> - <p> - "I am nae seer gin ye be Edie Ochiltree o' Carrick's company in the - Forty-twa, or gin ye be the deil in his likeness!" - </p> - <p> - "And what makes ye speak in that gait?" demanded the astonished mendicant. - </p> - <p> - "Because my lord has been in sic a distress and surpreese as I neer saw a - man in my life. But he'll see you—I got that job cookit. He was like - a man awa frae himsell for mony minutes, and I thought he wad hae swarv't - a'thegither,—and fan he cam to himsell, he asked fae brought the - packet—and fat trow ye I said?" - </p> - <p> - "An auld soger," says Edie—"that does likeliest at a gentle's door; - at a farmer's it's best to say ye're an auld tinkler, if ye need ony - quarters, for maybe the gudewife will hae something to souther." - </p> - <p> - "But I said neer ane o' the twa," answered Francis; "my lord cares as - little about the tane as the tother—for he's best to them that can - souther up our sins. Sae I e'en said the bit paper was brought by an auld - man wi' a long fite beard—he might be a capeechin freer for fat I - ken'd, for he was dressed like an auld palmer. Sae ye'll be sent up for - fanever he can find mettle to face ye." - </p> - <p> - "I wish I was weel through this business," thought Edie to himself; "mony - folk surmise that the Earl's no very right in the judgment, and wha can - say how far he may be offended wi' me for taking upon me sae muckle?" - </p> - <p> - But there was now no room for retreat—a bell sounded from a distant - part of the mansion, and Macraw said, with a smothered accent, as if - already in his master's presence, "That's my lord's bell!—follow me, - and step lightly and cannily, Edie." - </p> - <p> - Edie followed his guide, who seemed to tread as if afraid of being - overheard, through a long passage, and up a back stair, which admitted - them into the family apartments. They were ample and extensive, furnished - at such cost as showed the ancient importance and splendour of the family. - But all the ornaments were in the taste of a former and distant period, - and one would have almost supposed himself traversing the halls of a - Scottish nobleman before the union of the crowns. The late Countess, - partly from a haughty contempt of the times in which she lived, partly - from her sense of family pride, had not permitted the furniture to be - altered or modernized during her residence at Glenallan House. The most - magnificent part of the decorations was a valuable collection of pictures - by the best masters, whose massive frames were somewhat tarnished by time. - In this particular also the gloomy taste of the family seemed to - predominate. There were some fine family portraits by Vandyke and other - masters of eminence; but the collection was richest in the Saints and - Martyrdoms of Domenichino, Velasquez, and Murillo, and other subjects of - the same kind, which had been selected in preference to landscapes or - historical pieces. The manner in which these awful, and sometimes - disgusting, subjects were represented, harmonized with the gloomy state of - the apartments,—a circumstance which was not altogether lost on the - old man, as he traversed them under the guidance of his quondam - fellow-soldier. He was about to express some sentiment of this kind, but - Francie imposed silence on him by signs, and opening a door at the end of - the long picture-gallery, ushered him into a small antechamber hung with - black. Here they found the almoner, with his ear turned to a door opposite - that by which they entered, in the attitude of one who listens with - attention, but is at the same time afraid of being detected in the act. - </p> - <p> - The old domestic and churchman started when they perceived each other. But - the almoner first recovered his recollection, and advancing towards - Macraw, said, under his breath, but with an authoritative tone, "How dare - you approach the Earl's apartment without knocking? and who is this - stranger, or what has he to do here?—Retire to the gallery, and wait - for me there." - </p> - <p> - "It's impossible just now to attend your reverence," answered Macraw, - raising his voice so as to be heard in the next room, being conscious that - the priest would not maintain the altercation within hearing of his - patron,—"the Earl's bell has rung." - </p> - <p> - He had scarce uttered the words, when it was rung again with greater - violence than before; and the ecclesiastic, perceiving further - expostulation impossible, lifted his finger at Macraw, with a menacing - attitude, as he left the apartment. - </p> - <p> - "I tell'd ye sae," said the Aberdeen man in a whisper to Edie, and then - proceeded to open the door near which they had observed the chaplain - stationed. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0007" id="Alink2HCH0007"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SEVENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —This ring.— - This little ring, with necromantic force, - Has raised the ghost of pleasure to my fears, - Conjured the sense of honour and of love - Into such shapes, they fright me from myself. - The Fatal Marriage. -</pre> - <p> - The ancient forms of mourning were observed in Glenallan House, - notwithstanding the obduracy with which the members of the family were - popularly supposed to refuse to the dead the usual tribute of lamentation. - It was remarked, that when she received the fatal letter announcing the - death of her second, and, as was once believed, her favourite son, the - hand of the Countess did not shake, nor her eyelid twinkle, any more than - upon perusal of a letter of ordinary business. Heaven only knows whether - the suppression of maternal sorrow, which her pride commanded, might not - have some effect in hastening her own death. It was at least generally - supposed that the apoplectic stroke, which so soon afterwards terminated - her existence, was, as it were, the vengeance of outraged Nature for the - restraint to which her feelings had been subjected. But although Lady - Glenallan forebore the usual external signs of grief, she had caused many - of the apartments, amongst others her own and that of the Earl, to be hung - with the exterior trappings of woe. - </p> - <p> - The Earl of Glenallan was therefore seated in an apartment hung with black - cloth, which waved in dusky folds along its lofty walls. A screen, also - covered with black baize, placed towards the high and narrow window, - intercepted much of the broken light which found its way through the - stained glass, that represented, with such skill as the fourteenth century - possessed, the life and sorrows of the prophet Jeremiah. The table at - which the Earl was seated was lighted with two lamps wrought in silver, - shedding that unpleasant and doubtful light which arises from the mingling - of artificial lustre with that of general daylight. The same table - displayed a silver crucifix, and one or two clasped parchment books. A - large picture, exquisitely painted by Spagnoletto, represented the - martyrdom of St. Stephen, and was the only ornament of the apartment. - </p> - <p> - The inhabitant and lord of this disconsolate chamber was a man not past - the prime of life, yet so broken down with disease and mental misery, so - gaunt and ghastly, that he appeared but a wreck of manhood; and when he - hastily arose and advanced towards his visitor, the exertion seemed almost - to overpower his emaciated frame. As they met in the midst of the - apartment, the contrast they exhibited was very striking. The hale cheek, - firm step, erect stature, and undaunted presence and bearing of the old - mendicant, indicated patience and content in the extremity of age, and in - the lowest condition to which humanity can sink; while the sunken eye, - pallid cheek, and tottering form of the nobleman with whom he was - confronted, showed how little wealth, power, and even the advantages of - youth, have to do with that which gives repose to the mind, and firmness - to the frame. - </p> - <p> - The Earl met the old man in the middle of the room, and having commanded - his attendant to withdraw into the gallery, and suffer no one to enter the - antechamber till he rung the bell, awaited, with hurried yet fearful - impatience, until he heard first the door of his apartment, and then that - of the antechamber, shut and fastened by the spring-bolt. When he was - satisfied with this security against being overheard, Lord Glenallan came - close up to the mendicant, whom he probably mistook for some person of a - religious order in disguise, and said, in a hasty yet faltering tone, "In - the name of all our religion holds most holy, tell me, reverend father, - what am I to expect from a communication opened by a token connected with - such horrible recollections?" - </p> - <p> - The old man, appalled by a manner so different from what he had expected - from the proud and powerful nobleman, was at a loss how to answer, and in - what manner to undeceive him. "Tell me," continued the Earl, in a tone of - increasing trepidation and agony—"tell me, do you come to say that - all that has been done to expiate guilt so horrible, has been too little - and too trivial for the offence, and to point out new and more efficacious - modes of severe penance?—I will not blench from it, father—let - me suffer the pains of my crime here in the body, rather than hereafter in - the spirit!" - </p> - <p> - Edie had now recollection enough to perceive, that if he did not interrupt - the frankness of Lord Glenallan's admissions, he was likely to become the - confidant of more than might be safe for him to know. He therefore uttered - with a hasty and trembling voice—"Your lordship's honour is mistaken—I - am not of your persuasion, nor a clergyman, but, with all reverence, only - puir Edie Ochiltree, the king's bedesman and your honour's." - </p> - <p> - This explanation he accompanied by a profound bow after his manner, and - then, drawing himself up erect, rested his arm on his staff, threw back - his long white hair, and fixed his eyes upon the Earl, as he waited for an - answer. - </p> - <p> - "And you are not then," said Lord Glenallan, after a pause of surprise— - "You are not then a Catholic priest?" - </p> - <p> - "God forbid!" said Edie, forgetting in his confusion to whom he was - speaking; "I am only the king's bedesman and your honour's, as I said - before." - </p> - <p> - The Earl turned hastily away, and paced the room twice or thrice, as if to - recover the effects of his mistake, and then, coming close up to the - mendicant, he demanded, in a stern and commanding tone, what he meant by - intruding himself on his privacy, and from whence he had got the ring - which he had thought proper to send him. Edie, a man of much spirit, was - less daunted at this mode of interrogation than he had been confused by - the tone of confidence in which the Earl had opened their conversation. To - the reiterated question from whom he had obtained the ring, he answered - composedly, "From one who was better known to the Earl than to him." - </p> - <p> - "Better known to me, fellow?" said Lord Glenallan: "what is your meaning?—explain - yourself instantly, or you shall experience the consequence of breaking in - upon the hours of family distress." - </p> - <p> - "It was auld Elspeth Mucklebackit that sent me here," said the beggar, "in - order to say"— - </p> - <p> - "You dote, old man!" said the Earl; "I never heard the name—but this - dreadful token reminds me"— - </p> - <p> - "I mind now, my lord," said Ochiltree, "she tauld me your lordship would - be mair familiar wi' her, if I ca'd her Elspeth o' the Craigburnfoot—she - had that name when she lived on your honour's land, that is, your honour's - worshipful mother's that was then—Grace be wi' her!" - </p> - <p> - "Ay," said the appalled nobleman, as his countenance sunk, and his cheek - assumed a hue yet more cadaverous; "that name is indeed written in the - most tragic page of a deplorable history. But what can she desire of me? - Is she dead or living?" - </p> - <p> - "Living, my lord; and entreats to see your lordship before she dies, for - she has something to communicate that hangs upon her very soul, and she - says she canna flit in peace until she sees you." - </p> - <p> - "Not until she sees me!—what can that mean? But she is doting with - age and infirmity. I tell thee, friend, I called at her cottage myself, - not a twelvemonth since, from a report that she was in distress, and she - did not even know my face or voice." - </p> - <p> - "If your honour wad permit me," said Edie, to whom the length of the - conference restored a part of his professional audacity and native - talkativeness—"if your honour wad but permit me, I wad say, under - correction of your lordship's better judgment, that auld Elspeth's like - some of the ancient ruined strengths and castles that ane sees amang the - hills. There are mony parts of her mind that appear, as I may say, laid - waste and decayed, but then there's parts that look the steever, and the - stronger, and the grander, because they are rising just like to fragments - amaong the ruins o' the rest. She's an awful woman." - </p> - <p> - "She always was so," said the Earl, almost unconsciously echoing the - observation of the mendicant; "she always was different from other women—likest - perhaps to her who is now no more, in her temper and turn of mind.—She - wishes to see me, then?" - </p> - <p> - "Before she dies," said Edie, "she earnestly entreats that pleasure." - </p> - <p> - "It will be a pleasure to neither of us," said the Earl, sternly, "yet she - shall be gratified. She lives, I think, on the sea-shore to the southward - of Fairport?" - </p> - <p> - "Just between Monkbarns and Knockwinnock Castle, but nearer to Monkbarns. - Your lordship's honour will ken the laird and Sir Arthur, doubtless?" - </p> - <p> - A stare, as if he did not comprehend the question, was Lord Glenallan's - answer. Edie saw his mind was elsewhere, and did not venture to repeat a - query which was so little germain to the matter. - </p> - <p> - "Are you a Catholic, old man?" demanded the Earl. - </p> - <p> - "No, my lord," said Ochiltree stoutly; for the remembrance of the unequal - division of the dole rose in his mind at the moment; "I thank Heaven I am - a good Protestant." - </p> - <p> - "He who can conscientiously call himself <i>good,</i> has indeed reason to - thank Heaven, be his form of Christianity what it will—But who is he - that shall dare to do so!" - </p> - <p> - "Not I," said Edie; "I trust to beware of the sin of presumption." - </p> - <p> - "What was your trade in your youth?" continued the Earl. - </p> - <p> - "A soldier, my lord; and mony a sair day's kemping I've seen. I was to - have been made a sergeant, but"— - </p> - <p> - "A soldier! then you have slain and burnt, and sacked and spoiled?" - </p> - <p> - "I winna say," replied Edie, "that I have been better than my neighbours;—it's - a rough trade—war's sweet to them that never tried it." - </p> - <p> - "And you are now old and miserable, asking from precarious charity the - food which in your youth you tore from the hand of the poor peasant?" - </p> - <p> - "I am a beggar, it is true, my lord; but I am nae just sae miserable - neither. For my sins, I hae had grace to repent of them, if I might say - sae, and to lay them where they may be better borne than by me; and for my - food, naebody grudges an auld man a bit and a drink—Sae I live as I - can, and am contented to die when I am ca'd upon." - </p> - <p> - "And thus, then, with little to look back upon that is pleasant or - praiseworthy in your past life—with less to look forward to on this - side of eternity, you are contented to drag out the rest of your - existence? Go, begone! and in your age and poverty and weariness, never - envy the lord of such a mansion as this, either in his sleeping or waking - moments—Here is something for thee." - </p> - <p> - The Earl put into the old man's hand five or six guineas. Edie would - perhaps have stated his scruples, as upon other occasions, to the amount - of the benefaction, but the tone of Lord Glenallan was too absolute to - admit of either answer or dispute. The Earl then called his servant—"See - this old man safe from the castle—let no one ask him any questions—and - you, friend, begone, and forget the road that leads to my house." - </p> - <p> - "That would be difficult for me," said Edie, looking at the gold which he - still held in his hand, "that would be e'en difficult, since your honour - has gien me such gade cause to remember it." - </p> - <p> - Lord Glenallan stared, as hardly comprehending the old man's boldness in - daring to bandy words with him, and, with his hand, made him another - signal of departure, which the mendicant instantly obeyed. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0008" id="Alink2HCH0008"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER EIGHTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - For he was one in all their idle sport, - And like a monarch, ruled their little court - The pliant bow he formed, the flying ball, - The bat, the wicket, were his labours all. - Crabbe's Village. -</pre> - <p> - Francis Macraw, agreeably to the commands of his master, attended the - mendicant, in order to see him fairly out of the estate, without - permitting him to have conversation, or intercourse, with any of the - Earl's dependents or domestics. But, judiciously considering that the - restriction did not extend to himself, who was the person entrusted with - the convoy, he used every measure in his power to extort from Edie the - nature of his confidential and secret interview with Lord Glenallan. But - Edie had been in his time accustomed to cross-examination, and easily - evaded those of his quondam comrade. "The secrets of grit folk," said - Ochiltree within himself, "are just like the wild beasts that are shut up - in cages. Keep them hard and fast sneaked up, and it's a' very weel or - better—but ance let them out, they will turn and rend you. I mind - how ill Dugald Gunn cam aff for letting loose his tongue about the Major's - leddy and Captain Bandilier." - </p> - <p> - Francis was therefore foiled in his assaults upon the fidelity of the - mendicant, and, like an indifferent chess-player, became, at every - unsuccessful movement, more liable to the counter-checks of his opponent. - </p> - <p> - "Sae ye uphauld ye had nae particulars to say to my lord but about yer ain - matters?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, and about the wee bits o' things I had brought frae abroad," said - Edie. "I ken'd you popist folk are unco set on the relics that are fetched - frae far-kirks and sae forth." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, my Lord maun be turned feel outright," said the domestic, "an he - puts himsell into sic a carfuffle, for onything ye could bring him, Edie." - </p> - <p> - "I doubtna ye may say true in the main, neighbour," replied the beggar; - "but maybe he's had some hard play in his younger days, Francis, and that - whiles unsettles folk sair." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, Edie, and ye may say that—and since it's like yell neer come - back to the estate, or, if ye dee, that ye'll no find me there, I'se e'en - tell you he had a heart in his young time sae wrecked and rent, that it's - a wonder it hasna broken outright lang afore this day." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, say ye sae?" said Ochiltree; "that maun hae been about a woman, I - reckon?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth, and ye hae guessed it," said Francie—"jeest a cusin o' his - nain—Miss Eveline Neville, as they suld hae ca'd her;—there - was a sough in the country about it, but it was hushed up, as the grandees - were concerned;—it's mair than twenty years syne—ay, it will - be three-and-twenty." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, I was in America then," said the mendicant, "and no in the way to - hear the country clashes." - </p> - <p> - "There was little clash about it, man," replied Macraw; "he liked this - young leddy, ana suld hae married her, but his mother fand it out, and - then the deil gaed o'er Jock Webster. At last, the peer lass clodded - hersell o'er the scaur at the Craigburnfoot into the sea, and there was an - end o't." - </p> - <p> - "An end o't wi' the puir leddy," said the mendicant, "but, as I reckon, - nae end o't wi' the yerl." - </p> - <p> - "Nae end o't till his life makes an end," answered the Aberdonian. - </p> - <p> - "But what for did the auld Countess forbid the marriage?" continued the - persevering querist. - </p> - <p> - "Fat for!—she maybe didna weel ken for fat hersell, for she gar'd a' - bow to her bidding, right or wrang—But it was ken'd the young leddy - was inclined to some o' the heresies of the country—mair by token, - she was sib to him nearer than our Church's rule admits of. Sae the leddy - was driven to the desperate act, and the yerl has never since held his - head up like a man." - </p> - <p> - "Weel away!" replied Ochiltree:—"it's e'en queer I neer heard this - tale afore." - </p> - <p> - "It's e'en queer that ye heard it now, for deil ane o' the servants durst - hae spoken o't had the auld Countess been living. Eh, man, Edie! but she - was a trimmer—it wad hae taen a skeely man to hae squared wi' her!—But - she's in her grave, and we may loose our tongues a bit fan we meet a - friend.—But fare ye weel, Edie—I maun be back to the - evening-service. An' ye come to Inverurie maybe sax months awa, dinna - forget to ask after Francie Macraw." - </p> - <p> - What one kindly pressed, the other as firmly promised; and the friends - having thus parted, with every testimony of mutual regard, the domestic of - Lord Glenallan took his road back to the seat of his master, leaving - Ochiltree to trace onward his habitual pilgrimage. - </p> - <p> - It was a fine summer evening, and the world—that is, the little - circle which was all in all to the individual by whom it was trodden, lay - before Edie Ochiltree, for the choosing of his night's quarters. When he - had passed the less hospitable domains of Glenallan, he had in his option - so many places of refuge for the evening, that he was nice, and even - fastidious in the choice. Ailie Sim's public was on the road-side about a - mile before him, but there would be a parcel of young fellows there on the - Saturday night, and that was a bar to civil conversation. Other "gudemen - and gudewives," as the farmers and their dames are termed in Scotland, - successively presented themselves to his imagination. But one was deaf, - and could not hear him; another toothless, and could not make him hear; a - third had a cross temper; and a fourth an ill-natured house-dog. At - Monkbarns or Knockwinnock he was sure of a favourable and hospitable - reception; but they lay too distant to be conveniently reached that night. - </p> - <p> - "I dinna ken how it is," said the old man, "but I am nicer about my - quarters this night than ever I mind having been in my life. I think, - having seen a' the braws yonder, and finding out ane may be happier - without them, has made me proud o' my ain lot—But I wuss it bode me - gude, for pride goeth before destruction. At ony rate, the warst barn e'er - man lay in wad be a pleasanter abode than Glenallan House, wi' a' the - pictures and black velvet, and silver bonny-wawlies belonging to it— - Sae I'll e'en settle at ance, and put in for Ailie Sims." - </p> - <p> - As the old man descended the hill above the little hamlet to which he was - bending his course, the setting sun had relieved its inmates from their - labour, and the young men, availing themselves of the fine evening, were - engaged in the sport of long-bowls on a patch of common, while the women - and elders looked on. The shout, the laugh, the exclamations of winners - and losers, came in blended chorus up the path which Ochiltree was - descending, and awakened in his recollection the days when he himself had - been a keen competitor, and frequently victor, in games of strength and - agility. These remembrances seldom fail to excite a sigh, even when the - evening of life is cheered by brighter prospects than those of our poor - mendicant. "At that time of day," was his natural reflection, "I would - have thought as little about ony auld palmering body that was coming down - the edge of Kinblythemont, as ony o' thae stalwart young chiels does - e'enow about auld Edie Ochiltree." - </p> - <p> - He was, however, presently cheered, by finding that more importance was - attached to his arrival than his modesty had anticipated. A disputed cast - had occurred between the bands of players, and as the gauger favoured the - one party, and the schoolmaster the other, the matter might be said to be - taken up by the higher powers. The miller and smith, also, had espoused - different sides, and, considering the vivacity of two such disputants, - there was reason to doubt whether the strife might be amicably terminated. - But the first person who caught a sight of the mendicant exclaimed, "Ah! - here comes auld Edie, that kens the rules of a' country games better than - ony man that ever drave a bowl, or threw an axle-tree, or putted a stane - either;—let's hae nae quarrelling, callants—we'll stand by - auld Edie's judgment." - </p> - <p> - Edie was accordingly welcomed, and installed as umpire, with a general - shout of gratulation. With all the modesty of a Bishop to whom the mitre - is proffered, or of a new Speaker called to the chair, the old man - declined the high trust and responsibility with which it was proposed to - invest him, and, in requital for his self-denial and humility, had the - pleasure of receiving the reiterated assurances of young, old, and - middle-aged, that he was simply the best qualified person for the office - of arbiter "in the haill country-side." Thus encouraged, he proceeded - gravely to the execution of his duty, and, strictly forbidding all - aggravating expressions on either side, he heard the smith and gauger on - one side, the miller and schoolmaster on the other, as junior and senior - counsel. Edie's mind, however, was fully made up on the subject before the - pleading began; like that of many a judge, who must nevertheless go - through all the forms, and endure in its full extent the eloquence and - argumentation of the Bar. For when all had been said on both sides, and - much of it said over oftener than once, our senior, being well and ripely - advised, pronounced the moderate and healing judgment, that the disputed - cast was a drawn one, and should therefore count to neither party. This - judicious decision restored concord to the field of players; they began - anew to arrange their match and their bets, with the clamorous mirth usual - on such occasions of village sport, and the more eager were already - stripping their jackets, and committing them, with their coloured - handkerchiefs, to the care of wives, sisters, and mistresses. But their - mirth was singularly interrupted. - </p> - <p> - On the outside of the group of players began to arise sounds of a - description very different from those of sport—that sort of - suppressed sigh and exclamation, with which the first news of calamity is - received by the hearers, began to be heard indistinctly. A buzz went about - among the women of "Eh, sirs! sae young and sae suddenly summoned!"—It - then extended itself among the men, and silenced the sounds of sportive - mirth. - </p> - <p> - All understood at once that some disaster had happened in the country, and - each inquired the cause at his neighbour, who knew as little as the - querist. At length the rumour reached, in a distinct shape, the ears of - Edie Ochiltree, who was in the very centre of the assembly. The boat of - Mucklebackit, the fisherman whom we have so often mentioned, had been - swamped at sea, and four men had perished, it was affirmed, including - Mucklebackit and his son. Rumour had in this, however, as in other cases, - gone beyond the truth. The boat had indeed been overset; but Stephen, or, - as he was called, Steenie Mucklebackit, was the only man who had been - drowned. Although the place of his residence and his mode of life removed - the young man from the society of the country folks, yet they failed not - to pause in their rustic mirth to pay that tribute to sudden calamity - which it seldom fails to receive in cases of infrequent occurrence. To - Ochiltree, in particular, the news came like a knell, the rather that he - had so lately engaged this young man's assistance in an affair of sportive - mischief; and though neither loss nor injury was designed to the German - adept, yet the work was not precisely one in which the latter hours of - life ought to be occupied. - </p> - <p> - Misfortunes never come alone. While Ochiltree, pensively leaning upon his - staff, added his regrets to those of the hamlet which bewailed the young - man's sudden death, and internally blamed himself for the transaction in - which he had so lately engaged him, the old man's collar was seized by a - peace-officer, who displayed his baton in his right hand, and exclaimed, - "In the king's name." - </p> - <p> - The gauger and schoolmaster united their rhetoric, to prove to the - constable and his assistant that he had no right to arrest the king's - bedesman as a vagrant; and the mute eloquence of the miller and smith, - which was vested in their clenched fists, was prepared to give Highland - bail for their arbiter; his blue gown, they said, was his warrant for - travelling the country. - </p> - <p> - "But his blue gown," answered the officer, "is nae protection for assault, - robbery, and murder; and my warrant is against him for these crimes." - </p> - <p> - "Murder!" said Edie, "murder! wha did I e'er murder?" - </p> - <p> - "Mr. German Doustercivil, the agent at Glen-Withershins mining-works." - </p> - <p> - "Murder Doustersnivel?—hout, he's living, and life-like, man." - </p> - <p> - "Nae thanks to you if he be; he had a sair struggle for his life, if a' be - true he tells, and ye maun answer for't at the bidding of the law." - </p> - <p> - The defenders of the mendicant shrunk back at hearing the atrocity of the - charges against him, but more than one kind hand thrust meat and bread and - pence upon Edie, to maintain him in the prison, to which the officers were - about to conduct him. - </p> - <p> - "Thanks to ye! God bless ye a', bairns!—I've gotten out o' mony a - snare when I was waur deserving o' deliverance—I shall escape like a - bird from the fowler. Play out your play, and never mind me—I am - mair grieved for the puir lad that's gane, than for aught they can do to - me." - </p> - <p> - Accordingly, the unresisting prisoner was led off, while he mechanically - accepted and stored in his wallets the alms which poured in on every hand, - and ere he left the hamlet, was as deep-laden as a government victualler. - The labour of bearing this accumulating burden was, however, abridged, by - the officer procuring a cart and horse to convey the old man to a - magistrate, in order to his examination and committal. - </p> - <p> - The disaster of Steenie, and the arrest of Edie, put a stop to the sports - of the village, the pensive inhabitants of which began to speculate upon - the vicissitudes of human affairs, which had so suddenly consigned one of - their comrades to the grave, and placed their master of the revels in some - danger of being hanged. The character of Dousterswivel being pretty - generally known, which was in his case equivalent to being pretty - generally detested, there were many speculations upon the probability of - the accusation being malicious. But all agreed, that if Edie Ochiltree - behoved in all events to suffer upon this occasion, it was a great pity he - had not better merited his fate by killing Dousterswivel outright. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0009" id="Alink2HCH0009"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER NINTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Who is he?—One that for the lack of land - Shall fight upon the water—he hath challenged - Formerly the grand whale; and by his titles - Of Leviathan, Behemoth, and so forth. - He tilted with a sword-fish—Marry, sir, - Th' aquatic had the best—the argument - Still galls our champion's breech. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - "And the poor young fellow, Steenie Mucklebackit, is to be buried this - morning," said our old friend the Antiquary, as he exchanged his quilted - night-gown for an old-fashioned black coat in lieu of the snuff-coloured - vestment which he ordinarily wore, "and, I presume, it is expected that I - should attend the funeral?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, ay," answered the faithful Caxon, officiously brushing the white - threads and specks from his patron's habit. "The body, God help us! was - sae broken against the rocks that they're fain to hurry the burial. The - sea's a kittle cast, as I tell my daughter, puir thing, when I want her to - get up her spirits; the sea, says I, Jenny, is as uncertain a calling"— - </p> - <p> - "As the calling of an old periwig-maker, that's robbed of his business by - crops and the powder-tax. Caxon, thy topics of consolation are as ill - chosen as they are foreign to the present purpose. <i>Quid mihi cum - faemina</i>? What have I to do with thy womankind, who have enough and to - spare of mine own?—I pray of you again, am I expected by these poor - people to attend the funeral of their son?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, doubtless, your honour is expected," answered Caxon; "weel I wot ye - are expected. Ye ken, in this country ilka gentleman is wussed to be sae - civil as to see the corpse aff his grounds; ye needna gang higher than the - loan-head—it's no expected your honour suld leave the land; it's - just a Kelso convoy, a step and a half ower the doorstane." - </p> - <p> - "A Kelso convoy!" echoed the inquisitive Antiquary; "and why a Kelso - convoy more than any other?" - </p> - <p> - "Dear sir," answered Caxon, "how should I ken? it's just a by-word." - </p> - <p> - "Caxon," answered Oldbuck, "thou art a mere periwig-maker—Had I - asked Ochiltree the question, he would have had a legend ready made to my - hand." - </p> - <p> - "My business," replied Caxon, with more animation than he commonly - displayed, "is with the outside of your honour's head, as ye are - accustomed to say." - </p> - <p> - "True, Caxon, true; and it is no reproach to a thatcher that he is not an - upholsterer." - </p> - <p> - He then took out his memorandum-book and wrote down "Kelso convoy—said - to be a step and a half over the threshold. Authority—Caxon.—<i>Quaere</i>— - Whence derived? <i>Mem.</i> To write to Dr. Graysteel upon the subject." - </p> - <p> - Having made this entry, he resumed—"And truly, as to this custom of - the landlord attending the body of the peasant, I approve it, Caxon. It - comes from ancient times, and was founded deep in the notions of mutual - aid and dependence between the lord and cultivator of the soil. And herein - I must say, the feudal system—(as also in its courtesy towards - womankind, in which it exceeded)—herein, I say, the feudal usages - mitigated and softened the sternness of classical times. No man, Caxon, - ever heard of a Spartan attending the funeral of a Helot—yet I dare - be sworn that John of the Girnel—ye have heard of him, Caxon?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay, sir," answered Caxon; "naebody can hae been lang in your honour's - company without hearing of that gentleman." - </p> - <p> - "Well," continued the Antiquary, "I would bet a trifle there was not a <i>kolb - kerl,</i> or bondsman, or peasant, <i>ascriptus glebae,</i> died upon the - monks' territories down here, but John of the Girnel saw them fairly and - decently interred." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, but if it like your honour, they say he had mair to do wi' the births - than the burials. Ha! ha! ha!" with a gleeful chuckle. - </p> - <p> - "Good, Caxon, very good!—why, you shine this morning." - </p> - <p> - "And besides," added Caxon, slyly, encouraged by his patron's approbation, - "they say, too, that the Catholic priests in thae times gat something for - ganging about to burials." - </p> - <p> - "Right, Caxon! right as my glove! By the by, I fancy that phrase comes - from the custom of pledging a glove as the signal of irrefragable faith— - right, I say, as my glove, Caxon—but we of the Protestant ascendency - have the more merit in doing that duty for nothing, which cost money in - the reign of that empress of superstition, whom Spenser, Caxon, terms in - his allegorical phrase, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —The daughter of that woman blind, - Abessa, daughter of Corecca slow— -</pre> - <p> - But why talk I of these things to thee?—my poor Lovel has spoiled - me, and taught me to speak aloud when it is much the same as speaking to - myself. Where's my nephew, Hector M'Intyre?" - </p> - <p> - "He's in the parlour, sir, wi' the leddies." - </p> - <p> - "Very well," said the Antiquary, "I will betake me thither." - </p> - <p> - "Now, Monkbarns," said his sister, on his entering the parlour, "ye maunna - be angry." - </p> - <p> - "My dear uncle!" began Miss M'Intyre. - </p> - <p> - "What's the meaning of all this?" said Oldbuck, in alarm of some impending - bad news, and arguing upon the supplicating tone of the ladies, as a - fortress apprehends an attack from the very first flourish of the trumpet - which announces the summons—"what's all this?—what do you - bespeak my patience for?" - </p> - <p> - "No particular matter, I should hope, sir," said Hector, who, with his arm - in a sling, was seated at the breakfast table;—"however, whatever it - may amount to I am answerable for it, as I am for much more trouble that I - have occasioned, and for which I have little more than thanks to offer." - </p> - <p> - "No, no! heartily welcome, heartily welcome—only let it be a warning - to you," said the Antiquary, "against your fits of anger, which is a short - madness—<i>Ira furor brevis</i>—but what is this new - disaster?" - </p> - <p> - "My dog, sir, has unfortunately thrown down"— - </p> - <p> - "If it please Heaven, not the lachrymatory from Clochnaben!" interjected - Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, uncle," said the young lady, "I am afraid—it was that which - stood upon the sideboard—the poor thing only meant to eat the pat of - fresh butter." - </p> - <p> - "In which she has fully succeeded, I presume, for I see that on the table - is salted. But that is nothing—my lachrymatory, the main pillar of - my theory on which I rested to show, in despite of the ignorant obstinacy - of Mac-Cribb, that the Romans had passed the defiles of these mountains, - and left behind them traces of their arts and arms, is gone—annihilated—reduced - to such fragments as might be the shreds of a broken-flowerpot! - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —Hector, I love thee, - But never more be officer of mine." -</pre> - <p> - "Why, really, sir, I am afraid I should make a bad figure in a regiment of - your raising." - </p> - <p> - "At least, Hector, I would have you despatch your camp train, and travel - <i>expeditus,</i> or <i>relictis impedimentis.</i> You cannot conceive how - I am annoyed by this beast—she commits burglary, I believe, for I - heard her charged with breaking into the kitchen after all the doors were - locked, and eating up a shoulder of mutton. "—(Our readers, if they - chance to remember Jenny Rintherout's precaution of leaving the door open - when she went down to the fisher's cottage, will probably acquit poor Juno - of that aggravation of guilt which the lawyers call a <i>claustrum fregit,</i> - and which makes the distinction between burglary and privately stealing. ) - </p> - <p> - "I am truly sorry, sir," said Hector, "that Juno has committed so much - disorder; but Jack Muirhead, the breaker, was never able to bring her - under command. She has more travel than any bitch I ever knew, but"— - </p> - <p> - "Then, Hector, I wish the bitch would travel herself out of my grounds." - </p> - <p> - "We will both of us retreat to-morrow, or to-day, but I would not - willingly part from my mother's brother in unkindness about a paltry - pipkin." - </p> - <p> - "O brother! brother!" ejaculated Miss M'Intyre, in utter despair at this - vituperative epithet. - </p> - <p> - "Why, what would you have me call it?" continued Hector; "it was just such - a thing as they use in Egypt to cool wine, or sherbet, or water;—I - brought home a pair of them—I might have brought home twenty." - </p> - <p> - "What!" said Oldbuck, "shaped such as that your dog threw down?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, sir, much such a sort of earthen jar as that which was on the - sideboard. They are in my lodgings at Fairport; we brought a parcel of - them to cool our wine on the passage—they answer wonderfully well. - If I could think they would in any degree repay your loss, or rather that - they could afford you pleasure, I am sure I should be much honoured by - your accepting them." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, my dear boy, I should be highly gratified by possessing them. To - trace the connection of nations by their usages, and the similarity of the - implements which they employ, has been long my favourite study. Everything - that can illustrate such connections is most valuable to me." - </p> - <p> - "Well, sir, I shall be much gratified by your acceptance of them, and a - few trifles of the same kind. And now, am I to hope you have forgiven me?" - </p> - <p> - "O, my dear boy, you are only thoughtless and foolish." - </p> - <p> - "But Juno—she is only thoughtless too, I assure you—the - breaker tells me she has no vice or stubbornness." - </p> - <p> - "Well, I grant Juno also a free pardon—conditioned, that you will - imitate her in avoiding vice and stubbornness, and that henceforward she - banish herself forth of Monkbarns parlour." - </p> - <p> - "Then, uncle," said the soldier, "I should have been very sorry and - ashamed to propose to you anything in the way of expiation of my own sins, - or those of my follower, that I thought <i>worth</i> your acceptance; but - now, as all is forgiven, will you permit the orphan-nephew, to whom you - have been a father, to offer you a trifle, which I have been assured is - really curious, and which only the cross accident of my wound has - prevented my delivering to you before? I got it from a French savant, to - whom I rendered some service after the Alexandria affair." - </p> - <p> - The captain put a small ring-case into the Antiquary's hands, which, when - opened, was found to contain an antique ring of massive gold, with a - cameo, most beautifully executed, bearing a head of Cleopatra. The - Antiquary broke forth into unrepressed ecstasy, shook his nephew cordially - by the hand, thanked him an hundred times, and showed the ring to his - sister and niece, the latter of whom had the tact to give it sufficient - admiration; but Miss Griselda (though she had the same affection for her - nephew) had not address enough to follow the lead. - </p> - <p> - "It's a bonny thing," she said, "Monkbarns, and, I dare say, a valuable; - but it's out o'my way—ye ken I am nae judge o' sic matters." - </p> - <p> - "There spoke all Fairport in one voice!" exclaimed Oldbuck "it is the very - spirit of the borough has infected us all; I think I have smelled the - smoke these two days, that the wind has stuck, like a <i>remora,</i> in - the north-east—and its prejudices fly farther than its vapours. - Believe me, my dear Hector, were I to walk up the High Street of Fairport, - displaying this inestimable gem in the eyes of each one I met, no human - creature, from the provost to the town-crier, would stop to ask me its - history. But if I carried a bale of linen cloth under my arm, I could not - penetrate to the Horsemarket ere I should be overwhelmed with queries - about its precise texture and price. Oh, one might parody their brutal - ignorance in the words of Gray: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Weave the warp and weave the woof, - The winding-sheet of wit and sense, - Dull garment of defensive proof, - 'Gainst all that doth not gather pence." -</pre> - <p> - The most remarkable proof of this peace-offering being quite acceptable - was, that while the Antiquary was in full declamation, Juno, who held him - in awe, according to the remarkable instinct by which dogs instantly - discover those who like or dislike them, had peeped several times into the - room, and encountering nothing very forbidding in his aspect, had at - length presumed to introduce her full person; and finally, becoming bold - by impunity, she actually ate up Mr. Oldbuck's toast, as, looking first at - one then at another of his audience, he repeated, with self-complacency, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Weave the warp and weave the woof,— -</pre> - <p> - "You remember the passage in the Fatal Sisters, which, by the way, is not - so fine as in the original—But, hey-day! my toast has vanished!—I - see which way—Ah, thou type of womankind! no wonder they take - offence at thy generic appellation!"—(So saying, he shook his fist - at Juno, who scoured out of the parlour.)—"However, as Jupiter, - according to Homer, could not rule Juno in heaven, and as Jack Muirhead, - according to Hector M'Intyre, has been equally unsuccessful on earth, I - suppose she must have her own way." And this mild censure the brother and - sister justly accounted a full pardon for Juno's offences, and sate down - well pleased to the morning meal. - </p> - <p> - When breakfast was over, the Antiquary proposed to his nephew to go down - with him to attend the funeral. The soldier pleaded the want of a mourning - habit. - </p> - <p> - "O, that does not signify—your presence is all that is requisite. I - assure you, you will see something that will entertain—no, that's an - improper phrase—but that will interest you, from the resemblances - which I will point out betwixt popular customs on such occasions and those - of the ancients." - </p> - <p> - "Heaven forgive me!" thought M'Intyre;—"I shall certainly misbehave, - and lose all the credit I have so lately and accidentally gained." - </p> - <p> - When they set out, schooled as he was by the warning and entreating looks - of his sister, the soldier made his resolution strong to give no offence - by evincing inattention or impatience. But our best resolutions are frail, - when opposed to our predominant inclinations. Our Antiquary,—to - leave nothing unexplained, had commenced with the funeral rites of the - ancient Scandinavians, when his nephew interrupted him, in a discussion - upon the "age of hills," to remark that a large sea-gull, which flitted - around them, had come twice within shot. This error being acknowledged and - pardoned, Oldbuck resumed his disquisition. - </p> - <p> - "These are circumstances you ought to attend to and be familiar with, my - dear Hector; for, in the strange contingencies of the present war which - agitates every corner of Europe, there is no knowing where you may be - called upon to serve. If in Norway, for example, or Denmark, or any part - of the ancient Scania, or Scandinavia, as we term it, what could be more - convenient than to have at your fingers' ends the history and antiquities - of that ancient country, the <i>officina gentium,</i> the mother of modern - Europe, the nursery of those heroes, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Stern to inflict, and stubborn to endure, - Who smiled in death?— -</pre> - <p> - How animating, for example, at the conclusion of a weary march, to find - yourself in the vicinity of a Runic monument, and discover that you have - pitched your tent beside the tomb of a hero!" - </p> - <p> - "I am afraid, sir, our mess would be better supplied if it chanced to be - in the neighbourhood of a good poultry-yard." - </p> - <p> - "Alas, that you should say so! No wonder the days of Cressy and Agincourt - are no more, when respect for ancient valour has died away in the breasts - of the British soldiery." - </p> - <p> - "By no means, sir—by no manner of means. I dare say that Edward and - Henry, and the rest of these heroes, thought of their dinner, however, - before they thought of examining an old tombstone. But I assure you, we - are by no means insensible to the memoir of our fathers' fame; I used - often of an evening to get old Rory MAlpin to sing us songs out of Ossian - about the battles of Fingal and Lamon Mor, and Magnus and the Spirit of - Muirartach." - </p> - <p> - "And did you believe," asked the aroused Antiquary, "did you absolutely - believe that stuff of Macpherson's to be really ancient, you simple boy?" - </p> - <p> - "Believe it, sir?—how could I but believe it, when I have heard the - songs sung from my infancy?" - </p> - <p> - "But not the same as Macpherson's English Ossian—you're not absurd - enough to say that, I hope?" said the Antiquary, his brow darkening with - wrath. - </p> - <p> - But Hector stoutly abode the storm; like many a sturdy Celt, he imagined - the honour of his country and native language connected with the - authenticity of these popular poems, and would have fought knee-deep, or - forfeited life and land, rather than have given up a line of them. He - therefore undauntedly maintained, that Rory MAlpin could repeat the whole - book from one end to another;—and it was only upon cross-examination - that he explained an assertion so general, by adding "At least, if he was - allowed whisky enough, he could repeat as long as anybody would hearken to - him." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay," said the Antiquary; "and that, I suppose, was not very long." - </p> - <p> - "Why, we had our duty, sir, to attend to, and could not sit listening all - night to a piper." - </p> - <p> - "But do you recollect, now," said Oldbuck, setting his teeth firmly - together, and speaking without opening them, which was his custom when - contradicted—"Do you recollect, now, any of these verses you thought - so beautiful and interesting—being a capital judge, no doubt, of - such things?" - </p> - <p> - "I don't pretend to much skill, uncle; but it's not very reasonable to be - angry with me for admiring the antiquities of my own country more than - those of the Harolds, Harfagers, and Hacos you are so fond of." - </p> - <p> - "Why, these, sir—these mighty and unconquered Goths—<i>were</i> - your ancestors! The bare-breeched Celts whom theysubdued, and suffered - only to exist, like a fearful people, in the crevices of the rocks, were - but their Mancipia and Serfs!" - </p> - <p> - Hector's brow now grew red in his turn. "Sir," he said, "I don't - understand the meaning of Mancipia and Serfs, but I conceive that such - names are very improperly applied to Scotch Highlanders: no man but my - mother's brother dared to have used such language in my presence; and I - pray you will observe, that I consider it as neither hospitable, handsome, - kind, nor generous usage towards your guest and your kinsman. My - ancestors, Mr. Oldbuck"— - </p> - <p> - "Were great and gallant chiefs, I dare say, Hector; and really I did not - mean to give you such immense offence in treating a point of remote - antiquity, a subject on which I always am myself cool, deliberate, and - unimpassioned. But you are as hot and hasty, as if you were Hector and - Achilles, and Agamemnon to boot." - </p> - <p> - "I am sorry I expressed myself so hastily, uncle, especially to you, who - have been so generous and good. But my ancestors"— - </p> - <p> - "No more about it, lad; I meant them no affront—none." - </p> - <p> - "I'm glad of it, sir; for the house of M'Intyre"— - </p> - <p> - "Peace be with them all, every man of them," said the Antiquary. "But to - return to our subject—Do you recollect, I say, any of those poems - which afforded you such amusement?" - </p> - <p> - "Very hard this," thought M'Intyre, "that he will speak with such glee of - everything which is ancient, excepting my family. "—Then, after some - efforts at recollection, he added aloud, "Yes, sir,—I think I do - remember some lines; but you do not understand the Gaelic language." - </p> - <p> - "And will readily excuse hearing it. But you can give me some idea of the - sense in our own vernacular idiom?" - </p> - <p> - "I shall prove a wretched interpreter," said M'Intyre, running over the - original, well garnished with <i>aghes, aughs,</i> and <i>oughs,</i> and - similar gutterals, and then coughing and hawking as if the translation - stuck in his throat. At length, having premised that the poem was a - dialogue between the poet Oisin, or Ossian, and Patrick, the tutelar Saint - of Ireland, and that it was difficult, if not impossible, to render the - exquisite felicity of the first two or three lines, he said the sense was - to this purpose: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Patrick the psalm-singer, - Since you will not listen to one of my stories, - Though you never heard it before, - I am sorry to tell you - You are little better than an ass"— -</pre> - <p> - "Good! good!" exclaimed the Antiquary; "but go on. Why, this is, after - all, the most admirable fooling—I dare say the poet was very right. - What says the Saint?" - </p> - <p> - "He replies in character," said M'Intyre; "but you should hear MAlpin sing - the original. The speeches of Ossian come in upon a strong deep bass—those - of Patrick are upon a tenor key." - </p> - <p> - "Like MAlpin's drone and small pipes, I suppose," said Oldbuck. "Well? - Pray go on." - </p> - <p> - "Well then, Patrick replies to Ossian: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Upon my word, son of Fingal, - While I am warbling the psalms, - The clamour of your old women's tales - Disturbs my devotional exercises." -</pre> - <p> - "Excellent!—why, this is better and better. I hope Saint Patrick - sung better than Blattergowl's precentor, or it would be hang—choice - between the poet and psalmist. But what I admire is the courtesy of these - two eminent persons towards each other. It is a pity there should not be a - word of this in Macpherson's translation." - </p> - <p> - "If you are sure of that," said M'Intyre, gravely, "he must have taken - very unwarrantable liberties with his original." - </p> - <p> - "It will go near to be thought so shortly—but pray proceed." - </p> - <p> - "Then," said M'Intyre, "this is the answer of Ossian: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Dare you compare your psalms, - You son of a—" -</pre> - <p> - "Son of a what?" exclaimed Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "It means, I think," said the young soldier, with some reluctance, "son of - a female dog: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Do you compare your psalms, - To the tales of the bare-arm'd Fenians" -</pre> - <p> - "Are you sure you are translating that last epithet correctly, Hector?" - </p> - <p> - "Quite sure, sir," answered Hector, doggedly. - </p> - <p> - "Because I should have thought the nudity might have been quoted as - existing in a different part of the body." - </p> - <p> - Disdaining to reply to this insinuation, Hector proceeded in his - recitation: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "I shall think it no great harm - To wring your bald head from your shoulders— -</pre> - <p> - But what is that yonder?" exclaimed Hector, interrupting himself. - </p> - <p> - "One of the herd of Proteus," said the Antiquary—"a <i>phoca,</i> or - seal, lying asleep on the beach." - </p> - <p> - Upon which M'Intyre, with the eagerness of a young sportsman, totally - forgot both Ossian, Patrick, his uncle, and his wound, and exclaiming—"I - shall have her! I shall have her!" snatched the walking-stick out of the - hand of the astonished Antiquary, at some risk of throwing him down, and - set off at full speed to get between the animal and the sea, to which - element, having caught the alarm, she was rapidly retreating. - </p> - <p> - Not Sancho, when his master interrupted his account of the combatants of - Pentapolin with the naked arm, to advance in person to the charge of the - flock of sheep, stood more confounded than Oldbuck at this sudden escapade - of his nephew. - </p> - <p> - "Is the devil in him," was his first exclamation, "to go to disturb the - brute that was never thinking of him!"—Then elevating his voice, - "Hector—nephew—fool—let alone the <i>Phoca</i>—let - alone the <i>Phoca</i>!— they bite, I tell you, like furies. He - minds me no more than a post. There—there they are at it—Gad, - the <i>Phoca</i> has the best of it! I am glad to see it," said he, in the - bitterness of his heart, though really alarmed for his nephew's safety—"I - am glad to see it, with all my heart and spirit." - </p> - <p> - In truth, the seal, finding her retreat intercepted by the light-footed - soldier, confronted him manfully, and having sustained a heavy blow - without injury, she knitted her brows, as is the fashion of the animal - when incensed, and making use at once of her fore-paws and her unwieldy - strength, wrenched the weapon out of the assailant's hand, overturned him - on the sands, and scuttled away into the sea, without doing him any - farther injury. Captain M'Intyre, a good deal out of countenance at the - issue of his exploit, just rose in time to receive the ironical - congratulations of his uncle, upon a single combat worthy to be - commemorated by Ossian himself, "since," said the Antiquary, "your - magnanimous opponent has fled, though not upon eagle's wings, from the foe - that was low—Egad, she walloped away with all the grace of triumph, - and has carried my stick off also, by way of <i>spolia opima.</i>" - </p> - <p> - M'Intyre had little to answer for himself, except that a Highlander could - never pass a deer, a seal, or a salmon, where there was a possibility of - having a trial of skill with them, and that he had forgot one of his arms - was in a sling. He also made his fall an apology for returning back to - Monkbarns, and thus escape the farther raillery of his uncle, as well as - his lamentations for his walking-stick. - </p> - <p> - "I cut it," he said, "in the classic woods of Hawthornden, when I did not - expect always to have been a bachelor—I would not have given it for - an ocean of seals—O Hector! Hector!—thy namesake was born to - be the prop of Troy, and thou to be the plague of Monkbarns!" - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0010" id="Alink2HCH0010"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Tell me not of it, friend—when the young weep, - Their tears are luke-warm brine;—from your old eyes - Sorrow falls down like hail-drops of the North, - Chilling the furrows of our withered cheeks, - Cold as our hopes, and hardened as our feeling— - Theirs, as they fall, sink sightless—ours recoil, - Heap the fair plain, and bleaken all before us. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - The Antiquary, being now alone, hastened his pace, which had been retarded - by these various discussions, and the rencontre which had closed them, and - soon arrived before the half-dozen cottages at Mussel-crag. They had now, - in addition to their usual squalid and uncomfortable appearance, the - melancholy attributes of the house of mourning. The boats were all drawn - up on the beach; and, though the day was fine, and the season favourable, - the chant, which is used by the fishers when at sea, was silent, as well - as the prattle of the children, and the shrill song of the mother, as she - sits mending her nets by the door. A few of the neighbours, some in their - antique and well-saved suits of black, others in their ordinary clothes, - but all bearing an expression of mournful sympathy with distress so sudden - and unexpected, stood gathered around the door of Mucklebackit's cottage, - waiting till "the body was lifted." As the Laird of Monkbarns approached, - they made way for him to enter, doffing their hats and bonnets as he - passed, with an air of melancholy courtesy, and he returned their salutes - in the same manner. - </p> - <p> - In the inside of the cottage was a scene which our Wilkie alone could have - painted, with that exquisite feeling of nature that characterises his - enchanting productions. - </p> - <p> - The body was laid in its coffin within the wooden bedstead which the young - fisher had occupied while alive. At a little distance stood the father, - whose rugged weather-beaten countenance, shaded by his grizzled hair, had - faced many a stormy night and night-like day. He was apparently revolving - his loss in his mind, with that strong feeling of painful grief peculiar - to harsh and rough characters, which almost breaks forth into hatred - against the world, and all that remain in it, after the beloved object is - withdrawn. The old man had made the most desperate efforts to save his - son, and had only been withheld by main force from renewing them at a - moment when, without the possibility of assisting the sufferer, he must - himself have perished. All this apparently was boiling in his - recollection. His glance was directed sidelong towards the coffin, as to - an object on which he could not stedfastly look, and yet from which he - could not withdraw his eyes. His answers to the necessary questions which - were occasionally put to him, were brief, harsh, and almost fierce. His - family had not yet dared to address to him a word, either of sympathy or - consolation. His masculine wife, virago as she was, and absolute mistress - of the family, as she justly boasted herself, on all ordinary occasions, - was, by this great loss, terrified into silence and submission, and - compelled to hide from her husband's observation the bursts of her female - sorrow. As he had rejected food ever since the disaster had happened, not - daring herself to approach him, she had that morning, with affectionate - artifice, employed the youngest and favourite child to present her husband - with some nourishment. His first action was to put it from him with an - angry violence that frightened the child; his next, to snatch up the boy - and devour him with kisses. "Yell be a bra' fallow, an ye be spared, - Patie,—but ye'll never—never can be—what he was to me!—He - has sailed the coble wi' me since he was ten years auld, and there wasna - the like o' him drew a net betwixt this and Buchan-ness.—They say - folks maun submit—I will try." - </p> - <p> - And he had been silent from that moment until compelled to answer the - necessary questions we have already noticed. Such was the disconsolate - state of the father. - </p> - <p> - In another corner of the cottage, her face covered by her apron, which was - flung over it, sat the mother—the nature of her grief sufficiently - indicated by the wringing of her hands, and the convulsive agitation of - the bosom, which the covering could not conceal. Two of her gossips, - officiously whispering into her ear the commonplace topic of resignation - under irremediable misfortune, seemed as if they were endeavouring to stun - the grief which they could not console. - </p> - <p> - The sorrow of the children was mingled with wonder at the preparations - they beheld around them, and at the unusual display of wheaten bread and - wine, which the poorest peasant, or fisher, offers to the guests on these - mournful occasions; and thus their grief for their brother's death was - almost already lost in admiration of the splendour of his funeral. - </p> - <p> - But the figure of the old grandmother was the most remarkable of the - sorrowing group. Seated on her accustomed chair, with her usual air of - apathy, and want of interest in what surrounded her, she seemed every now - and then mechanically to resume the motion of twirling her spindle; then - to look towards her bosom for the distaff, although both had been laid - aside. She would then cast her eyes about, as if surprised at missing the - usual implements of her industry, and appear struck by the black colour of - the gown in which they had dressed her, and embarrassed by the number of - persons by whom she was surrounded. Then, finally, she would raise her - head with a ghastly look, and fix her eyes upon the bed which contained - the coffin of her grandson, as if she had at once, and for the first time, - acquired sense to comprehend her inexpressible calamity. These alternate - feelings of embarrassment, wonder, and grief, seemed to succeed each other - more than once upon her torpid features. But she spoke not a word—neither - had she shed a tear—nor did one of the family understand, either - from look or expression, to what extent she comprehended the uncommon - bustle around her. Thus she sat among the funeral assembly like a - connecting link between the surviving mourners and the dead corpse which - they bewailed—a being in whom the light of existence was already - obscured by the encroaching shadows of death. - </p> - <p> - When Oldbuck entered this house of mourning, he was received by a general - and silent inclination of the head, and, according to the fashion of - Scotland on such occasions, wine and spirits and bread were offered round - to the guests. Elspeth, as these refreshments were presented, surprised - and startled the whole company by motioning to the person who bore them to - stop; then, taking a glass in her hand, she rose up, and, as the smile of - dotage played upon her shrivelled features, she pronounced, with a hollow - and tremulous voice, "Wishing a' your healths, sirs, and often may we hae - such merry meetings!" - </p> - <p> - All shrunk from the ominous pledge, and set down the untasted liquor with - a degree of shuddering horror, which will not surprise those who know how - many superstitions are still common on such occasions among the Scottish - vulgar. But as the old woman tasted the liquor, she suddenly exclaimed - with a sort of shriek, "What's this?—this is wine—how should - there be wine in my son's house?—Ay," she continued with a - suppressed groan, "I mind the sorrowful cause now," and, dropping the - glass from her hand, she stood a moment gazing fixedly on the bed in which - the coffin of her grandson was deposited, and then sinking gradually into - her seat, she covered her eyes and forehead with her withered and pallid - hand. - </p> - <p> - At this moment the clergyman entered the cottage. Mr. Blattergowl, though - a dreadful proser, particularly on the subject of augmentations, - localities, teinds, and overtures in that session of the General Assembly, - to which, unfortunately for his auditors, he chanced one year to act as - moderator, was nevertheless a good man, in the old Scottish presbyterian - phrase, God-ward and man-ward. No divine was more attentive in visiting - the sick and afflicted, in catechising the youth, in instructing the - ignorant, and in reproving the erring. And hence, notwithstanding - impatience of his prolixity and prejudices, personal or professional, and - notwithstanding, moreover, a certain habitual contempt for his - understanding, especially on affairs of genius and taste, on which - Blattergowl was apt to be diffuse, from his hope of one day fighting his - way to a chair of rhetoric or belles lettres,— notwithstanding, I - say, all the prejudices excited against him by these circumstances, our - friend the Antiquary looked with great regard and respect on the said - Blattergowl, though I own he could seldom, even by his sense of decency - and the remonstrances of his womankind, be <i>hounded out,</i> as he - called it, to hear him preach. But he regularly took shame to himself for - his absence when Blattergowl came to Monkbarns to dinner, to which he was - always invited of a Sunday, a mode of testifying his respect which the - proprietor probably thought fully as agreeable to the clergyman, and - rather more congenial to his own habits. - </p> - <p> - To return from a digression which can only serve to introduce the honest - clergyman more particularly to our readers, Mr. Blattergowl had no sooner - entered the hut, and received the mute and melancholy salutations of the - company whom it contained, than he edged himself towards the unfortunate - father, and seemed to endeavour to slide in a few words of condolence or - of consolation. But the old man was incapable as yet of receiving either; - he nodded, however, gruffly, and shook the clergyman's hand in - acknowledgment of his good intentions, but was either unable or unwilling - to make any verbal reply. - </p> - <p> - The minister next passed to the mother, moving along the floor as slowly, - silently, and gradually, as if he had been afraid that the ground would, - like unsafe ice, break beneath his feet, or that the first echo of a - footstep was to dissolve some magic spell, and plunge the hut, with all - its inmates, into a subterranean abyss. The tenor of what he had said to - the poor woman could only be judged by her answers, as, half-stifled by - sobs ill-repressed, and by the covering which she still kept over her - countenance, she faintly answered at each pause in his speech—"Yes, - sir, yes!—Ye're very gude—ye're very gude!—Nae doubt, - nae doubt!—It's our duty to submit!—But, oh dear! my poor - Steenie! the pride o' my very heart, that was sae handsome and comely, and - a help to his family, and a comfort to us a', and a pleasure to a' that - lookit on him!—Oh, my bairn! my bairn! my bairn! what for is thou - lying there!—and eh! what for am I left to greet for ye!" - </p> - <p> - There was no contending with this burst of sorrow and natural affection. - Oldbuck had repeated recourse to his snuff-box to conceal the tears which, - despite his shrewd and caustic temper, were apt to start on such - occasions. The female assistants whimpered, the men held their bonnets to - their faces, and spoke apart with each other. The clergyman, meantime, - addressed his ghostly consolation to the aged grandmother. At first she - listened, or seemed to listen, to what he said, with the apathy of her - usual unconsciousness. But as, in pressing this theme, he approached so - near to her ear that the sense of his words became distinctly intelligible - to her, though unheard by those who stood more distant, her countenance at - once assumed that stern and expressive cast which characterized her - intervals of intelligence. She drew up her head and body, shook her head - in a manner that showed at least impatience, if not scorn of his counsel, - and waved her hand slightly, but with a gesture so expressive, as to - indicate to all who witnessed it a marked and disdainful rejection of the - ghostly consolation proffered to her. The minister stepped back as if - repulsed, and, by lifting gently and dropping his hand, seemed to show at - once wonder, sorrow, and compassion for her dreadful state of mind. The - rest of the company sympathized, and a stifled whisper went through them, - indicating how much her desperate and determined manner impressed them - with awe, and even horror. - </p> - <p> - In the meantime, the funeral company was completed, by the arrival of one - or two persons who had been expected from Fairport. The wine and spirits - again circulated, and the dumb show of greeting was anew interchanged. The - grandame a second time took a glass in her hand, drank its contents, and - exclaimed, with a sort of laugh,—"Ha! ha! I hae tasted wine twice in - ae day—Whan did I that before, think ye, cummers?—Never since"—and - the transient glow vanishing from her countenance, she set the glass down, - and sunk upon the settle from whence she had risen to snatch at it. - </p> - <p> - As the general amazement subsided, Mr. Oldbuck, whose heart bled to - witness what he considered as the errings of the enfeebled intellect - struggling with the torpid chill of age and of sorrow, observed to the - clergyman that it was time to proceed with the ceremony. The father was - incapable of giving directions, but the nearest relation of the family - made a sign to the carpenter, who in such cases goes through the duty of - the undertaker, to proceed in his office. The creak of the screw-nails - presently announced that the lid of the last mansion of mortality was in - the act of being secured above its tenant. The last act which separates us - for ever, even from the mortal relies of the person we assemble to mourn, - has usually its effect upon the most indifferent, selfish, and - hard-hearted. With a spirit of contradiction, which we may be pardoned for - esteeming narrow-minded, the fathers of the Scottish kirk rejected, even - on this most solemn occasion, the form of an address to the Divinity, lest - they should be thought to give countenance to the rituals of Rome or of - England. With much better and more liberal judgment, it is the present - practice of most of the Scottish clergymen to seize this opportunity of - offering a prayer, and exhortation, suitable to make an impression upon - the living, while they are yet in the very presence of the relics of him - whom they have but lately seen such as they themselves, and who now is - such as they must in their time become. But this decent and praiseworthy - practice was not adopted at the time of which I am treating, or at least, - Mr. Blattergowl did not act upon it, and the ceremony proceeded without - any devotional exercise. - </p> - <p> - The coffin, covered with a pall, and supported upon hand-spikes by the - nearest relatives, now only waited the father to support the head, as is - customary. Two or three of these privileged persons spoke to him, but he - only answered by shaking his hand and his head in token of refusal. With - better intention than judgment, the friends, who considered this as an act - of duty on the part of the living, and of decency towards the deceased, - would have proceeded to enforce their request, had not Oldbuck interfered - between the distressed father and his well-meaning tormentors, and - informed them, that he himself, as landlord and master to the deceased, - "would carry his head to the grave." In spite of the sorrowful occasion, - the hearts of the relatives swelled within them at so marked a distinction - on the part of the laird; and old Alison Breck, who was present among - other fish-women, swore almost aloud, "His honour Monkbarns should never - want sax warp of oysters in the season" (of which fish he was understood - to be fond), "if she should gang to sea and dredge for them hersell, in - the foulest wind that ever blew." And such is the temper of the Scottish - common people, that, by this instance of compliance with their customs, - and respect for their persons, Mr. Oldbuck gained more popularity than by - all the sums which he had yearly distributed in the parish for purposes of - private or general charity. - </p> - <p> - The sad procession now moved slowly forward, preceded by the beadles, or - saulies, with their batons,—miserable-looking old men, tottering as - if on the edge of that grave to which they were marshalling another, and - clad, according to Scottish guise, with threadbare black coats, and - hunting-caps decorated with rusty crape. Monkbarns would probably have - remonstrated against this superfluous expense, had he been consulted; but, - in doing so, he would have given more offence than he gained popularity by - condescending to perform the office of chief-mourner. Of this he was quite - aware, and wisely withheld rebuke, where rebuke and advice would have been - equally unavailing. In truth, the Scottish peasantry are still infected - with that rage for funeral ceremonial, which once distinguished the - grandees of the kingdom so much, that a sumptuary law was made by the - Parliament of Scotland for the purpose of restraining it; and I have known - many in the lowest stations, who have denied themselves not merely the - comforts, but almost the necessaries of life, in order to save such a sum - of money as might enable their surviving friends to bury them like - Christians, as they termed it; nor could their faithful executors be - prevailed upon, though equally necessitous, to turn to the use and - maintenance of the living the money vainly wasted upon the interment of - the dead. - </p> - <p> - The procession to the churchyard, at about half-a-mile's distance, was - made with the mournful solemnity usual on these occasions,—the body - was consigned to its parent earth,—and when the labour of the - gravediggers had filled up the trench, and covered it with fresh sod, Mr. - Oldbuck, taking his hat off, saluted the assistants, who had stood by in - melancholy silence, and with that adieu dispersed the mourners. - </p> - <p> - The clergyman offered our Antiquary his company to walk homeward; but Mr. - Oldbuck had been so much struck with the deportment of the fisherman and - his mother, that, moved by compassion, and perhaps also, in some degree, - by that curiosity which induces us to seek out even what gives us pain to - witness, he preferred a solitary walk by the coast, for the purpose of - again visiting the cottage as he passed. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0011" id="Alink2HCH0011"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER ELEVENTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - What is this secret sin, this untold tale, - That art cannot extract, nor penance cleanse? - —Her muscles hold their place; - Nor discomposed, nor formed to steadiness, - No sudden flushing, and no faltering lip.— - Mysterious Mother. -</pre> - <p> - The coffin had been borne from the place where it rested. The mourners, in - regular gradation, according to their rank or their relationship to the - deceased, had filed from the cottage, while the younger male children were - led along to totter after the bier of their brother, and to view with - wonder a ceremonial which they could hardly comprehend. The female gossips - next rose to depart, and, with consideration for the situation of the - parents, carried along with them the girls of the family, to give the - unhappy pair time and opportunity to open their hearts to each other and - soften their grief by communicating it. But their kind intention was - without effect. The last of them had darkened the entrance of the cottage, - as she went out, and drawn the door softly behind her, when the father, - first ascertaining by a hasty glance that no stranger remained, started - up, clasped his hands wildly above his head, uttered a cry of the despair - which he had hitherto repressed, and, in all the impotent impatience of - grief, half rushed half staggered forward to the bed on which the coffin - had been deposited, threw himself down upon it, and smothering, as it - were, his head among the bed-clothes, gave vent to the full passion of his - sorrow. It was in vain that the wretched mother, terrified by the - vehemence of her husband's affliction—affliction still more fearful - as agitating a man of hardened manners and a robust frame—suppressed - her own sobs and tears, and, pulling him by the skirts of his coat, - implored him to rise and remember, that, though one was removed, he had - still a wife and children to comfort and support. The appeal came at too - early a period of his anguish, and was totally unattended to; he continued - to remain prostrate, indicating, by sobs so bitter and violent, that they - shook the bed and partition against which it rested, by clenched hands - which grasped the bed-clothes, and by the vehement and convulsive motion - of his legs, how deep and how terrible was the agony of a father's sorrow. - </p> - <p> - "O, what a day is this! what a day is this!" said the poor mother, her - womanish affliction already exhausted by sobs and tears, and now almost - lost in terror for the state in which she beheld her husband—"O, - what an hour is this! and naebody to help a poor lone woman—O, - gudemither, could ye but speak a word to him!—wad ye but bid him be - comforted!" - </p> - <p> - To her astonishment, and even to the increase of her fear, her husband's - mother heard and answered the appeal. She rose and walked across the floor - without support, and without much apparent feebleness, and standing by the - bed on which her son had extended himself, she said, "Rise up, my son, and - sorrow not for him that is beyond sin and sorrow and temptation. Sorrow is - for those that remain in this vale of sorrow and darkness—I, wha - dinna sorrow, and wha canna sorrow for ony ane, hae maist need that ye - should a' sorrow for me." - </p> - <p> - The voice of his mother, not heard for years as taking part in the active - duties of life, or offering advice or consolation, produced its effect - upon her son. He assumed a sitting posture on the side of the bed, and his - appearance, attitude, and gestures, changed from those of angry despair to - deep grief and dejection. The grandmother retired to her nook, the mother - mechanically took in her hand her tattered Bible, and seemed to read, - though her eyes were drowned with tears. - </p> - <p> - They were thus occupied, when a loud knock was heard at the door. - </p> - <p> - "Hegh, sirs!" said the poor mother, "wha is that can be coming in that - gate e'enow?—They canna hae heard o' our misfortune, I'm sure." - </p> - <p> - The knock being repeated, she rose and opened the door, saying - querulously, "Whatna gait's that to disturb a sorrowfu' house?" - </p> - <p> - A tall man in black stood before her, whom she instantly recognised to be - Lord Glenallan. "Is there not," he said, "an old woman lodging in this or - one of the neighbouring cottages, called Elspeth, who was long resident at - Craigburnfoot of Glenallan?" - </p> - <p> - "It's my gudemither, my lord," said Margaret; "but she canna see onybody - e'enow—Ohon! we're dreeing a sair weird—we hae had a heavy - dispensation!" - </p> - <p> - "God forbid," said Lord Glenallan, "that I should on light occasion - disturb your sorrow;—but my days are numbered—your - mother-in-law is in the extremity of age, and, if I see her not to-day, we - may never meet on this side of time." - </p> - <p> - "And what," answered the desolate mother, "wad ye see at an auld woman, - broken down wi' age and sorrow and heartbreak? Gentle or semple shall not - darken my door the day my bairn's been carried out a corpse." - </p> - <p> - While she spoke thus, indulging the natural irritability of disposition - and profession, which began to mingle itself with her grief when its first - uncontrolled bursts were gone by, she held the door about one-third part - open, and placed herself in the gap, as if to render the visitor's - entrance impossible. But the voice of her husband was heard from within—"Wha's - that, Maggie? what for are ye steaking them out?—let them come in; - it doesna signify an auld rope's end wha comes in or wha gaes out o' this - house frae this time forward." - </p> - <p> - The woman stood aside at her husband's command, and permitted Lord - Glenallan to enter the hut. The dejection exhibited in his broken frame - and emaciated countenance, formed a strong contrast with the effects of - grief, as they were displayed in the rude and weatherbeaten visage of the - fisherman, and the masculine features of his wife. He approached the old - woman as she was seated on her usual settle, and asked her, in a tone as - audible as his voice could make it, "Are you Elspeth of the Craigburnfoot - of Glenallan?" - </p> - <p> - "Wha is it that asks about the unhallowed residence of that evil woman?" - was the answer returned to his query. - </p> - <p> - "The unhappy Earl of Glenallan." - </p> - <p> - "Earl!—Earl of Glenallan!" - </p> - <p> - "He who was called William Lord Geraldin," said the Earl; "and whom his - mother's death has made Earl of Glenallan." - </p> - <p> - "Open the bole," said the old woman firmly and hastily to her - daughter-in-law, "open the bole wi' speed, that I may see if this be the - right Lord Geraldin—the son of my mistress—him that I received - in my arms within the hour after he was born—him that has reason to - curse me that I didna smother him before the hour was past!" - </p> - <p> - The window, which had been shut in order that a gloomy twilight might add - to the solemnity of the funeral meeting, was opened as she commanded, and - threw a sudden and strong light through the smoky and misty atmosphere of - the stifling cabin. Falling in a stream upon the chimney, the rays - illuminated, in the way that Rembrandt would have chosen, the features of - the unfortunate nobleman, and those of the old sibyl, who now, standing - upon her feet, and holding him by one hand, peered anxiously in his - features with her light-blue eyes, and holding her long and withered - fore-finger within a small distance of his face, moved it slowly as if to - trace the outlines and reconcile what she recollected with that she now - beheld. As she finished her scrutiny, she said, with a deep sigh, "It's a - sair—sair change; and wha's fault is it?—but that's written - down where it will be remembered—it's written on tablets of brass - with a pen of steel, where all is recorded that is done in the flesh.—And - what," she said after a pause, "what is Lord Geraldin seeking from a poor - auld creature like me, that's dead already, and only belongs sae far to - the living that she isna yet laid in the moulds?" - </p> - <p> - "Nay," answered Lord Glenallan, "in the name of Heaven, why was it that - you requested so urgently to see me?—and why did you back your - request by sending a token which you knew well I dared not refuse?" - </p> - <p> - As he spoke thus, he took from his purse the ring which Edie Ochiltree had - delivered to him at Glenallan House. The sight of this token produced a - strange and instantaneous effect upon the old woman. The palsy of fear was - immediately added to that of age, and she began instantly to search her - pockets with the tremulous and hasty agitation of one who becomes first - apprehensive of having lost something of great importance;—then, as - if convinced of the reality of her fears, she turned to the Earl, and - demanded, "And how came ye by it then?—how came ye by it? I thought - I had kept it sae securely—what will the Countess say?" - </p> - <p> - "You know," said the Earl, "at least you must have heard, that my mother - is dead." - </p> - <p> - "Dead! are ye no imposing upon me? has she left a' at last, lands and - lordship and lineages?" - </p> - <p> - "All, all," said the Earl, "as mortals must leave all human vanities." - </p> - <p> - "I mind now," answered Elspeth—"I heard of it before but there has - been sic distress in our house since, and my memory is sae muckle impaired— - But ye are sure your mother, the Lady Countess, is gane hame?" - </p> - <p> - The Earl again assured her that her former mistress was no more. - </p> - <p> - "Then," said Elspeth, "it shall burden my mind nae langer!—When she - lived, wha dared to speak what it would hae displeased her to hae had - noised abroad? But she's gane—and I will confess all." - </p> - <p> - Then turning to her son and daughter-in-law, she commanded them - imperatively to quit the house, and leave Lord Geraldin (for so she still - called him) alone with her. But Maggie Mucklebackit, her first burst of - grief being over, was by no means disposed in her own house to pay passive - obedience to the commands of her mother-in-law, an authority which is - peculiarly obnoxious to persons in her rank of life, and which she was the - more astonished at hearing revived, when it seemed to have been so long - relinquished and forgotten. - </p> - <p> - "It was an unco thing," she said, in a grumbling tone of voice,—for - the rank of Lord Glenallan was somewhat imposing—"it was an unco - thing to bid a mother leave her ain house wi' the tear in her ee, the - moment her eldest son had been carried a corpse out at the door o't." - </p> - <p> - The fisherman, in a stubborn and sullen tone, added to the same purpose. - "This is nae day for your auld-warld stories, mother. My lord, if he be a - lord, may ca' some other day—or he may speak out what he has gotten - to say if he likes it; there's nane here will think it worth their while - to listen to him or you either. But neither for laird or loon, gentle or - semple, will I leave my ain house to pleasure onybody on the very day my - poor"— - </p> - <p> - Here his voice choked, and he could proceed no farther; but as he had - risen when Lord Glenallan came in, and had since remained standing, he now - threw himself doggedly upon a seat, and remained in the sullen posture of - one who was determined to keep his word. - </p> - <p> - But the old woman, whom this crisis seemed to repossess in all those - powers of mental superiority with which she had once been eminently - gifted, arose, and advancing towards him, said, with a solemn voice, "My - son, as ye wad shun hearing of your mother's shame—as ye wad not - willingly be a witness of her guilt—as ye wad deserve her blessing - and avoid her curse, I charge ye, by the body that bore and that nursed - ye, to leave me at freedom to speak with Lord Geraldin, what nae mortal - ears but his ain maun listen to. Obey my words, that when ye lay the - moulds on my head—and, oh that the day were come!—ye may - remember this hour without the reproach of having disobeyed the last - earthly command that ever your mother wared on you." - </p> - <p> - The terms of this solemn charge revived in the fisherman's heart the habit - of instinctive obedience in which his mother had trained him up, and to - which he had submitted implicitly while her powers of exacting it remained - entire. The recollection mingled also with the prevailing passion of the - moment; for, glancing his eye at the bed on which the dead body had been - laid, he muttered to himself, "<i>He</i> never disobeyed <i>me,</i> in - reason or out o' reason, and what for should I vex <i>her</i>?" Then, - taking his reluctant spouse by the arm, he led her gently out of the - cottage, and latched the door behind them as he left it. - </p> - <p> - As the unhappy parents withdrew, Lord Glenallan, to prevent the old woman - from relapsing into her lethargy, again pressed her on the subject of the - communication which she proposed to make to him. - </p> - <p> - "Ye will have it sune eneugh," she replied;—"my mind's clear eneugh - now, and there is not—I think there is not—a chance of my - forgetting what I have to say. My dwelling at Craigburnfoot is before my - een, as it were present in reality:—the green bank, with its - selvidge, just where the burn met wi' the sea—the twa little barks, - wi' their sails furled, lying in the natural cove which it formed—the - high cliff that joined it with the pleasure-grounds of the house of - Glenallan, and hung right ower the stream—Ah! yes—I may forget - that I had a husband and have lost him— that I hae but ane alive of - our four fair sons—that misfortune upon misfortune has devoured our - ill-gotten wealth—that they carried the corpse of my son's - eldest-born frae the house this morning—But I never can forget the - days I spent at bonny Craigburnfoot!" - </p> - <p> - "You were a favourite of my mother," said Lord Glenallan, desirous to - bring her back to the point, from which she was wandering. - </p> - <p> - "I was, I was,—ye needna mind me o' that. She brought me up abune my - station, and wi' knowledge mair than my fellows—but, like the - tempter of auld, wi' the knowledge of gude she taught me the knowledge of - evil." - </p> - <p> - "For God's sake, Elspeth," said the astonished Earl, "proceed, if you can, - to explain the dreadful hints you have thrown out! I well know you are - confidant to one dreadful secret, which should split this roof even to - hear it named—but speak on farther." - </p> - <p> - "I will," she said—"I will!—just bear wi' me for a little;"—and - again she seemed lost in recollection, but it was no longer tinged with - imbecility or apathy. She was now entering upon the topic which had long - loaded her mind, and which doubtless often occupied her whole soul at - times when she seemed dead to all around her. And I may add, as a - remarkable fact, that such was the intense operation of mental energy upon - her physical powers and nervous system, that, notwithstanding her - infirmity of deafness, each word that Lord Glenallan spoke during this - remarkable conference, although in the lowest tone of horror or agony, - fell as full and distinct upon Elspeth's ear as it could have done at any - period of her life. She spoke also herself clearly, distinctly, and - slowly, as if anxious that the intelligence she communicated should be - fully understood; concisely at the same time, and with none of the - verbiage or circumlocutory additions natural to those of her sex and - condition. In short, her language bespoke a better education, as well as - an uncommonly firm and resolved mind, and a character of that sort from - which great virtues or great crimes may be naturally expected. The tenor - of her communication is disclosed in the following CHAPTER. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0012" id="Alink2HCH0012"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWELFTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Remorse—she neer forsakes us— - A bloodhound staunch—she tracks our rapid step - Through the wild labyrinth of youthful frenzy, - Unheard, perchance, until old age hath tamed us - Then in our lair, when Time hath chilled our joints, - And maimed our hope of combat, or of flight, - We hear her deep-mouthed bay, announcing all - Of wrath, and wo, and punishment that bides us. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - "I need not tell you," said the old woman, addressing the Earl of - Glenallan, "that I was the favourite and confidential attendant of - Joscelind, Countess of Glenallan, whom God assoilzie!"—(here she - crossed herself)—"and I think farther, ye may not have forgotten - that I shared her regard for mony years. I returned it by the maist - sincere attachment, but I fell into disgrace frae a trifling act of - disobedience, reported to your mother by ane that thought, and she wasna - wrang, that I was a spy upon her actions and yours." - </p> - <p> - "I charge thee, woman," said the Earl, in a voice trembling with passion, - "name not her name in my hearing!" - </p> - <p> - "I must," returned the penitent firmly and calmly, "or how can you - understand me?" - </p> - <p> - The Earl leaned upon one of the wooden chairs of the hut, drew his hat - over his face, clenched his hands together, set his teeth like one who - summons up courage to undergo a painful operation, and made a signal to - her to proceed. - </p> - <p> - "I say, then," she resumed, "that my disgrace with my mistress was chiefly - owing to Miss Eveline Neville, then bred up in Glenallan House as the - daughter of a cousin-german and intimate friend of your father that was - gane. There was muckle mystery in her history,—but wha dared to - inquire farther than the Countess liked to tell?—All in Glenallan - House loved Miss Neville—all but twa, your mother and mysell—we - baith hated her." - </p> - <p> - "God! for what reason, since a creature so mild, so gentle, so formed to - inspire affection, never walked on this wretched world?" - </p> - <p> - "It may hae been sae," rejoined Elspeth, "but your mother hated a' that - cam of your father's family—a' but himsell. Her reasons related to - strife which fell between them soon after her marriage; the particulars - are naething to this purpose. But oh! doubly did she hate Eveline Neville - when she perceived that there was a growing kindness atween you and that - unfortunate young leddy! Ye may mind that the Countess's dislike didna - gang farther at first than just showing o' the cauld shouther—at - least it wasna seen farther; but at the lang run it brak out into such - downright violence that Miss Neville was even fain to seek refuge at - Knockwinnock Castle with Sir Arthur's leddy, wha (God sain her!) was then - wi' the living." - </p> - <p> - "You rend my heart by recalling these particulars—But go on,—and - may my present agony be accepted as additional penance for the involuntary - crime!" - </p> - <p> - "She had been absent some months," continued Elspeth, "when I was ae night - watching in my hut the return of my husband from fishing, and shedding in - private those bitter tears that my proud spirit wrung frae me whenever I - thought on my disgrace. The sneck was drawn, and the Countess your mother - entered my dwelling. I thought I had seen a spectre, for even in the - height of my favour, this was an honour she had never done me, and she - looked as pale and ghastly as if she had risen from the grave. She sat - down, and wrung the draps from her hair and cloak,—for the night was - drizzling, and her walk had been through the plantations, that were a' - loaded with dew. I only mention these things that you may understand how - weel that night lives in my memory,—and weel it may. I was surprised - to see her, but I durstna speak first, mair than if I had seen a phantom— - Na, I durst not, my lord, I that hae seen mony sights of terror, and never - shook at them. Sae, after a silence, she said, Elspeth Cheyne (for she - always gave me my maiden name), are not ye the daughter of that Reginald - Cheyne who died to save his master, Lord Glenallan, on the field of - Sheriffmuir?' And I answered her as proudly as hersell nearly—As - sure as you are the daughter of that Earl of Glenallan whom my father - saved that day by his own death.'" - </p> - <p> - Here she made a deep pause. - </p> - <p> - "And what followed?—what followed?—For Heaven's sake, good - woman—But why should I use that word?—Yet, good or bad, I - command you to tell me." - </p> - <p> - "And little I should value earthly command," answered Elspeth, "were there - not a voice that has spoken to me sleeping and waking, that drives me - forward to tell this sad tale. Aweel, my Lord—the Countess said to - me, My son loves Eveline Neville—they are agreed—they are - plighted: should they have a son, my right over Glenallan merges—I - sink from that moment from a Countess into a miserable stipendiary - dowager, I who brought lands and vassals, and high blood and ancient fame, - to my husband, I must cease to be mistress when my son has an heir-male. - But I care not for that—had he married any but one of the hated - Nevilles, I had been patient. But for them—that they and their - descendants should enjoy the right and honours of my ancestors, goes - through my heart like a two-edged dirk. And this girl—I detest her!'—And - I answered, for my heart kindled at her words, that her hate was equalled - by mine." - </p> - <p> - "Wretch!" exclaimed the Earl, in spite of his determination to preserve - silence—"wretched woman! what cause of hate could have arisen from a - being so innocent and gentle?" - </p> - <p> - "I hated what my mistress hated, as was the use with the liege vassals of - the house of Glenallan; for though, my Lord, I married under my degree, - yet an ancestor of yours never went to the field of battle, but an - ancestor of the frail, demented, auld, useless wretch wha now speaks with - you, carried his shield before him. But that was not a'," continued the - beldam, her earthly and evil passions rekindling as she became heated in - her narration—"that was not a'; I hated Miss Eveline Neville for her - ain sake, I brought her frae England, and, during our whole journey, she - gecked and scorned at my northern speech and habit, as her southland - leddies and kimmers had done at the boarding-school, as they cald it"—(and, - strange as it may seem, she spoke of an affront offered by a heedless - school-girl without intention, with a degree of inveteracy which, at such - a distance of time, a mortal offence would neither have authorized or - excited in any well-constituted mind)—"Yes, she scorned and jested - at me—but let them that scorn the tartan fear the dirk!" - </p> - <p> - She paused, and then went on—"But I deny not that I hated her mair - than she deserved. My mistress, the Countess, persevered and said, Elspeth - Cheyne, this unruly boy will marry with the false English blood. Were days - as they have been, I could throw her into the Massymore* of Glenallan, and - fetter him in the Keep of Strathbonnel. - </p> - <p> - * <i>Massa-mora,</i> an ancient name for a dungeon, derived from the - Moorish language, perhaps as far back as the time of the Crusades. - </p> - <p> - But these times are past, and the authority which the nobles of the land - should exercise is delegated to quibbling lawyers and their baser - dependants. Hear me, Elspeth Cheyne! if you are your father's daughter as - I am mine, I will find means that they shall not marry. She walks often to - that cliff that overhangs your dwelling to look for her lover's boat—(ye - may remember the pleasure ye then took on the sea, my Lord)—let him - find her forty fathom lower than he expects!'—Yes! ye may stare and - frown and clench your hand; but, as sure as I am to face the only Being I - ever feared—and, oh that I had feared him mair!—these were - your mother's words. What avails it to me to lie to you?—But I wadna - consent to stain my hand with blood.—Then she said, By the religion - of our holy Church they are ower <i>sibb</i> thegither. But I expect - nothing but that both will become heretics as well as disobedient - reprobates;'—that was her addition to that argument. And then, as - the fiend is ever ower busy wi' brains like mine, that are subtle beyond - their use and station, I was unhappily permitted to add—But they - might be brought to think themselves sae <i>sibb</i> as no Christian law - will permit their wedlock.'" - </p> - <p> - Here the Earl of Glenallan echoed her words, with a shriek so piercing as - almost to rend the roof of the cottage.—"Ah! then Eveline Neville - was not the—the"— - </p> - <p> - "The daughter, ye would say, of your father?" continued Elspeth. "No—be - it a torment or be it a comfort to you—ken the truth, she was nae - mair a daughter of your father's house than I am." - </p> - <p> - "Woman, deceive me not!—make me not curse the memory of the parent I - have so lately laid in the grave, for sharing in a plot the most cruel, - the most infernal"— - </p> - <p> - "Bethink ye, my Lord Geraldin, ere ye curse the memory of a parent that's - gane, is there none of the blood of Glenallan living, whose faults have - led to this dreadfu' catastrophe?" - </p> - <p> - "Mean you my brother?—he, too, is gone," said the Earl. - </p> - <p> - "No," replied the sibyl, "I mean yoursell, Lord Geraldin. Had you not - transgressed the obedience of a son by wedding Eveline Neville in secret - while a guest at Knockwinnock, our plot might have separated you for a - time, but would have left at least your sorrows without remorse to canker - them. But your ain conduct had put poison in the weapon that we threw, and - it pierced you with the mair force because ye cam rushing to meet it. Had - your marriage been a proclaimed and acknowledged action, our stratagem to - throw an obstacle into your way that couldna be got ower, neither wad nor - could hae been practised against ye." - </p> - <p> - "Great Heaven!" said the unfortunate nobleman—"it is as if a film - fell from my obscured eyes! Yes, I now well understand the doubtful hints - of consolation thrown out by my wretched mother, tending indirectly to - impeach the evidence of the horrors of which her arts had led me to - believe myself guilty." - </p> - <p> - "She could not speak mair plainly," answered Elspeth, "without confessing - her ain fraud,—and she would have submitted to be torn by wild - horses, rather than unfold what she had done; and if she had still lived, - so would I for her sake. They were stout hearts the race of Glenallan, - male and female, and sae were a' that in auld times cried their - gathering-word of <i>Clochnaben</i>—they stood shouther to shouther—nae - man parted frae his chief for love of gold or of gain, or of right or of - wrang. The times are changed, I hear, now." - </p> - <p> - The unfortunate nobleman was too much wrapped up in his own confused and - distracted reflections, to notice the rude expressions of savage fidelity, - in which, even in the latest ebb of life, the unhappy author of his - misfortunes seemed to find a stern and stubborn source of consolation. - </p> - <p> - "Great Heaven!" he exclaimed, "I am then free from a guilt the most - horrible with which man can be stained, and the sense of which, however - involuntary, has wrecked my peace, destroyed my health, and bowed me down - to an untimely grave. Accept," he fervently uttered, lifting his eyes - upwards, "accept my humble thanks! If I live miserable, at least I shall - not die stained with that unnatural guilt!—And thou—proceed if - thou hast more to tell—proceed, while thou hast voice to speak it, - and I have powers to listen." - </p> - <p> - "Yes," answered the beldam, "the hour when you shall hear, and I shall - speak, is indeed passing rapidly away. Death has crossed your brow with - his finger, and I find his grasp turning every day coulder at my heart. - Interrupt me nae mair with exclamations and groans and accusations, but - hear my tale to an end! And then—if ye be indeed sic a Lord of - Glenallan as I hae heard of in <i>my</i> day—make your merrymen - gather the thorn, and the brier, and the green hollin, till they heap them - as high as the house-riggin', and burn! burn! burn! the auld witch - Elspeth, and a' that can put ye in mind that sic a creature ever crawled - upon the land!" - </p> - <p> - "Go on," said the Earl, "go on—I will not again interrupt you." - </p> - <p> - He spoke in a half-suffocated yet determined voice, resolved that no - irritability on his part should deprive him of this opportunity of - acquiring proofs of the wonderful tale he then heard. But Elspeth had - become exhausted by a continuous narration of such unusual length; the - subsequent part of her story was more broken, and though still distinctly - intelligible in most parts, had no longer the lucid conciseness which the - first part of her narrative had displayed to such an astonishing degree. - Lord Glenallan found it necessary, when she had made some attempts to - continue her narrative without success, to prompt her memory by demanding—"What - proofs she could propose to bring of the truth of a narrative so different - from that which she had originally told?" - </p> - <p> - "The evidence," she replied, "of Eveline Neville's real birth was in the - Countess's possession, with reasons for its being for some time kept - private;—they may yet be found, if she has not destroyed them, in - the left hand drawer of the ebony cabinet that stood in the dressing-room. - These she meant to suppress for the time, until you went abroad again, - when she trusted, before your return, to send Miss Neville back to her ain - country, or to get her settled in marriage." - </p> - <p> - "But did you not show me letters of my father's, which seemed to me, - unless my senses altogether failed me in that horrible moment, to avow his - relationship to—to the unhappy"— - </p> - <p> - "We did; and, with my testimony, how could you doubt the fact, or her - either? But we suppressed the true explanation of these letters, and that - was, that your father thought it right the young leddy should pass for his - daughter for a while, on account o'some family reasons that were amang - them." - </p> - <p> - "But wherefore, when you learned our union, was this dreadful artifice - persisted in?" - </p> - <p> - "It wasna," she replied, "till Lady Glenallan had communicated this fause - tale, that she suspected ye had actually made a marriage—nor even - then did you avow it sae as to satisfy her whether the ceremony had in - verity passed atween ye or no—But ye remember, O ye canna but - remember weel, what passed in that awfu' meeting!" - </p> - <p> - "Woman! you swore upon the gospels to the fact which you now disavow." - </p> - <p> - "I did,—and I wad hae taen a yet mair holy pledge on it, if there - had been ane—I wad not hae spared the blood of my body, or the guilt - of my soul, to serve the house of Glenallan." - </p> - <p> - "Wretch! do you call that horrid perjury, attended with consequences yet - more dreadful—do you esteem that a service to the house of your - benefactors?" - </p> - <p> - "I served her, wha was then the head of Glenallan, as she required me to - serve her. The cause was between God and her conscience—the manner - between God and mine—She is gane to her account, and I maun follow. - Have I taulds you a'?" - </p> - <p> - "No," answered Lord Glenallan—"you have yet more to tell—you - have to tell me of the death of the angel whom your perjury drove to - despair, stained, as she thought herself, with a crime so horrible. Speak - truth—was that dreadful—was that horrible incident"—he - could scarcely articulate the words—"was it as reported? or was it - an act of yet further, though not more atrocious cruelty, inflicted by - others?" - </p> - <p> - "I understand you," said Elspeth. "But report spoke truth;—our false - witness was indeed the cause, but the deed was her ain distracted act. On - that fearfu' disclosure, when ye rushed frae the Countess's presence and - saddled your horse, and left the castle like a fire-flaught, the Countess - hadna yet discovered your private marriage; she hadna fund out that the - union, which she had framed this awfu' tale to prevent, had e'en taen - place. Ye fled from the house as if the fire o' Heaven was about to fa' - upon it, and Miss Neville, atween reason and the want o't, was put under - sure ward. But the ward sleep't, and the prisoner waked—the window - was open—the way was before her—there was the cliff, and there - was the sea!—O, when will I forget that!" - </p> - <p> - "And thus died," said the Earl, "even so as was reported?" - </p> - <p> - "No, my lord. I had gane out to the cove—the tide was in, and it - flowed, as ye'll remember, to the foot o' that cliff—it was a great - convenience that for my husband's trade—Where am I wandering?—I - saw a white object dart frae the tap o' the cliff like a sea-maw through - the mist, and then a heavy flash and sparkle of the waters showed me it - was a human creature that had fa'en into the waves. I was bold and strong, - and familiar with the tide. I rushed in and grasped her gown, and drew her - out and carried her on my shouthers—I could hae carried twa sic then—carried - her to my hut, and laid her on my bed. Neighbours cam and brought help; - but the words she uttered in her ravings, when she got back the use of - speech, were such, that I was fain to send them awa, and get up word to - Glenallan House. The Countess sent down her Spanish servant Teresa—if - ever there was a fiend on earth in human form, that woman was ane. She and - I were to watch the unhappy leddy, and let no other person approach.—God - knows what Teresa's part was to hae been—she tauld it not to me—but - Heaven took the conclusion in its ain hand. The poor leddy! she took the - pangs of travail before her time, bore a male child, and died in the arms - of me—of her mortal enemy! Ay, <i>ye</i> may weep—she was a - sightly creature to see to—but think ye, if I didna mourn her then, - that I can mourn her now? Na, na, I left Teresa wi' the dead corpse and - new-born babe, till I gaed up to take the Countess's commands what was to - be done. Late as it was, I ca'd her up, and she gar'd me ca' up your - brother"— - </p> - <p> - "My brother?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, Lord Geraldin, e'en your brother, that some said she aye wished to - be her heir. At ony rate, he was the person maist concerned in the - succession and heritance of the house of Glenallan." - </p> - <p> - "And is it possible to believe, then, that my brother, out of avarice to - grasp at my inheritance, would lend himself to such a base and dreadful - stratagem?" - </p> - <p> - "Your mother believed it," said the old beldam with a fiendish laugh—"it - was nae plot of my making; but what they did or said I will not say, - because I did not hear. Lang and sair they consulted in the black wainscot - dressing-room; and when your brother passed through the room where I was - waiting, it seemed to me (and I have often thought sae since syne) that - the fire of hell was in his cheek and een. But he had left some of it with - his mother, at ony rate. She entered the room like a woman demented, and - the first words she spoke were, Elspeth Cheyne, did you ever pull a - new-budded flower?' I answered, as ye may believe, that I often had. - Then,' said she, ye will ken the better how to blight the spurious and - heretical blossom that has sprung forth this night to disgrace my father's - noble house—See here;'—(and she gave me a golden bodkin)—nothing - but gold must shed the blood of Glenallan. This child is already as one of - the dead, and since thou and Teresa alone ken that it lives, let it be - dealt upon as ye will answer to me!' and she turned away in her fury, and - left me with the bodkin in my hand.—Here it is; that and the ring of - Miss Neville, are a' I hae preserved of my ill-gotten gear—for - muckle was the gear I got. And weel hae I keepit the secret, but no for - the gowd or gear either." - </p> - <p> - Her long and bony hand held out to Lord Glenallan a gold bodkin, down - which in fancy he saw the blood of his infant trickling. - </p> - <p> - "Wretch! had you the heart?" - </p> - <p> - "I kenna if I could hae had it or no. I returned to my cottage without - feeling the ground that I trode on; but Teresa and the child were gane— - a' that was alive was gane—naething left but the lifeless corpse." - </p> - <p> - "And did you never learn my infant's fate?" - </p> - <p> - "I could but guess. I have tauld ye your mother's purpose, and I ken - Teresa was a fiend. She was never mair seen in Scotland, and I have heard - that she returned to her ain land. A dark curtain has fa'en ower the past, - and the few that witnessed ony part of it could only surmise something of - seduction and suicide. You yourself"— - </p> - <p> - "I know—I know it all," answered the Earl. - </p> - <p> - "You indeed know all that I can say—And now, heir of Glenallan, can - you forgive me?" - </p> - <p> - <a name="Aimage-0006" id="Aimage-0006"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pb150.jpg" alt="Lord Glenallen and Elspeth " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - "Ask forgiveness of God, and not of man," said the Earl, turning away. - </p> - <p> - "And how shall I ask of the pure and unstained what is denied to me by a - sinner like mysell? If I hae sinned, hae I not suffered?—Hae I had a - day's peace or an hour's rest since these lang wet locks of hair first lay - upon my pillow at Craigburnfoot?—Has not my house been burned, wi' - my bairn in the cradle?—Have not my boats been wrecked, when a' - others weather'd the gale?—Have not a' that were near and dear to me - dree'd penance for my sin?—Has not the fire had its share o' them—the - winds had their part—the sea had her part?—And oh!" she added, - with a lengthened groan, looking first upwards towards Heaven, and then - bending her eyes on the floor—"O that the earth would take her part, - that's been lang lang wearying to be joined to it!" - </p> - <p> - Lord Glenallan had reached the door of the cottage, but the generosity of - his nature did not permit him to leave the unhappy woman in this state of - desperate reprobation. "May God forgive thee, wretched woman," he said, - "as sincerely as I do!—Turn for mercy to Him who can alone grant - mercy, and may your prayers be heard as if they were mine own!—I - will send a religious man." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na—nae priest! nae priest!" she ejaculated; and the door of the - cottage opening as she spoke, prevented her from proceeding. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0013" id="Alink2HCH0013"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Still in his dead hand clenched remain the strings - That thrill his father's heart—e'en as the limb, - Lopped off and laid in grave, retains, they tell us, - Strange commerce with the mutilated stump, - Whose nerves are twinging still in maimed existence. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - The Antiquary, as we informed the reader in the end of the thirty-first - CHAPTER, [tenth] had shaken off the company of worthy Mr. Blattergowl, - although he offered to entertain him with an abstract of the ablest speech - he had ever known in the teind court, delivered by the procurator for the - church in the remarkable case of the parish of Gatherem. Resisting this - temptation, our senior preferred a solitary path, which again conducted - him to the cottage of Mucklebackit. When he came in front of the - fisherman's hut, he observed a man working intently, as if to repair a - shattered boat which lay upon the beach, and going up to him was surprised - to find it was Mucklebackit himself. "I am glad," he said in a tone of - sympathy—"I am glad, Saunders, that you feel yourself able to make - this exertion." - </p> - <p> - "And what would ye have me to do," answered the fisher gruffly, "unless I - wanted to see four children starve, because ane is drowned? It's weel wi' - you gentles, that can sit in the house wi' handkerchers at your een when - ye lose a friend; but the like o' us maun to our wark again, if our hearts - were beating as hard as my hammer." - </p> - <p> - Without taking more notice of Oldbuck, he proceeded in his labour; and the - Antiquary, to whom the display of human nature under the influence of - agitating passions was never indifferent, stood beside him, in silent - attention, as if watching the progress of the work. He observed more than - once the man's hard features, as if by the force of association, prepare - to accompany the sound of the saw and hammer with his usual symphony of a - rude tune, hummed or whistled,—and as often a slight twitch of - convulsive expression showed, that ere the sound was uttered, a cause for - suppressing it rushed upon his mind. At length, when he had patched a - considerable rent, and was beginning to mend another, his feelings - appeared altogether to derange the power of attention necessary for his - work. The piece of wood which he was about to nail on was at first too - long; then he sawed it off too short, then chose another equally ill - adapted for the purpose. At length, throwing it down in anger, after - wiping his dim eye with his quivering hand, he exclaimed, "There is a - curse either on me or on this auld black bitch of a boat, that I have - hauled up high and dry, and patched and clouted sae mony years, that she - might drown my poor Steenie at the end of them, an' be d—d to her!" - and he flung his hammer against the boat, as if she had been the - intentional cause of his misfortune. Then recollecting himself, he added, - "Yet what needs ane be angry at her, that has neither soul nor sense?—though - I am no that muckle better mysell. She's but a rickle o' auld rotten deals - nailed thegither, and warped wi' the wind and the sea—and I am a - dour carle, battered by foul weather at sea and land till I am maist as - senseless as hersell. She maun be mended though again the morning tide—that's - a thing o' necessity." - </p> - <p> - Thus speaking, he went to gather together his instruments, and attempt to - resume his labour,—but Oldbuck took him kindly by the arm. "Come, - come," he said, "Saunders, there is no work for you this day—I'll - send down Shavings the carpenter to mend the boat, and he may put the - day's work into my account—and you had better not come out - to-morrow, but stay to comfort your family under this dispensation, and - the gardener will bring you some vegetables and meal from Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - "I thank ye, Monkbarns," answered the poor fisher; "I am a plain-spoken - man, and hae little to say for mysell; I might hae learned fairer fashions - frae my mither lang syne, but I never saw muckle gude they did her; - however, I thank ye. Ye were aye kind and neighbourly, whatever folk says - o' your being near and close; and I hae often said, in thae times when - they were ganging to raise up the puir folk against the gentles—I - hae often said, neer a man should steer a hair touching to Monkbarns while - Steenie and I could wag a finger—and so said Steenie too. And, - Monkbarns, when ye laid his head in the grave (and mony thanks for the - respect), ye, saw the mouls laid on an honest lad that likit you weel, - though he made little phrase about it." - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck, beaten from the pride of his affected cynicism, would not - willingly have had any one by on that occasion to quote to him his - favourite maxims of the Stoic philosophy. The large drops fell fast from - his own eyes, as he begged the father, who was now melted at recollecting - the bravery and generous sentiments of his son, to forbear useless sorrow, - and led him by the arm towards his own home, where another scene awaited - our Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - As he entered, the first person whom he beheld was Lord Glenallan. Mutual - surprise was in their countenances as they saluted each other—with - haughty reserve on the part of Mr. Oldbuck, and embarrassment on that of - the Earl. - </p> - <p> - "My Lord Glenallan, I think?" said Mr. Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Yes—much changed from what he was when he knew Mr. Oldbuck." - </p> - <p> - "I do not mean," said the Antiquary, "to intrude upon your lordship—I - only came to see this distressed family." - </p> - <p> - "And you have found one, sir, who has still greater claims on your - compassion." - </p> - <p> - "My compassion? Lord Glenallan cannot need my compassion. If Lord - Glenallan could need it, I think he would hardly ask it." - </p> - <p> - "Our former acquaintance," said the Earl— - </p> - <p> - "Is of such ancient date, my lord—was of such short duration, and - was connected with circumstances so exquisitely painful, that I think we - may dispense with renewing it." - </p> - <p> - So saying, the Antiquary turned away, and left the hut; but Lord Glenallan - followed him into the open air, and, in spite of a hasty "Good morning, my - lord," requested a few minutes' conversation, and the favour of his advice - in an important matter. - </p> - <p> - "Your lordship will find many more capable to advise you, my lord, and by - whom your intercourse will be deemed an honour. For me, I am a man retired - from business and the world, and not very fond of raking up the past - events of my useless life;—and forgive me if I say, I have - particular pain in reverting to that period of it when I acted like a - fool, and your lordship like"—He stopped short. - </p> - <p> - "Like a villain, you would say," said Lord Glenallan—"for such I - must have appeared to you." - </p> - <p> - "My lord—my lord, I have no desire to hear your shrift," said the - Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "But, sir, if I can show you that I am more sinned against than sinning— - that I have been a man miserable beyond the power of description, and who - looks forward at this moment to an untimely grave as to a haven of rest, - you will not refuse the confidence which, accepting your appearance at - this critical moment as a hint from Heaven, I venture thus to press on - you." - </p> - <p> - "Assuredly, my lord, I shall shun no longer the continuation of this - extraordinary interview." - </p> - <p> - "I must then recall to you our occasional meetings upwards of twenty years - since at Knockwinnock Castle,—and I need not remind you of a lady - who was then a member of that family." - </p> - <p> - "The unfortunate Miss Eveline Neville, my lord; I remember it well." - </p> - <p> - "Towards whom you entertained sentiments"— - </p> - <p> - "Very different from those with which I before and since have regarded her - sex. Her gentleness, her docility, her pleasure in the studies which I - pointed out to her, attached my affections more than became my age though - that was not then much advanced—or the solidity of my character. But - I need not remind your lordship of the various modes in which you indulged - your gaiety at the expense of an awkward and retired student, embarrassed - by the expression of feelings so new to him, and I have no doubt that the - young lady joined you in the well-deserved ridicule—it is the way of - womankind. I have spoken at once to the painful circumstances of my - addresses and their rejection, that your lordship may be satisfied - everything is full in my memory, and may, so far as I am concerned, tell - your story without scruple or needless delicacy." - </p> - <p> - "I will," said Lord Glenallan. "But first let me say, you do injustice to - the memory of the gentlest and kindest, as well as to the most unhappy of - women, to suppose she could make a jest of the honest affection of a man - like you. Frequently did she blame me, Mr. Oldbuck, for indulging my - levity at your expense—may I now presume you will excuse the gay - freedoms which then offended you?—my state of mind has never since - laid me under the necessity of apologizing for the inadvertencies of a - light and happy temper." - </p> - <p> - "My lord, you are fully pardoned," said Mr. Oldbuck. "You should be aware, - that, like all others, I was ignorant at the time that I placed myself in - competition with your lordship, and understood that Miss Neville was in a - state of dependence which might make her prefer a competent independence - and the hand of an honest man—But I am wasting time—I would I - could believe that the views entertained towards her by others were as - fair and honest as mine!" - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Oldbuck, you judge harshly." - </p> - <p> - "Not without cause, my lord. When I only, of all the magistrates of this - county—having neither, like some of them, the honour to be connected - with your powerful family—nor, like others, the meanness to fear it,— - when I made some inquiry into the manner of Miss Neville's death—I - shake you, my lord, but I must be plain—I do own I had every reason - to believe that she had met most unfair dealing, and had either been - imposed upon by a counterfeit marriage, or that very strong measures had - been adopted to stifle and destroy the evidence of a real union. And I - cannot doubt in my own mind, that this cruelty on your lordship's part, - whether coming of your own free will, or proceeding from the influence of - the late Countess, hurried the unfortunate young lady to the desperate act - by which her life was terminated." - </p> - <p> - "You are deceived, Mr. Oldbuck, into conclusions which are not just, - however naturally they flow from the circumstances. Believe me, I - respected you even when I was most embarrassed by your active attempts to - investigate our family misfortunes. You showed yourself more worthy of - Miss Neville than I, by the spirit with which you persisted in vindicating - her reputation even after her death. But the firm belief that your - well-meant efforts could only serve to bring to light a story too horrible - to be detailed, induced me to join my unhappy mother in schemes to remove - or destroy all evidence of the legal union which had taken place between - Eveline and myself. And now let us sit down on this bank,—for I feel - unable to remain longer standing,—and have the goodness to listen to - the extraordinary discovery which I have this day made." - </p> - <p> - They sate down accordingly; and Lord Glenallan briefly narrated his - unhappy family history—his concealed marriage—the horrible - invention by which his mother had designed to render impossible that union - which had already taken place. He detailed the arts by which the Countess, - having all the documents relative to Miss Neville's birth in her hands, - had produced those only relating to a period during which, for family - reasons, his father had consented to own that young lady as his natural - daughter, and showed how impossible it was that he could either suspect or - detect the fraud put upon him by his mother, and vouched by the oaths of - her attendants, Teresa and Elspeth. "I left my paternal mansion," he - concluded, "as if the furies of hell had driven me forth, and travelled - with frantic velocity I knew not whither. Nor have I the slightest - recollection of what I did or whither I went, until I was discovered by my - brother. I will not trouble you with an account of my sick-bed and - recovery, or how, long afterwards, I ventured to inquire after the sharer - of my misfortunes, and heard that her despair had found a dreadful remedy - for all the ills of life. The first thing that roused me to thought was - hearing of your inquiries into this cruel business; and you will hardly - wonder, that, believing what I did believe, I should join in those - expedients to stop your investigation, which my brother and mother had - actively commenced. The information which I gave them concerning the - circumstances and witnesses of our private marriage enabled them to baffle - your zeal. The clergyman, therefore, and witnesses, as persons who had - acted in the matter only to please the powerful heir of Glenallan, were - accessible to his promises and threats, and were so provided for, that - they had no objections to leave this country for another. For myself, Mr. - Oldbuck," pursued this unhappy man, "from that moment I considered myself - as blotted out of the book of the living, and as having nothing left to do - with this world. My mother tried to reconcile me to life by every art—even - by intimations which I can now interpret as calculated to produce a doubt - of the horrible tale she herself had fabricated. But I construed all she - said as the fictions of maternal affection. I will forbear all reproach. - She is no more—and, as her wretched associate said, she knew not how - the dart was poisoned, or how deep it must sink, when she threw it from - her hand. But, Mr. Oldbuck, if ever, during these twenty years, there - crawled upon earth a living being deserving of your pity, I have been that - man. My food has not nourished me—my sleep has not refreshed me—my - devotions have not comforted me—all that is cheering and necessary - to man has been to me converted into poison. The rare and limited - intercourse which I have held with others has been most odious to me. I - felt as if I were bringing the contamination of unnatural and - inexpressible guilt among the gay and the innocent. There have been - moments when I had thoughts of another description—to plunge into - the adventures of war, or to brave the dangers of the traveller in foreign - and barbarous climates—to mingle in political intrigue, or to retire - to the stern seclusion of the anchorites of our religion;—all these - are thoughts which have alternately passed through my mind, but each - required an energy, which was mine no longer, after the withering stroke I - had received. I vegetated on as I could in the same spot—fancy, - feeling, judgment, and health, gradually decaying, like a tree whose bark - has been destroyed,—when first the blossoms fade, then the boughs, - until its state resembles the decayed and dying trunk that is now before - you. Do you now pity and forgive me?" - </p> - <p> - "My lord," answered the Antiquary, much affected, "my pity—my - forgiveness, you have not to ask, for your dismal story is of itself not - only an ample excuse for whatever appeared mysterious in your conduct, but - a narrative that might move your worst enemies (and I, my lord, was never - of the number) to tears and to sympathy. But permit me to ask what you now - mean to do, and why you have honoured me, whose opinion can be of little - consequence, with your confidence on this occasion?" - </p> - <p> - "Mr. Oldbuck," answered the Earl, "as I could never have foreseen the - nature of that confession which I have heard this day, I need not say that - I had no formed plan of consulting you, or any one, upon affairs the - tendency of which I could not even have suspected. But I am without - friends, unused to business, and, by long retirement, unacquainted alike - with the laws of the land and the habits of the living generation; and - when, most unexpectedly, I find myself immersed in the matters of which I - know least, I catch, like a drowning man, at the first support that - offers. You are that support, Mr. Oldbuck. I have always heard you - mentioned as a man of wisdom and intelligence—I have known you - myself as a man of a resolute and independent spirit;—and there is - one circumstance," said he, "which ought to combine us in some degree—our - having paid tribute to the same excellence of character in poor Eveline. - You offered yourself to me in my need, and you were already acquainted - with the beginning of my misfortunes. To you, therefore, I have recourse - for advice, for sympathy, for support." - </p> - <p> - "You shall seek none of them in vain, my lord," said Oldbuck, "so far as - my slender ability extends;—and I am honoured by the preference, - whether it arises from choice, or is prompted by chance. But this is a - matter to be ripely considered. May I ask what are your principal views at - present?" - </p> - <p> - "To ascertain the fate of my child," said the Earl, "be the consequences - what they may, and to do justice to the honour of Eveline, which I have - only permitted to be suspected to avoid discovery of the yet more horrible - taint to which I was made to believe it liable." - </p> - <p> - "And the memory of your mother?" - </p> - <p> - "Must bear its own burden," answered the Earl with a sigh: "better that - she were justly convicted of deceit, should that be found necessary, than - that others should be unjustly accused of crimes so much more dreadful." - </p> - <p> - "Then, my lord," said Oldbuck, "our first business must be to put the - information of the old woman, Elspeth, into a regular and authenticated - form." - </p> - <p> - "That," said Lord Glenallan, "will be at present, I fear, impossible. She - is exhausted herself, and surrounded by her distressed family. To-morrow, - perhaps, when she is alone—and yet I doubt, from her imperfect sense - of right and wrong, whether she would speak out in any one's presence but - my own. I am too sorely fatigued." - </p> - <p> - "Then, my lord," said the Antiquary, whom the interest of the moment - elevated above points of expense and convenience, which had generally more - than enough of weight with him, "I would propose to your lordship, instead - of returning, fatigued as you are, so far as to Glenallan House, or taking - the more uncomfortable alternative of going to a bad inn at Fairport, to - alarm all the busybodies of the town—I would propose, I say, that - you should be my guest at Monkbarns for this night. By to-morrow these - poor people will have renewed their out-of-doors vocation—for sorrow - with them affords no respite from labour,—and we will visit the old - woman Elspeth alone, and take down her examination." - </p> - <p> - After a formal apology for the encroachment, Lord Glenallan agreed to go - with him, and underwent with patience in their return home the whole - history of John of the Girnel, a legend which Mr. Oldbuck was never known - to spare any one who crossed his threshold. - </p> - <p> - The arrival of a stranger of such note, with two saddle-horses and a - servant in black, which servant had holsters on his saddle-bow, and a - coronet upon the holsters, created a general commotion in the house of - Monkbarns. Jenny Rintherout, scarce recovered from the hysterics which she - had taken on hearing of poor Steenie's misfortune, chased about the - turkeys and poultry, cackled and screamed louder than they did, and ended - by killing one-half too many. Miss Griselda made many wise reflections on - the hot-headed wilfulness of her brother, who had occasioned such - devastation, by suddenly bringing in upon them a papist nobleman. And she - ventured to transmit to Mr. Blattergowl some hint of the unusual slaughter - which had taken place in the <i>basse-cour,</i> which brought the honest - clergyman to inquire how his friend Monkbarns had got home, and whether he - was not the worse of being at the funeral, at a period so near the ringing - of the bell for dinner, that the Antiquary had no choice left but to - invite him to stay and bless the meat. Miss M'Intyre had on her part some - curiosity to see this mighty peer, of whom all had heard, as an eastern - caliph or sultan is heard of by his subjects, and felt some degree of - timidity at the idea of encountering a person, of whose unsocial habits - and stern manners so many stories were told, that her fear kept at least - pace with her curiosity. The aged housekeeper was no less flustered and - hurried in obeying the numerous and contradictory commands of her - mistress, concerning preserves, pastry and fruit, the mode of marshalling - and dishing the dinner, the necessity of not permitting the melted butter - to run to oil, and the danger of allowing Juno—who, though formally - banished from the parlour, failed not to maraud about the out-settlements - of the family—to enter the kitchen. - </p> - <p> - The only inmate of Monkbarns who remained entirely indifferent on this - momentous occasion was Hector M'Intyre, who cared no more for an Earl than - he did for a commoner, and who was only interested in the unexpected - visit, as it might afford some protection against his uncle's displeasure, - if he harboured any, for his not attending the funeral, and still more - against his satire upon the subject of his gallant but unsuccessful single - combat with the <i>phoca,</i> or seal. - </p> - <p> - To these, the inmates of his household, Oldbuck presented the Earl of - Glenallan, who underwent, with meek and subdued civility, the prosing - speeches of the honest divine, and the lengthened apologies of Miss - Griselda Oldbuck, which her brother in vain endeavoured to abridge. Before - the dinner hour, Lord Glenallan requested permission to retire a while to - his chamber. Mr. Oldbuck accompanied his guest to the Green Room, which - had been hastily prepared for his reception. He looked around with an air - of painful recollection. - </p> - <p> - "I think," at length he observed, "I think, Mr. Oldbuck, that I have been - in this apartment before." - </p> - <p> - "Yes, my lord," answered Oldbuck, "upon occasion of an excursion hither - from Knockwinnock—and since we are upon a subject so melancholy, you - may perhaps remember whose taste supplied these lines from Chaucer, which - now form the motto of the tapestry." - </p> - <p> - "I guess", said the Earl, "though I cannot recollect. She excelled me, - indeed, in literary taste and information, as in everything else; and it - is one of the mysterious dispensations of Providence, Mr. Oldbuck, that a - creature so excellent in mind and body should have been cut off in so - miserable a manner, merely from her having formed a fatal attachment to - such a wretch as I am." - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck did not attempt an answer to this burst of the grief which lay - ever nearest to the heart of his guest, but, pressing Lord Glenallan's - hand with one of his own, and drawing the other across his shaggy - eyelashes, as if to brush away a mist that intercepted his sight, he left - the Earl at liberty to arrange himself previous to dinner. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0014" id="Alink2HCH0014"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FOURTEENTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —Life, with you, - Glows in the brain and dances in the arteries; - 'Tis like the wine some joyous guest hath quaffed, - That glads the heart and elevates the fancy: - Mine is the poor residuum of the cup, - Vapid, and dull, and tasteless, only soiling, - With its base dregs, the vessel that contains it. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - "Now, only think what a man my brother is, Mr. Blattergowl, for a wise man - and a learned man, to bring this Yerl into our house without speaking a - word to a body! And there's the distress of thae Mucklebackits—we - canna get a fin o' fish—and we hae nae time to send ower to Fairport - for beef, and the mutton's but new killed—and that silly fliskmahoy, - Jenny Rintherout, has taen the exies, and done naething but laugh and - greet, the skirl at the tail o' the guffaw, for twa days successfully—and - now we maun ask that strange man, that's as grand and as grave as the Yerl - himsell, to stand at the sideboard! and I canna gang into the kitchen to - direct onything, for he's hovering there, making some pousowdie* for my - Lord, for he doesna eat like ither folk neither—And how to sort the - strange servant man at dinner time—I am sure, Mr. Blattergowl, - a'thegither, it passes my judgment." - </p> - <p> - * <i>Pousowdie,</i>—Miscellaneous mess. - </p> - <p> - "Truly, Miss Griselda," replied the divine, "Monkbarns was inconsiderate. - He should have taen a day to see the invitation, as they do wi' the - titular's condescendence in the process of valuation and sale. But the - great man could not have come on a sudden to ony house in this parish - where he could have been better served with <i>vivers</i>—that I - must say—and also that the steam from the kitchen is very gratifying - to my nostrils;—and if ye have ony household affairs to attend to, - Mrs. Griselda, never make a stranger of me—I can amuse mysell very - weel with the larger copy of Erskine's Institutes." - </p> - <p> - And taking down from the window-seat that amusing folio, (the Scottish - Coke upon Littleton), he opened it, as if instinctively, at the tenth - title of Book Second, "of Teinds or Tythes," and was presently deeply - wrapped up in an abstruse discussion concerning the temporality of - benefices. - </p> - <p> - The entertainment, about which Miss Oldbuck expressed so much anxiety, was - at length placed upon the table; and the Earl of Glenallan, for the first - time since the date of his calamity, sat at a stranger's board, surrounded - by strangers. He seemed to himself like a man in a dream, or one whose - brain was not fully recovered from the effects of an intoxicating potion. - Relieved, as he had that morning been, from the image of guilt which had - so long haunted his imagination, he felt his sorrows as a lighter and more - tolerable load, but was still unable to take any share in the conversation - that passed around him. It was, indeed, of a cast very different from that - which he had been accustomed to. The bluntness of Oldbuck, the tiresome - apologetic harangues of his sister, the pedantry of the divine, and the - vivacity of the young soldier, which savoured much more of the camp than - of the court, were all new to a nobleman who had lived in a retired and - melancholy state for so many years, that the manners of the world seemed - to him equally strange and unpleasing. Miss M'Intyre alone, from the - natural politeness and unpretending simplicity of her manners, appeared to - belong to that class of society to which he had been accustomed in his - earlier and better days. - </p> - <p> - Nor did Lord Glenallan's deportment less surprise the company. Though a - plain but excellent family-dinner was provided (for, as Mr. Blattergowl - had justly said, it was impossible to surprise Miss Griselda when her - larder was empty), and though the Antiquary boasted his best port, and - assimilated it to the Falernian of Horace, Lord Glenallan was proof to the - allurements of both. His servant placed before him a small mess of - vegetables, that very dish, the cooking of which had alarmed Miss - Griselda, arranged with the most minute and scrupulous neatness. He ate - sparingly of these provisions; and a glass of pure water, sparkling from - the fountain-head, completed his repast. Such, his servant said, had been - his lordship's diet for very many years, unless upon the high festivals of - the Church, or when company of the first rank were entertained at - Glenallan House, when he relaxed a little in the austerity of his diet, - and permitted himself a glass or two of wine. But at Monkbarns, no - anchoret could have made a more simple and scanty meal. - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary was a gentleman, as we have seen, in feeling, but blunt and - careless in expression, from the habit of living with those before whom he - had nothing to suppress. He attacked his noble guest without scruple on - the severity of his regimen. - </p> - <p> - "A few half-cold greens and potatoes—a glass of ice-cold water to - wash them down—antiquity gives no warrant for it, my lord. This - house used to be accounted a <i>hospitium,</i> a place of retreat for - Christians; but your lordship's diet is that of a heathen Pythagorean, or - Indian Bramin—nay, more severe than either, if you refuse these fine - apples." - </p> - <p> - "I am a Catholic, you are aware," said Lord Glenallan, wishing to escape - from the discussion, "and you know that our church"—— - </p> - <p> - "Lays down many rules of mortification," proceeded the dauntless - Antiquary; "but I never heard that they were quite so rigorously practised—Bear - witness my predecessor, John of the Girnel, or the jolly Abbot, who gave - his name to this apple, my lord." - </p> - <p> - And as he pared the fruit, in spite of his sister's "O fie, Monkbarns!" - and the prolonged cough of the minister, accompanied by a shake of his - huge wig, the Antiquary proceeded to detail the intrigue which had given - rise to the fame of the abbot's apple with more slyness and - circumstantiality than was at all necessary. His jest (as may readily be - conceived) missed fire, for this anecdote of conventual gallantry failed - to produce the slightest smile on the visage of the Earl. Oldbuck then - took up the subject of Ossian, Macpherson, and Mac-Cribb; but Lord - Glenallan had never so much as heard of any of the three, so little - conversant had he been with modern literature. The conversation was now in - some danger of flagging, or of falling into the hands of Mr. Blattergowl, - who had just pronounced the formidable word, "teind-free," when the - subject of the French Revolution was started—a political event on - which Lord Glenallan looked with all the prejudiced horror of a bigoted - Catholic and zealous aristocrat. Oldbuck was far from carrying his - detestation of its principles to such a length. - </p> - <p> - "There were many men in the first Constituent Assembly," he said, "who - held sound Whiggish doctrines, and were for settling the Constitution with - a proper provision for the liberties of the people. And if a set of - furious madmen were now in possession of the government, it was," he - continued, "what often happened in great revolutions, where extreme - measures are adopted in the fury of the moment, and the State resembles an - agitated pendulum which swings from side to side for some time ere it can - acquire its due and perpendicular station. Or it might be likened to a - storm or hurricane, which, passing over a region, does great damage in its - passage, yet sweeps away stagnant and unwholesome vapours, and repays, in - future health and fertility, its immediate desolation and ravage." - </p> - <p> - The Earl shook his head; but having neither spirit nor inclination for - debate, he suffered the argument to pass uncontested. - </p> - <p> - This discussion served to introduce the young soldier's experiences; and - he spoke of the actions in which he, had been engaged, with modesty, and - at the same time with an air of spirit and zeal which delighted the Earl, - who had been bred up, like others of his house, in the opinion that the - trade of arms was the first duty of man, and believed that to employ them - against the French was a sort of holy warfare. - </p> - <p> - "What would I give," said he apart to Oldbuck, as they rose to join the - ladies in the drawing-room, "what would I give to have a son of such - spirit as that young gentleman!—He wants something of address and - manner, something of polish, which mixing in good society would soon give - him; but with what zeal and animation he expresses himself—how fond - of his profession—how loud in the praise of others—how modest - when speaking of himself!" - </p> - <p> - "Hector is much obliged to you, my lord," replied his uncle, gratified, - yet not so much so as to suppress his consciousness of his own mental - superiority over the young soldier; "I believe in my heart nobody ever - spoke half so much good of him before, except perhaps the sergeant of his - company, when was wheedling a Highland recruit to enlist with him. He is a - good lad notwithstanding, although he be not quite the hero your lordship - supposes him, and although my commendations rather attest the kindness - than the vivacity of his character. In fact, his high spirit is a sort of - constitutional vehemence, which attends him in everything he sets about, - and is often very inconvenient to his friends. I saw him to-day engage in - an animated contest with a <i>phoca,</i> or seal (<i>sealgh,</i> our - people more properly call them, retaining the Gothic guttural <i>gh</i>), - with as much vehemence as if he had fought against Dumourier—Marry, - my lord, the <i>phoca</i> had the better, as the said Dumourier had of - some other folks. And he'll talk with equal if not superior rapture of the - good behaviour of a pointer bitch, as of the plan of a campaign." - </p> - <p> - "He shall have full permission to sport over my grounds," said the Earl, - "if he is so fond of that exercise." - </p> - <p> - "You will bind him to you, my lord," said Monkbarns, "body and soul: give - him leave to crack off his birding-piece at a poor covey of partridges or - moor-fowl, and he's yours for ever—I will enchant him by the - intelligence. But O, my lord, that you could have seen my phoenix Lovel!—the - very prince and chieftain of the youth of this age; and not destitute of - spirit neither—I promise you he gave my termagant kinsman a <i>quid - pro quo</i>—a Rowland for his Oliver, as the vulgar say, alluding to - the two celebrated Paladins of Charlemagne." - </p> - <p> - After coffee, Lord Glenallan requested a private interview with the - Antiquary, and was ushered to his library. - </p> - <p> - "I must withdraw you from your own amiable family," he said, "to involve - you in the perplexities of an unhappy man. You are acquainted with the - world, from which I have long been banished; for Glenallan House has been - to me rather a prison than a dwelling, although a prison which I had - neither fortitude nor spirit to break from." - </p> - <p> - "Let me first ask your lordship," said the Antiquary, "what are your own - wishes and designs in this matter?" - </p> - <p> - "I wish most especially," answered Lord Glenallan, "to declare my luckless - marriage, and to vindicate the reputation of the unhappy Eveline—that - is, if you see a possibility of doing so without making public the conduct - of my mother." - </p> - <p> - "<i>Suum cuique tribuito,</i>" said the Antiquary; "do right to everyone. - The memory of that unhappy young lady has too long suffered, and I think - it might be cleared without further impeaching that of your mother, than - by letting it be understood in general that she greatly disapproved and - bitterly opposed the match. All—forgive me, my lord—all who - ever heard of the late Countess of Glenallan, will learn that without much - surprise." - </p> - <p> - "But you forget one horrible circumstance, Mr. Oldbuck," said the Earl, in - an agitated voice. - </p> - <p> - "I am not aware of it," replied the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "The fate of the infant—its disappearance with the confidential - attendant of my mother, and the dreadful surmises which may be drawn from - my conversation with Elspeth." - </p> - <p> - "If you would have my free opinion, my lord," answered Mr. Oldbuck, "and - will not catch too rapidly at it as matter of hope, I would say that it is - very possible the child yet lives. For thus much I ascertained, by my - former inquiries concerning the event of that deplorable evening, that a - child and woman were carried that night from the cottage at the - Craigburnfoot in a carriage and four by your brother Edward Geraldin - Neville, whose journey towards England with these companions I traced for - several stages. I believed then it was a part of the family compact to - carry a child whom you meant to stigmatize with illegitimacy, out of that - country where chance might have raised protectors and proofs of its - rights. But I now think that your brother, having reason, like yourself, - to believe the child stained with shame yet more indelible, had - nevertheless withdrawn it, partly from regard to the honour of his house, - partly from the risk to which it might have been exposed in the - neighbourhood of the Lady Glenallan." - </p> - <p> - As he spoke, the Earl of Glenallan grew extremely pale, and had nearly - fallen from his chair.—The alarmed Antiquary ran hither and thither - looking for remedies; but his museum, though sufficiently well filled with - a vast variety of useless matters, contained nothing that could be - serviceable on the present or any other occasion. As he posted out of the - room to borrow his sister's salts, he could not help giving a - constitutional growl of chagrin and wonder at the various incidents which - had converted his mansion, first into an hospital for a wounded duellist, - and now into the sick chamber of a dying nobleman. "And yet," said he, "I - have always kept aloof from the soldiery and the peerage. My <i>coenobitium</i> - has only next to be made a lying-in hospital, and then, I trow, the - transformation will be complete." - </p> - <p> - When he returned with the remedy, Lord Glenallan was much better. The new - and unexpected light which Mr. Oldbuck had thrown upon the melancholy - history of his family had almost overpowered him. "You think, then, Mr. - Oldbuck—for you are capable of thinking, which I am not—you - think, then, that it is possible—that is, not impossible—my - child may yet live?" - </p> - <p> - "I think," said the Antiquary, "it is impossible that it could come to any - violent harm through your brother's means. He was known to be a gay and - dissipated man, but not cruel nor dishonourable; nor is it possible, that, - if he had intended any foul play, he would have placed himself so forward - in the charge of the infant, as I will prove to your lordship he did." - </p> - <p> - So saying, Mr. Oldbuck opened a drawer of the cabinet of his ancestor - Aldobrand, and produced a bundle of papers tied with a black ribband, and - labelled,—Examinations, etc., taken by Jonathan Oldbuck, J. P., upon - the 18th of February, 17—; a little under was written, in a small - hand, <i>Eheu Evelina</i>! The tears dropped fast from the Earl's eyes, as - he endeavoured, in vain, to unfasten the knot which secured these - documents. - </p> - <p> - "Your lordship," said Mr. Oldbuck, "had better not read these at present. - Agitated as you are, and having much business before you, you must not - exhaust your strength. Your brother's succession is now, I presume, your - own, and it will be easy for you to make inquiry among his servants and - retainers, so as to hear where the child is, if, fortunately, it shall be - still alive." - </p> - <p> - "I dare hardly hope it," said the Earl, with a deep sigh. "Why should my - brother have been silent to me?" - </p> - <p> - "Nay, my lord, why should he have communicated to your lordship the - existence of a being whom you must have supposed the offspring of"— - </p> - <p> - "Most true—there is an obvious and a kind reason for his being - silent. If anything, indeed, could have added to the horror of the ghastly - dream that has poisoned my whole existence, it must have been the - knowledge that such a child of misery existed." - </p> - <p> - "Then," continued the Antiquary, "although it would be rash to conclude, - at the distance of more than twenty years, that your son must needs be - still alive because he was not destroyed in infancy, I own I think you - should instantly set on foot inquiries." - </p> - <p> - "It shall be done," replied Lord Glenallan, catching eagerly at the hope - held out to him, the first he had nourished for many years;—"I will - write to a faithful steward of my father, who acted in the same capacity - under my brother Neville—But, Mr. Oldbuck, I am not my brother's - heir." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed!—I am sorry for that, my lord—it is a noble estate, - and the ruins of the old castle of Neville's-Burgh alone, which are the - most superb relics of Anglo-Norman architecture in that part of the - country, are a possession much to be coveted. I thought your father had no - other son or near relative." - </p> - <p> - "He had not, Mr. Oldbuck," replied Lord Glenallan; "but my brother adopted - views in politics, and a form of religion, alien from those which had been - always held by our house. Our tempers had long differed, nor did my - unhappy mother always think him sufficiently observant to her. In short, - there was a family quarrel, and my brother, whose property was at his own - free disposal, availed himself of the power vested in him to choose a - stranger for his heir. It is a matter which never struck me as being of - the least consequence—for if worldly possessions could alleviate - misery, I have enough and to spare. But now I shall regret it, if it - throws any difficulty in the way of our inquiries—and I bethink me - that it may; for in case of my having a lawful son of my body, and my - brother dying without issue, my father's possessions stood entailed upon - my son. It is not therefore likely that this heir, be he who he may, will - afford us assistance in making a discovery which may turn out so much to - his own prejudice." - </p> - <p> - "And in all probability the steward your lordship mentions is also in his - service," said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "It is most likely; and the man being a Protestant—how far it is - safe to entrust him"— - </p> - <p> - "I should hope, my lord," said Oldbuck gravely, "that a Protestant may be - as trustworthy as a Catholic. I am doubly interested in the Protestant - faith, my lord. My ancestor, Aldobrand Oldenbuck, printed the celebrated - Confession of Augsburg, as I can show by the original edition now in this - house." - </p> - <p> - "I have not the least doubt of what you say, Mr. Oldbuck," replied the - Earl, "nor do I speak out of bigotry or intolerance; but probably the - Protestant steward will favour the Protestant heir rather than the - Catholic—if, indeed, my son has been bred in his father's faith—or, - alas! if indeed he yet lives." - </p> - <p> - "We must look close into this," said Oldbuck, "before committing - ourselves. I have a literary friend at York, with whom I have long - corresponded on the subject of the Saxon horn that is preserved in the - Minster there; we interchanged letters for six years, and have only as yet - been able to settle the first line of the inscription. I will write - forthwith to this gentleman, Dr. Dryasdust, and be particular in my - inquiries concerning the character, etc., of your brother's heir, of the - gentleman employed in his affairs, and what else may be likely to further - your lordship's inquiries. In the meantime your lordship will collect the - evidence of the marriage, which I hope can still be recovered?" - </p> - <p> - "Unquestionably," replied the Earl: "the witnesses, who were formerly - withdrawn from your research, are still living. My tutor, who solemnized - the marriage, was provided for by a living in France, and has lately - returned to this country as an emigrant, a victim of his zeal for loyalty, - legitimacy, and religion." - </p> - <p> - "That's one lucky consequence of the French, revolution, my lord—you - must allow that, at least," said Oldbuck: "but no offence; I will act as - warmly in your affairs as if I were of your own faith in politics and - religion. And take my advice—If you want an affair of consequence - properly managed, put it into the hands of an antiquary; for as they are - eternally exercising their genius and research upon trifles, it is - impossible they can be baffled in affairs of importance;—use makes - perfect—and the corps that is most frequently drilled upon the - parade, will be most prompt in its exercise upon the day of battle. And, - talking upon that subject, I would willingly read to your lordship, in - order to pass away the time betwixt and supper"— - </p> - <p> - "I beg I may not interfere with family arrangements," said Lord Glenallan, - "but I never taste anything after sunset." - </p> - <p> - "Nor I either, my lord," answered his host, "notwithstanding it is said to - have been the custom of the ancients. But then I dine differently from - your lordship, and therefore am better enabled to dispense with those - elaborate entertainments which my womankind (that is, my sister and niece, - my lord) are apt to place on the table, for the display rather of their - own house-wifery than the accommodation of our wants. However, a broiled - bone, or a smoked haddock, or an oyster, or a slice of bacon of our own - curing, with a toast and a tankard—or something or other of that - sort, to close the orifice of the stomach before going to bed, does not - fall under my restriction, nor, I hope, under your lordship's." - </p> - <p> - "My no-supper is literal, Mr. Oldbuck; but I will attend you at your meal - with pleasure." - </p> - <p> - "Well, my lord," replied the Antiquary, "I will endeavour to entertain - your ears at least, since I cannot banquet your palate. What I am about to - read to your lordship relates to the upland glens." - </p> - <p> - Lord Glenallan, though he would rather have recurred to the subject of his - own uncertainties, was compelled to make a sign of rueful civility and - acquiescence. - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary, therefore, took out his portfolio of loose sheets, and - after premising that the topographical details here laid down were - designed to illustrate a slight essay upon castrametation, which had been - read with indulgence at several societies of Antiquaries, he commenced as - follows: "The subject, my lord, is the hill-fort of Quickens-bog, with the - site of which your lordship is doubtless familiar—it is upon your - store-farm of Mantanner, in the barony of Clochnaben." - </p> - <p> - "I think I have heard the names of these places," said the Earl, in answer - to the Antiquary's appeal. - </p> - <p> - "Heard the name? and the farm brings him six hundred a-year—O Lord!" - </p> - <p> - Such was the scarce-subdued ejaculation of the Antiquary. But his - hospitality got the better of his surprise, and he proceeded to read his - essay with an audible voice, in great glee at having secured a patient, - and, as he fondly hoped, an interested hearer. - </p> - <p> - "Quickens-bog may at first seem to derive its name from the plant <i>Quicken,</i> - by which, <i>Scottice,</i> we understand couch-grass, dog-grass, or the <i>Triticum - repens</i> of Linnaeus, and the common English monosyllable <i>Bog,</i> by - which we mean, in popular language, a marsh or morass—in Latin, <i>Palus.</i> - But it may confound the rash adopters of the more obvious etymological - derivations, to learn that the couch-grass or dog-grass, or, to speak - scientifically, the <i>Triticum repens</i> of Linnaeus, does not grow - within a quarter of a mile of this castrum or hill-fort, whose ramparts - are uniformly clothed with short verdant turf; and that we must seek a bog - or <i>palus</i> at a still greater distance, the nearest being that of - Gird-the-mear, a full half-mile distant. The last syllable, <i>bog,</i> is - obviously, therefore, a mere corruption of the Saxon <i>Burgh,</i> which - we find in the various transmutations of <i>Burgh, Burrow, Brough, Bruff, - Buff,</i> and <i>Boff,</i> which last approaches very near the sound in - question—since, supposing the word to have been originally <i>borgh,</i> - which is the genuine Saxon spelling, a slight change, such as modern - organs too often make upon ancient sounds, will produce first <i>Bogh,</i> - and then, <i>elisa H,</i> or compromising and sinking the guttural, - agreeable to the common vernacular practice, you have either <i>Boff</i> - or <i>Bog</i> as it happens. The word <i>Quickens</i> requires in like - manner to be altered,—decomposed, as it were,—and reduced to - its original and genuine sound, ere we can discern its real meaning. By - the ordinary exchange of the <i>Qu</i> into <i>Wh,</i> familiar to the - rudest tyro who has opened a book of old Scottish poetry, we gain either - Whilkens, or Whichensborgh—put we may suppose, by way of question, - as if those who imposed the name, struck with the extreme antiquity of the - place, had expressed in it an interrogation, To whom did this fortress - belong?'—Or, it might be <i>Whackens-burgh,</i> from the Saxon <i>Whacken,</i> - to strike with the hand, as doubtless the skirmishes near a place of such - apparent consequence must have legitimated such a derivation," etc. etc. - etc. - </p> - <p> - I will be more merciful to my readers than Oldbuck was to his guest; for, - considering his opportunities of gaining patient attention from a person - of such consequence as Lord Glenallan were not many, he used, or rather - abused, the present to the uttermost. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0015" id="Alink2HCH0015"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Crabbed age and youth - Cannot live together:— - Youth is full of pleasance, - Age is full of care; - Youth like summer morn, - Age like winter weather; - Youth like summer brave, - Age like winter bare. - Shakspeare. -</pre> - <p> - In the morning of the following day, the Antiquary, who was something of a - sluggard, was summoned from his bed a full hour earlier than his custom by - Caxon. "What's the matter now?" he exclaimed, yawning and stretching forth - his hand to the huge gold repeater, which, bedded upon his India silk - handkerchief, was laid safe by his pillow—"what's the matter now, - Caxon?—it can't be eight o'clock yet." - </p> - <p> - "Na, sir,—but my lord's man sought me out, for he fancies me your - honour's valley-de-sham,—and sae I am, there's nae doubt o't, baith - your honour's and the minister's—at least ye hae nae other that I - ken o'—and I gie a help to Sir Arthur too, but that's mair in the - way o' my profession." - </p> - <p> - "Well, well—never mind that," said the Antiquary—"happy is he - that is his own valley-de-sham, as you call it—But why disturb my - morning's rest?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, sir, the great man's been up since peep o' day, and he's steered the - town to get awa an express to fetch his carriage, and it will be here - briefly, and he wad like to see your honour afore he gaes awa." - </p> - <p> - "Gadso!" ejaculated Oldbuck, "these great men use one's house and time as - if they were their own property. Well, it's once and away. Has Jenny come - to her senses yet, Caxon?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth, sir, but just middling," replied the barber; "she's been in a - swither about the jocolate this morning, and was like to hae toomed it a' - out into the slap-bason, and drank it hersell in her ecstacies—but - she's won ower wi't, wi' the help o' Miss M'Intyre." - </p> - <p> - "Then all my womankind are on foot and scrambling, and I must enjoy my - quiet bed no longer, if I would have a well-regulated house—Lend me - my gown. And what are the news at Fairport?" - </p> - <p> - "Ou, sir, what can they be about but this grand news o' my lord," answered - the old man, "that hasna been ower the door-stane, they threep to me, for - this twenty years—this grand news of his coming to visit your - honour?" - </p> - <p> - "Aha!" said Monkbarns; "and what do they say of that, Caxon?" - </p> - <p> - "'Deed, sir, they hae various opinions. Thae fallows, that are the - democraws, as they ca' them, that are again' the king and the law, and - hairpowder and dressing o' gentlemen's wigs—a wheen blackguards—they - say he's come doun to speak wi' your honour about bringing doun his hill - lads and Highland tenantry to break up the meetings of the Friends o' the - People;—and when I said your honour never meddled wi' the like o' - sic things where there was like to be straiks and bloodshed, they said, if - ye didna, your nevoy did, and that he was weel ken'd to be a kingsman that - wad fight knee-deep, and that ye were the head and he was the hand, and - that the Yerl was to bring out the men and the siller." - </p> - <p> - "Come," said the Antiquary, laughing—"I am glad the war is to cost - me nothing but counsel." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na," said Caxon—"naebody thinks your honour wad either fight - yoursell, or gie ony feck o' siller to ony side o' the question." - </p> - <p> - "Umph! well, that's the opinion of the democraws, as you call them—What - say the rest o' Fairport?" - </p> - <p> - "In troth," said the candid reporter, "I canna say it's muckle better. - Captain Coquet, of the volunteers—that's him that's to be the new - collector,—and some of the other gentlemen of the Blue and a' Blue - Club, are just saying it's no right to let popists, that hae sae mony - French friends as the Yerl of Glenallan, gang through the country, and—but - your honour will maybe be angry?" - </p> - <p> - "Not I, Caxon," said Oldbuck; "fire away as if you were Captain Coquet's - whole platoon—I can stand it." - </p> - <p> - "Weel then, they say, sir, that as ye didna encourage the petition about - the peace, and wadna petition in favour of the new tax, and as you were - again' bringing in the yeomanry at the meal mob, but just for settling the - folk wi' the constables—they say ye're no a gude friend to - government; and that thae sort o' meetings between sic a powerfu' man as - the Yerl, and sic a wise man as you,—Od they think they suld be - lookit after; and some say ye should baith be shankit aff till Edinburgh - Castle." - </p> - <p> - "On my word," said the Antiquary, "I am infinitely obliged to my - neighbours for their good opinion of me! And so I, that have never - interfered with their bickerings, but to recommend quiet and moderate - measures, am given up on both sides as a man very likely to commit high - treason, either against King or People?—Give me my coat, Caxon—give - me my coat;—it's lucky I live not in their report. Have you heard - anything of Taffril and his vessel?" - </p> - <p> - Caxon's countenance fell.—"Na, sir, and the winds hae been high, and - this is a fearfu' coast to cruise on in thae eastern gales,—the - headlands rin sae far out, that a veshel's embayed afore I could sharp a - razor; and then there's nae harbour or city of refuge on our coast—a' - craigs and breakers;—a veshel that rins ashore wi' us flees asunder - like the powther when I shake the pluff—and it's as ill to gather - ony o't again. I aye tell my daughter thae things when she grows wearied - for a letter frae Lieutenant Taffril—It's aye an apology for him. Ye - sudna blame him, says I, hinny, for ye little ken what may hae happened." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay, Caxon, thou art as good a comforter as a valet-de-chambre.—Give - me a white stock, man,—dye think I can go down with a handkerchief - about my neck when I have company?" - </p> - <p> - "Dear sir, the Captain says a three-nookit hankercher is the maist - fashionable overlay, and that stocks belang to your honour and me that are - auld warld folk. I beg pardon for mentioning us twa thegither, but it was - what he said." - </p> - <p> - "The Captain's a puppy, and you are a goose, Caxon." - </p> - <p> - "It's very like it may be sae," replied the acquiescent barber: "I am sure - your honour kens best." - </p> - <p> - Before breakfast, Lord Glenallan, who appeared in better spirits than he - had evinced in the former evening, went particularly through the various - circumstances of evidence which the exertions of Oldbuck had formerly - collected; and pointing out the means which he possessed of completing the - proof of his marriage, expressed his resolution instantly to go through - the painful task of collecting and restoring the evidence concerning the - birth of Eveline Neville, which Elspeth had stated to be in his mother's - possession. - </p> - <p> - "And yet, Mr. Oldbuck," he said, "I feel like a man who receives important - tidings ere he is yet fully awake, and doubt whether they refer to actual - life, or are not rather a continuation of his dream. This woman—this - Elspeth,—she is in the extremity of age, and approaching in many - respects to dotage. Have I not—it is a hideous question—have I - not been hasty in the admission of her present evidence, against that - which she formerly gave me to a very—very different purpose?" - </p> - <p> - Mr. Oldbuck paused a moment, and then answered with firmness—"No, my - lord; I cannot think you have any reason to suspect the truth of what she - has told you last, from no apparent impulse but the urgency of conscience. - Her confession was voluntary, disinterested, distinct, consistent with - itself, and with all the other known circumstances of the case. I would - lose no time, however, in examining and arranging the other documents to - which she has referred; and I also think her own statement should be taken - down, if possible in a formal manner. We thought of setting about this - together. But it will be a relief to your lordship, and moreover have a - more impartial appearance, were I to attempt the investigation alone in - the capacity of a magistrate. I will do this—at least I will attempt - it, so soon as I shall see her in a favourable state of mind to undergo an - examination." - </p> - <p> - Lord Glenallan wrung the Antiquary's hand in token of grateful - acquiescence. "I cannot express to you," he said, "Mr. Oldbuck, how much - your countenance and cooperation in this dark and most melancholy business - gives me relief and confidence. I cannot enough applaud myself for - yielding to the sudden impulse which impelled me, as it were, to drag you - into my confidence, and which arose from the experience I had formerly of - your firmness in discharge of your duty as a magistrate, and as a friend - to the memory of the unfortunate. Whatever the issue of these matters may - prove,—and I would fain hope there is a dawn breaking on the - fortunes of my house, though I shall not live to enjoy its light,—but - whatsoever be the issue, you have laid my family and me under the most - lasting obligation." - </p> - <p> - "My lord," answered the Antiquary, "I must necessarily have the greatest - respect for your lordship's family, which I am well aware is one of the - most ancient in Scotland, being certainly derived from Aymer de Geraldin, - who sat in parliament at Perth, in the reign of Alexander II., and who by - the less vouched, yet plausible tradition of the country, is said to have - been descended from the Marmor of Clochnaben. Yet, with all my veneration - for your ancient descent, I must acknowledge that I find myself still more - bound to give your lordship what assistance is in my limited power, from - sincere sympathy with your sorrows, and detestation at the frauds which - have so long been practised upon you.—But, my lord, the matin meal - is, I see, now prepared—Permit me to show your lordship the way - through the intricacies of my <i>cenobitium,</i> which is rather a - combination of cells, jostled oddly together, and piled one upon the top - of the other, than a regular house. I trust you will make yourself some - amends for the spare diet of yesterday." - </p> - <p> - But this was no part of Lord Glenallan's system. Having saluted the - company with the grave and melancholy politeness which distinguished his - manners, his servant placed before him a slice of toasted bread, with a - glass of fair water, being the fare on which he usually broke his fast. - While the morning's meal of the young soldier and the old Antiquary was - despatched in much more substantial manner, the noise of wheels was heard. - </p> - <p> - "Your lordship's carriage, I believe," said Oldbuck, stepping to the - window. "On my word, a handsome <i>quadriga,</i>—for such, according - to the best <i>scholium,</i> was the <i>vox signata</i> of the Romans for - a chariot which, like that of your lordship, was drawn by four horses." - </p> - <p> - "And I will venture to say," cried Hector, eagerly gazing from the window, - "that four handsomer or better-matched bays never were put in harness—What - fine forehands!—what capital chargers they would make!— Might - I ask if they are of your lordship's own breeding?" - </p> - <p> - "I—I—rather believe so," said Lord Glenallan; "but I have been - so negligent of my domestic matters, that I am ashamed to say I must apply - to Calvert" (looking at the domestic). - </p> - <p> - "They are of your lordship's own breeding," said Calvert, "got by Mad Tom - out of Jemina and Yarico, your lordship's brood mares." - </p> - <p> - "Are there more of the set?" said Lord Glenallan. - </p> - <p> - "Two, my lord,—one rising four, the other five off this grass, both - very handsome." - </p> - <p> - "Then let Dawkins bring them down to Monkbarns to-morrow," said the Earl—"I - hope Captain M'Intyre will accept them, if they are at all fit for - service." - </p> - <p> - Captain M'Intyre's eyes sparkled, and he was profuse in grateful - acknowledgments; while Oldbuck, on the other hand, seizing the Earl's - sleeve, endeavoured to intercept a present which boded no good to his - corn-chest and hay-loft. - </p> - <p> - "My lord—my lord—much obliged—much obliged—But - Hector is a pedestrian, and never mounts on horseback in battle—he - is a Highland soldier, moreover, and his dress ill adapted for cavalry - service. Even Macpherson never mounted his ancestors on horseback, though - he has the impudence to talk of their being car-borne—and that, my - lord, is what is running in Hector's head—it is the vehicular, not - the equestrian exercise, which he envies— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum - Collegisse juvat. -</pre> - <p> - His noddle is running on a curricle, which he has neither money to buy, - nor skill to drive if he had it; and I assure your lordship, that the - possession of two such quadrupeds would prove a greater scrape than any of - his duels, whether with human foe or with my friend the <i>phoca.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "You must command us all at present, Mr. Oldbuck," said the Earl politely; - "but I trust you will not ultimately prevent my gratifying my young friend - in some way that may afford him pleasure." - </p> - <p> - "Anything useful, my lord," said Oldbuck, "but no <i>curriculum</i>—I - protest he might as rationally propose to keep a <i>quadriga</i> at once—And - now I think of it, what is that old post-chaise from Fairport come - jingling here for?—I did not send for it." - </p> - <p> - "<i>I</i> did, sir," said Hector, rather sulkily, for he was not much - gratified by his uncle's interference to prevent the Earl's intended - generosity, nor particularly inclined to relish either the disparagement - which he cast upon his skill as a charioteer, or the mortifying allusion - to his bad success in the adventures of the duel and the seal. - </p> - <p> - "You did, sir?" echoed the Antiquary, in answer to his concise - information. "And pray, what may be your business with a post-chaise? Is - this splendid equipage—this <i>biga,</i> as I may call it—to - serve for an introduction to a <i>quadriga</i> or a <i>curriculum</i>?" - </p> - <p> - "Really, sir," replied the young soldier, "if it be necessary to give you - such a specific explanation, I am going to Fairport on a little business." - </p> - <p> - "Will you permit me to inquire into the nature of that business, Hector?" - answered his uncle, who loved the exercise of a little brief authority - over his relative. "I should suppose any regimental affairs might be - transacted by your worthy deputy the sergeant—an honest gentleman, - who is so good as to make Monkbarns his home since his arrival among us—I - should, I say, suppose that he may transact any business of yours, without - your spending a day's pay on two dog-horses, and such a combination of - rotten wood, cracked glass, and leather—such a skeleton of a - post-chaise, as that before the door." - </p> - <p> - "It is not regimental business, sir, that calls me; and, since you insist - upon knowing, I must inform you Caxon has brought word this morning that - old Ochiltree, the beggar, is to be brought up for examination to-day, - previous to his being committed for trial; and I'm going to see that the - poor old fellow gets fair play—that's all." - </p> - <p> - "Ay?—I heard something of this, but could not think it serious. And - pray, Captain Hector, who are so ready to be every man's second on all - occasions of strife, civil or military, by land, by water, or on the - sea-beach, what is your especial concern with old Edie Ochiltree?" - </p> - <p> - "He was a soldier in my father's company, sir," replied Hector; "and - besides, when I was about to do a very foolish thing one day, he - interfered to prevent me, and gave me almost as much good advice, sir, as - you could have done yourself." - </p> - <p> - "And with the same good effect, I dare be sworn for it—eh, Hector?— - Come, confess it was thrown away." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed it was, sir; but I see no reason that my folly should make me less - grateful for his intended kindness." - </p> - <p> - "Bravo, Hector! that's the most sensible thing I ever heard you say. But - always tell me your plans without reserve,—why, I will go with you - myself, man. I am sure the old fellow is not guilty, and I will assist him - in such a scrape much more effectually than you can do. Besides, it will - save thee half-a-guinea, my lad—a consideration which I heartily - pray you to have more frequently before your eyes." - </p> - <p> - Lord Glenallan's politeness had induced him to turn away and talk with the - ladies, when the dispute between the uncle and nephew appeared to grow - rather too animated to be fit for the ear of a stranger, but the Earl - mingled again in the conversation when the placable tone of the Antiquary - expressed amity. Having received a brief account of the mendicant, and of - the accusation brought against him, which Oldbuck did not hesitate to - ascribe to the malice of Dousterswivel, Lord Glenallan asked, whether the - individual in question had not been a soldier formerly?—He was - answered in the affirmative. - </p> - <p> - "Had he not," continued his Lordship, "a coarse blue coat, or gown, with a - badge?—was he not a tall, striking-looking old man, with grey beard - and hair, who kept his body remarkably erect, and talked with an air of - ease and independence, which formed a strong contrast to his profession?" - </p> - <p> - "All this is an exact picture of the man," refumed Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Why, then," continued Lord Glenallan, "although I fear I can be of no use - to him in his present condition, yet I owe him a debt of gratitude for - being the first person who brought me some tidings of the utmost - importance. I would willingly offer him a place of comfortable retirement, - when he is extricated from his present situation." - </p> - <p> - "I fear, my lord," said Oldbuck, "he would have difficulty in reconciling - his vagrant habits to the acceptance of your bounty, at least I know the - experiment has been tried without effect. To beg from the public at large - he considers as independence, in comparison to drawing his whole support - from the bounty of an individual. He is so far a true philosopher, as to - be a contemner of all ordinary rules of hours and times. When he is hungry - he eats; when thirsty he drinks; when weary he sleeps; and with such - indifference with respect to the means and appliances about which we make - a fuss, that I suppose he was never ill dined or ill lodged in his life. - Then he is, to a certain extent, the oracle of the district through which - he travels—their genealogist, their newsman, their master of the - revels, their doctor at a pinch, or their divine;—I promise you he - has too many duties, and is too zealous in performing them, to be easily - bribed to abandon his calling. But I should be truly sorry if they sent - the poor light-hearted old man to lie for weeks in a jail. I am convinced - the confinement would break his heart." - </p> - <p> - Thus finished the conference. Lord Glenallan, having taken leave of the - ladies, renewed his offer to Captain M'Intyre of the freedom of his manors - for sporting, which was joyously accepted. - </p> - <p> - "I can only add," he said, "that if your spirits are not liable to be - damped by dull company, Glenallan House is at all times open to you. On - two days of the week, Friday and Saturday, I keep my apartment, which will - be rather a relief to you, as you will be left to enjoy the society of my - almoner, Mr. Gladsmoor, who is a scholar and a man of the world." - </p> - <p> - Hector, his heart exulting at the thoughts of ranging through the - preserves of Glenallan House, and over the well-protected moors of - Clochnaben—nay, joy of joys! the deer-forest of Strath-Bonnel—made - many acknowledgements of the honour and gratitude he felt. Mr. Oldbuck was - sensible of the Earl's attention to his nephew; Miss M'Intyre was pleased - because her brother was gratified; and Miss Griselda Oldbuck looked - forward with glee to the potting of whole bags of moorfowl and black-game, - of which Mr. Blattergowl was a professed admirer. Thus,— which is - always the case when a man of rank leaves a private family where he has - studied to appear obliging,—all were ready to open in praise of the - Earl as soon as he had taken his leave, and was wheeled off in his chariot - by the four admired bays. But the panegyric was cut short, for Oldbuck and - his nephew deposited themselves in the Fairport hack, which, with one - horse trotting, and the other urged to a canter, creaked, jingled, and - hobbled towards that celebrated seaport, in a manner that formed a strong - contrast to the rapidity and smoothness with which Lord Glenallan's - equipage had seemed to vanish from their eyes. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0016" id="Alink2HCH0016"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Yes! I love justice well—as well as you do— - But since the good dame's blind, she shall excuse me - If, time and reason fitting, I prove dumb;— - The breath I utter now shall be no means - To take away from me my breath in future. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - By dint of charity from the town's-people in aid of the load of provisions - he had brought with him into durance, Edie Ochiltree had passed a day or - two's confinement without much impatience, regretting his want of freedom - the less, as the weather proved broken and rainy. - </p> - <p> - "The prison," he said, "wasna sae dooms bad a place as it was ca'd. Ye had - aye a good roof ower your head to fend aff the weather, and, if the - windows werena glazed, it was the mair airy and pleasant for the summer - season. And there were folk enow to crack wi', and he had bread eneugh to - eat, and what need he fash himsell about the rest o't?" - </p> - <p> - The courage of our philosophical mendicant began, however, to abate, when - the sunbeams shone fair on the rusty bars of his grated dungeon, and a - miserable linnet, whose cage some poor debtor had obtained permission to - attach to the window, began to greet them with his whistle. - </p> - <p> - "Ye're in better spirits than I am," said Edie, addressing the bird, "for - I can neither whistle nor sing for thinking o' the bonny burnsides and - green shaws that I should hae been dandering beside in weather like this. - But hae—there's some crumbs t'ye, an ye are sae merry; and troth ye - hae some reason to sing an ye kent it, for your cage comes by nae faut o' - your ain, and I may thank mysell that I am closed up in this weary place." - </p> - <p> - Ochiltree's soliloquy was disturbed by a peace-officer, who came to summon - him to attend the magistrate. So he set forth in awful procession between - two poor creatures, neither of them so stout as he was himself, to be - conducted into the presence of inquisitorial justice. The people, as the - aged prisoner was led along by his decrepit guards, exclaimed to each - other, "Eh! see sic a grey-haired man as that is, to have committed a - highway robbery, wi' ae fit in the grave!"—And the children - congratulated the officers, objects of their alternate dread and sport, - Puggie Orrock and Jock Ormston, on having a prisoner as old as themselves. - </p> - <p> - Thus marshalled forward, Edie was presented (by no means for the first - time) before the worshipful Bailie Littlejohn, who, contrary to what his - name expressed, was a tall portly magistrate, on whom corporation crusts - had not been conferred in vain. He was a zealous loyalist of that zealous - time, somewhat rigorous and peremptory in the execution of his duty, and a - good deal inflated with the sense of his own power and importance;—otherwise - an honest, well-meaning, and useful citizen. - </p> - <p> - "Bring him in! bring him in!" he exclaimed. "Upon my word these are awful - and unnatural times! the very bedesmen and retainers of his Majesty are - the first to break his laws. Here has been an old Blue-Gown committing - robbery—I suppose the next will reward the royal charity which - supplies him with his garb, pension, and begging license, by engaging in - high-treason, or sedition at least—But bring him in." - </p> - <p> - Edie made his obeisance, and then stood, as usual, firm and erect, with - the side of his face turned a little upward, as if to catch every word - which the magistrate might address to him. To the first general questions, - which respected only his name and calling, the mendicant answered with - readiness and accuracy; but when the magistrate, having caused his clerk - to take down these particulars, began to inquire whereabout the mendicant - was on the night when Dousterswivel met with his misfortune, Edie demurred - to the motion. "Can ye tell me now, Bailie, you that understands the law, - what gude will it do me to answer ony o' your questions?" - </p> - <p> - "Good?—no good certainly, my friend, except that giving a true - account of yourself, if you are innocent, may entitle me to set you at - liberty." - </p> - <p> - "But it seems mair reasonable to me now, that you, Bailie, or anybody that - has anything to say against me, should prove my guilt, and no to be - bidding me prove my innocence." - </p> - <p> - "I don't sit here," answered the magistrate, "to dispute points of law - with you. I ask you, if you choose to answer my question, whether you were - at Ringan Aikwood, the forester's, upon the day I have specified?" - </p> - <p> - "Really, sir, I dinna feel myself called on to remember," replied the - cautious bedesman. - </p> - <p> - "Or whether, in the course of that day or night," continued the - magistrate, "you saw Steven, or Steenie, Mucklebackit?—you knew him, - I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "O, brawlie did I ken Steenie, puir fallow," replied the prisoner;—"but - I canna condeshend on ony particular time I have seen him lately." - </p> - <p> - "Were you at the ruins of St. Ruth any time in the course of that - evening?" - </p> - <p> - "Bailie Littlejohn," said the mendicant, "if it be your honour's pleasure, - we'll cut a lang tale short, and I'll just tell ye, I am no minded to - answer ony o' thae questions—I'm ower auld a traveller to let my - tongue bring me into trouble." - </p> - <p> - "Write down," said the magistrate, "that he declines to answer all - interrogatories, in respect that by telling the truth he might be brought - to trouble." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na," said Ochiltree, "I'll no hae that set down as ony part o' my - answer—but I just meant to say, that in a' my memory and practice, I - never saw ony gude come o' answering idle questions." - </p> - <p> - "Write down," said the Bailie, "that, being acquainted with judicial - interrogatories by long practice, and having sustained injury by answering - questions put to him on such occasions, the declarant refuses." - </p> - <p> - "Na, na, Bailie," reiterated Edie, "ye are no to come in on me that gait - neither." - </p> - <p> - "Dictate the answer yourself then, friend," said the magistrate, "and the - clerk will take it down from your own mouth." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay," said Edie—"that's what I ca' fair play; I'se do that - without loss o' time. Sae, neighbour, ye may just write down, that Edie - Ochiltree, the declarant, stands up for the liberty—na, I maunna say - that neither—I am nae liberty-boy—I hae fought again' them in - the riots in Dublin—besides, I have ate the King's bread mony a day. - Stay, let me see. Ay—write that Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-Gown, - stands up for the prerogative—(see that ye spell that word right—it's - a lang ane)—for the prerogative of the subjects of the land, and - winna answer a single word that sall be asked at him this day, unless he - sees a reason fort. Put down that, young man." - </p> - <p> - "Then, Edie," said the magistrate, "since you will give no information on - the subject, I must send you back to prison till you shall be delivered in - due course of law." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, sir, if it's Heaven's will and man's will, nae doubt I maun - submit," replied the mendicant. "I hae nae great objection to the prison, - only that a body canna win out o't; and if it wad please you as weel, - Bailie, I wad gie you my word to appear afore the Lords at the Circuit, or - in ony other coart ye like, on ony day ye are pleased to appoint." - </p> - <p> - "I rather think, my good friend," answered Bailie Littlejohn, "your word - might be a slender security where your neck may be in some danger. I am - apt to think you would suffer the pledge to be forfeited. If you could - give me sufficient security, indeed"— - </p> - <p> - At this moment the Antiquary and Captain M'Intyre entered the apartment.—"Good - morning to you, gentlemen," said the magistrate; "you find me toiling in - my usual vocation—looking after the iniquities of the people—labouring - for the <i>respublica,</i> Mr. Oldbuck—serving the King our master, - Captain M'Intyre,—for I suppose you know I have taken up the sword?" - </p> - <p> - "It is one of the emblems of justice, doubtless," answered the Antiquary;—"but - I should have thought the scales would have suited you better, Bailie, - especially as you have them ready in the warehouse." - </p> - <p> - "Very good, Monkbarns—excellent! But I do not take the sword up as - justice, but as a soldier—indeed I should rather say the musket and - bayonet—there they stand at the elbow of my gouty chair, for I am - scarce fit for drill yet—a slight touch of our old acquaintance <i>podagra;</i> - I can keep my feet, however, while our sergeant puts me through the - manual. I should like to know, Captain M'Intyre, if he follows the - regulations correctly—he brings us but awkwardly to the <i>present.</i>" - And he hobbled towards his weapon to illustrate his doubts and display his - proficiency. - </p> - <p> - "I rejoice we have such zealous defenders, Bailie," replied Mr. Oldbuck; - "and I dare say Hector will gratify you by communicating his opinion on - your progress in this new calling. Why, you rival the Hecate' of the - ancients, my good sir—a merchant on the Mart, a magistrate in the - Townhouse, a soldier on the Links—<i>quid non pro patria?</i> But my - business is with the justice; so let commerce and war go slumber." - </p> - <p> - "Well, my good sir," said the Bailie, "and what commands have you for me?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, here's an old acquaintance of mine, called Edie Ochiltree, whom some - of your myrmidons have mewed up in jail on account of an alleged assault - on that fellow Dousterswivel, of whose accusation I do not believe one - word." - </p> - <p> - The magistrate here assumed a very grave countenance. "You ought to have - been informed that he is accused of robbery, as well as assault—a - very serious matter indeed; it is not often such criminals come under my - cognizance." - </p> - <p> - "And," replied Oldbuck, "you are tenacious of the opportunity of making - the very most of such as occur. But is this poor old man's case really so - very bad?" - </p> - <p> - "It is rather out of rule," said the Bailie—"but as you are in the - commission, Monkbarns, I have no hesitation to show you Dousterswivel's - declaration, and the rest of the precognition." And he put the papers into - the Antiquary's hands, who assumed his spectacles, and sat down in a - corner to peruse them. - </p> - <p> - The officers, in the meantime, had directions to remove their prisoner - into another apartment; but before they could do so, M'Intyre took an - opportunity to greet old Edie, and to slip a guinea into his hand. - </p> - <p> - "Lord bless your honour!" said the old man; "it's a young soldier's gift, - and it should surely thrive wi' an auld ane. I'se no refuse it, though - it's beyond my rules; for if they steek me up here, my friends are like - eneugh to forget me—out o'sight out o'mind, is a true proverb; and - it wadna be creditable for me, that am the king's bedesman, and entitled - to beg by word of mouth, to be fishing for bawbees out at the jail window - wi' the fit o' a stocking, and a string." As he made this observation he - was conducted out of the apartment. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dousterswivel's declaration contained an exaggerated account of the - violence he had sustained, and also of his loss. - </p> - <p> - "But what I should have liked to have asked him," said Monkbarns, "would - have been his purpose in frequenting the ruins of St. Ruth, so lonely a - place, at such an hour, and with such a companion as Edie Ochiltree. There - is no road lies that way, and I do not conceive a mere passion for the - picturesque would carry the German thither in such a night of storm and - wind. Depend upon it, he has been about some roguery, and in all - probability hath been caught in a trap of his own setting—<i>Nec lex - justitior ulla.</i>" - </p> - <p> - The magistrate allowed there was something mysterious in that - circumstance, and apologized for not pressing Dousterswivel, as his - declaration was voluntarily emitted. But for the support of the main - charge, he showed the declaration of the Aikwoods concerning the state in - which Dousterswivel was found, and establishing the important fact that - the mendicant had left the barn in which he was quartered, and did not - return to it again. Two people belonging to the Fairport undertaker, who - had that night been employed in attending the funeral of Lady Glenallan, - had also given declarations, that, being sent to pursue two suspicious - persons who left the ruins of St. Ruth as the funeral approached, and who, - it was supposed, might have been pillaging some of the ornaments prepared - for the ceremony, they had lost and regained sight of them more than once, - owing to the nature of the ground, which was unfavourable for riding, but - had at length fairly lodged them both in Mucklebackit's cottage. And one - of the men added, that "he, the declarant, having dismounted from his - horse, and gone close up to the window of the hut, he saw the old - Blue-Gown and young Steenie Mucklebackit, with others, eating and drinking - in the inside, and also observed the said Steenie Mucklebackit show a - pocket-book to the others;—and declarant has no doubt that Ochiltree - and Steenie Mucklebackit were the persons whom he and his comrade had - pursued, as above mentioned." And being interrogated why he did not enter - the said cottage, declares, "he had no warrant so to do; and that as - Mucklebackit and his family were understood to be rough-handed folk, he, - the declarant, had no desire to meddle or make with their affairs, <i>Causa - scientiae patet.</i> All which he declares to be truth," etc. - </p> - <p> - "What do you say to that body of evidence against your friend?" said the - magistrate, when he had observed the Antiquary had turned the last leaf. - </p> - <p> - "Why, were it in the case of any other person, I own I should say it - looked, <i>prima facie,</i> a little ugly; but I cannot allow anybody to - be in the wrong for beating Dousterswivel—Had I been an hour - younger, or had but one single flash of your warlike genius, Bailie, I - should have done it myself long ago. He is <i>nebulo nebulonum,</i> an - impudent, fraudulent, mendacious quack, that has cost me a hundred pounds - by his roguery, and my neighbour Sir Arthur, God knows how much. And - besides, Bailie, I do not hold him to be a sound friend to Government." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed?" said Bailie Littlejohn; "if I thought that, it would alter the - question considerably." - </p> - <p> - "Right—for, in beating him," observed Oldbuck, "the bedesman must - have shown his gratitude to the king by thumping his enemy; and in robbing - him, he would only have plundered an Egyptian, whose wealth it is lawful - to spoil. Now, suppose this interview in the ruins of St. Ruth had - relation to politics,—and this story of hidden treasure, and so - forth, was a bribe from the other side of the water for some great man, or - the funds destined to maintain a seditious club?" - </p> - <p> - "My dear sir," said the magistrate, catching at the idea, "you hit my very - thoughts! How fortunate should I be if I could become the humble means of - sifting such a matter to the bottom!—Don't you think we had better - call out the volunteers, and put them on duty?" - </p> - <p> - "Not just yet, while <i>podagra</i> deprives them of an essential member - of their body. But will you let me examine Ochiltree?" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly; but you'll make nothing of him. He gave me distinctly to - understand he knew the danger of a judicial declaration on the part of an - accused person, which, to say the truth, has hanged many an honester man - than he is." - </p> - <p> - "Well, but, Bailie," continued Oldbuck, "you have no objection to let me - try him?" - </p> - <p> - "None in the world, Monkbarns. I hear the sergeant below—I'll - rehearse the manual in the meanwhile. Baby, carry my gun and bayonet down - to the room below—it makes less noise there when we ground arms." - And so exit the martial magistrate, with his maid behind him bearing his - weapons. - </p> - <p> - "A good squire that wench for a gouty champion," observed Oldbuck.— - "Hector, my lad, hook on, hook on—Go with him, boy—keep him - employed, man, for half-an-hour or so—butter him with some warlike - terms—praise his dress and address." - </p> - <p> - Captain M'Intyre, who, like many of his profession, looked down with - infinite scorn on those citizen soldiers who had assumed arms without any - professional title to bear them, rose with great reluctance, observing - that he should not know what to say to Mr. Littlejohn; and that to see an - old gouty shop-keeper attempting the exercise and duties of a private - soldier, was really too ridiculous. - </p> - <p> - "It may be so, Hector," said the Antiquary, who seldom agreed with any - person in the immediate proposition which was laid down—"it may - possibly be so in this and some other instances; but at present the - country resembles the suitors in a small-debt court, where parties plead - in person, for lack of cash to retain the professed heroes of the bar. I - am sure in the one case we never regret the want of the acuteness and - eloquence of the lawyers; and so, I hope, in the other, we may manage to - make shift with our hearts and muskets, though we shall lack some of the - discipline of you martinets." - </p> - <p> - "I have no objection, I am sure, sir, that the whole world should fight if - they please, if they will but allow me to be quiet," said Hector, rising - with dogged reluctance. - </p> - <p> - "Yes, you are a very quiet personage indeed," said his uncle, "whose - ardour for quarrelling cannot pass so much as a poor <i>phoca</i> sleeping - upon the beach!" - </p> - <p> - But Hector, who saw which way the conversation was tending, and hated all - allusions to the foil he had sustained from the fish, made his escape - before the Antiquary concluded the sentence. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0017" id="Alink2HCH0017"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Well, well, at worst, 'tis neither theft nor coinage, - Granting I knew all that you charge me with. - What though the tomb hath borne a second birth, - And given the wealth to one that knew not on't, - Yet fair exchange was never robbery, - Far less pure bounty— - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - The Antiquary, in order to avail himself of the permission given him to - question the accused party, chose rather to go to the apartment in which - Ochiltree was detained, than to make the examination appear formal by - bringing him again into the magistrate's office. He found the old man - seated by a window which looked out on the sea; and as he gazed on that - prospect, large tears found their way, as if unconsciously, to his eye, - and from thence trickled down his cheeks and white beard. His features - were, nevertheless, calm and composed, and his whole posture and mien - indicated patience and resignation. Oldbuck had approached him without - being observed, and roused him out of his musing by saying kindly, "I am - sorry, Edie, to see you so much cast down about this matter." - </p> - <p> - <a name="Aimage-0007" id="Aimage-0007"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pb206.jpg" alt="The Antiquary Visits Edie in Prison " - width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - The mendicant started, dried his eyes very hastily with the sleeve of his - gown, and endeavouring to recover his usual tone of indifference and - jocularity, answered, but with a voice more tremulous than usual, "I might - weel hae judged, Monkbarns, it was you, or the like o' you, was coming in - to disturb me—for it's ae great advantage o' prisons and courts o' - justice, that ye may greet your een out an ye like, and nane o' the folk - that's concerned about them will ever ask you what it's for." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Edie," replied Oldbuck, "I hope your present cause of distress is - not so bad but it may be removed." - </p> - <p> - "And I had hoped, Monkbarns," answered the mendicant, in a tone of - reproach, "that ye had ken'd me better than to think that this bit - trifling trouble o' my ain wad bring tears into my auld een, that hae seen - far different kind o' distress.—Na, na!—But here's been the - puir lass, Caxon's daughter, seeking comfort, and has gotten unco little— - there's been nae speerings o' Taffril's gunbrig since the last gale; and - folk report on the key that a king's ship had struck on the Reef of - Rattray, and a' hands lost—God forbid! for as sure as you live, - Monkbarns, the puir lad Lovel, that ye liked sae weel, must have - perished." - </p> - <p> - "God forbid indeed!" echoed the Antiquary, turning pale—"I would - rather Monkbarns House were on fire. My poor dear friend and coadjutor! I - will down to the quay instantly." - </p> - <p> - "I'm sure yell learn naething mair than I hae tauld ye, sir," said - Ochiltree, "for the officer-folk here were very civil (that is, for the - like o' them), and lookit up ae their letters and authorities, and could - throw nae light on't either ae way or another." - </p> - <p> - "It can't be true! it shall not be true!" said the Antiquary, "And I won't - believe it if it were!—Taffril's an excellent sea man, and Lovel (my - poor Lovel!) has all the qualities of a safe and pleasant companion by - land or by sea—one, Edie, whom, from the ingenuousness of his - disposition, I would choose, did I ever go a sea-voyage (which I never do, - unless across the ferry), <i>fragilem mecum solvere phaselum,</i> to be - the companion of my risk, as one against whom the elements could nourish - no vengeance. No, Edie, it is not, and cannot be true—it is a - fiction of the idle jade Rumour, whom I wish hanged with her trumpet about - her neck, that serves only with its screech-owl tones to fright honest - folks out of their senses.—Let me know how you got into this scrape - of your own." - </p> - <p> - "Are ye axing me as a magistrate, Monkbarns, or is it just for your ain - satisfaction!" - </p> - <p> - "For my own satisfaction solely," replied the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "Put up your pocket-book and your keelyvine pen then, for I downa speak - out an ye hae writing materials in your hands—they're a scaur to - unlearned folk like me—Od, ane o' the clerks in the neist room will - clink down, in black and white, as muckle as wad hang a man, before ane - kens what he's saying." - </p> - <p> - Monkbarns complied with the old man's humour, and put up his - memorandum-book. - </p> - <p> - Edie then went with great frankness through the part of the story already - known to the reader, informing the Antiquary of the scene which he had - witnessed between Dousterswivel and his patron in the ruins of St. Ruth, - and frankly confessing that he could not resist the opportunity of - decoying the adept once more to visit the tomb of Misticot, with the - purpose of taking a comic revenge upon him for his quackery. He had easily - persuaded Steenie, who was a bold thoughtless young fellow, to engage in - the frolic along with him, and the jest had been inadvertently carried a - great deal farther than was designed. Concerning the pocket-book, he - explained that he had expressed his surprise and sorrow as soon as he - found it had been inadvertently brought off: and that publicly, before all - the inmates of the cottage, Steenie had undertaken to return it the next - day, and had only been prevented by his untimely fate. - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary pondered a moment, and then said, "Your account seems very - probable, Edie, and I believe it from what I know of the parties. But I - think it likely that you know a great deal more than you have thought it - proper to tell me, about this matter of the treasure trove—I suspect - you have acted the part of the Lar Familiaris in Plautus—a sort of - Brownie, Edie, to speak to your comprehension, who watched over hidden - treasures.—I do bethink me you were the first person we met when Sir - Arthur made his successful attack upon Misticot's grave, and also that - when the labourers began to flag, you, Edie, were again the first to leap - into the trench, and to make the discovery of the treasure. Now you must - explain all this to me, unless you would have me use you as ill as Euclio - does Staphyla in the <i>Aulularia.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Lordsake, sir," replied the mendicant, "what do I ken about your - Howlowlaria?—it's mair like a dog's language than a man's." - </p> - <p> - "You knew, however, of the box of treasure being there?" continued - Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Dear sir," answered Edie, assuming a countenance of great simplicity, - "what likelihood is there o'that? d'ye think sae puir an auld creature as - me wad hae kend o' sic a like thing without getting some gude out o't?—and - ye wot weel I sought nane and gat nane, like Michael Scott's man. What - concern could I hae wi't?" - </p> - <p> - "That's just what I want you to explain to me," said Oldbuck; "for I am - positive you knew it was there." - </p> - <p> - "Your honour's a positive man, Monkbarns—and, for a positive man, I - must needs allow ye're often in the right." - </p> - <p> - "You allow, then, Edie, that my belief is well founded?" - </p> - <p> - Edie nodded acquiescence. - </p> - <p> - "Then please to explain to me the whole affair from beginning to end," - said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "If it were a secret o' mine, Monkbarns," replied the beggar, "ye suldna - ask twice; for I hae aye said ahint your back, that for a' the nonsense - maggots that ye whiles take into your head, ye are the maist wise and - discreet o' a' our country gentles. But I'se een be open-hearted wi' you, - and tell you that this is a friend's secret, and that they suld draw me - wi' wild horses, or saw me asunder, as they did the children of Ammon, - sooner than I would speak a word mair about the matter, excepting this, - that there was nae ill intended, but muckle gude, and that the purpose was - to serve them that are worth twenty hundred o' me. But there's nae law, I - trow, that makes it a sin to ken where ither folles siller is, if we didna - pit hand til't oursell?" - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck walked once or twice up and down the room in profound thought, - endeavouring to find some plausible reason for transactions of a nature so - mysterious—but his ingenuity was totally at fault. He then placed - himself before the prisoner. - </p> - <p> - "This story of yours, friend Edie, is an absolute enigma, and would - require a second OEdipus to solve it—who OEdipus was, I will tell - you some other time if you remind me—However, whether it be owing to - the wisdom or to the maggots with which you compliment me, I am strongly - disposed to believe that you have spoken the truth, the rather that you - have not made any of those obtestations of the superior powers, which I - observe you and your comrades always make use of when you mean to deceive - folks." (Here Edie could not suppress a smile.) "If, therefore, you will - answer me one question, I will endeavour to procure your liberation." - </p> - <p> - "If ye'll let me hear the question," said Edie, with the caution of a - canny Scotchman, "I'll tell you whether I'll answer it or no." - </p> - <p> - "It is simply," said the Antiquary, "Did Dousterswivel know anything about - the concealment of the chest of bullion?" - </p> - <p> - "He, the ill-fa'ard loon!" answered Edie, with much frankness of manner— - "there wad hae been little speerings o't had Dustansnivel ken'd it was - there—it wad hae been butter in the black dog's hause." - </p> - <p> - "I thought as much," said Oldbuck. "Well, Edie, if I procure your freedom, - you must keep your day, and appear to clear me of the bail-bond, for these - are not times for prudent men to incur forfeitures, unless you can point - out another <i>Aulam auri plenam quadrilibrem</i>—another <i>Search, - No. I.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "Ah!" said the beggar, shaking his head, "I doubt the bird's flown that - laid thae golden eggs—for I winna ca' her goose, though that's the - gait it stands in the story-buick—But I'll keep my day, Monkbarns; - ye'se no loss a penny by me—And troth I wad fain be out again, now - the weather's fine—and then I hae the best chance o' hearing the - first news o' my friends." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Edie, as the bouncing and thumping beneath has somewhat ceased, I - presume Bailie Littlejohn has dismissed his military preceptor, and has - retired from the labours of Mars to those of Themis—I will have some - conversation with him—But I cannot and will not believe any of those - wretched news you were telling me." - </p> - <p> - "God send your honour may be right!" said the mendicant, as Oldbuck left - the room. - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary found the magistrate, exhausted with the fatigues of the - drill, reposing in his gouty chair, humming the air, "How merrily we live - that soldiers be!" and between each bar comforting himself with a spoonful - of mock-turtle soup. He ordered a similar refreshment for Oldbuck, who - declined it, observing, that, not being a military man, he did not feel - inclined to break his habit of keeping regular hours for meals—"Soldiers - like you, Bailie, must snatch their food as they find means and time. But - I am sorry to hear ill news of young Taffril's brig." - </p> - <p> - "Ah, poor fellow!" said the bailie, "he was a credit to the town—much - distinguished on the first of June." - </p> - <p> - "But," said Oldbuck, "I am shocked to hear you talk of him in the - preterite tense." - </p> - <p> - "Troth, I fear there may be too much reason for it, Monkbarns;—and - yet let us hope the best. The accident is said to have happened in the - Rattray reef of rocks, about twenty miles to the northward, near - Dirtenalan Bay—I have sent to inquire about it—and your nephew - run out himself as if he had been flying to get the Gazette of a victory." - </p> - <p> - Here Hector entered, exclaiming as he came in, "I believe it's all a - damned lie—I can't find the least authority for it, but general - rumour." - </p> - <p> - "And pray, Mr. Hector," said his uncle, "if it had been true, whose fault - would it have been that Lovel was on board?" - </p> - <p> - "Not mine, I am sure," answered Hector; "it would have been only my - misfortune." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed!" said his uncle, "I should not have thought of that." - </p> - <p> - "Why, sir, with all your inclination to find me in the wrong," replied the - young soldier, "I suppose you will own my intention was not to blame in - this case. I did my best to hit Lovel, and if I had been successful, 'tis - clear my scrape would have been his, and his scrape would have been mine." - </p> - <p> - "And whom or what do you intend to hit now, that you are lugging with you - that leathern magazine there, marked Gunpowder?" - </p> - <p> - "I must be prepared for Lord Glenallan's moors on the twelfth, sir," said - M'Intyre. - </p> - <p> - "Ah, Hector! thy great <i>chasse,</i> as the French call it, would take - place best— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Omne cum Proteus pecus agitaret altos - Visere montes— -</pre> - <p> - Could you meet but with a martial <i>phoca,</i> instead of an unwarlike - heath-bird." - </p> - <p> - "The devil take the seal, sir, or <i>phoca,</i> if you choose to call it - so! It's rather hard one can never hear the end of a little piece of folly - like that." - </p> - <p> - "Well, well," said Oldbuck, "I am glad you have the grace to be ashamed of - it—as I detest the whole race of Nimrods, I wish them all as well - matched. Nay, never start off at a jest, man—I have done with the <i>phoca</i>—though, - I dare say, the Bailie could tell us the value of seal-skins just now." - </p> - <p> - "They are up," said the magistrate, "they are well up—the fishing - has been unsuccessful lately." - </p> - <p> - "We can bear witness to that," said the tormenting Antiquary, who was - delighted with the hank this incident had given him over the young - sportsman: One word more, Hector, and - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - We'll hang a seal-skin on thy recreant limbs. -</pre> - <p> - Aha, my boy! Come, never mind it; I must go to business.—Bailie, a - word with you: you must take bail—moderate bail, you understand—for - old Ochiltree's appearance." - </p> - <p> - "You don't consider what you ask," said the Bailie; "the offence is - assault and robbery." - </p> - <p> - "Hush! not a word about it," said the Antiquary. "I gave you a hint before—I - will possess you more fully hereafter—I promise you, there is a - secret." - </p> - <p> - "But, Mr. Oldbuck, if the state is concerned, I, who do the whole drudgery - business here, really have a title to be consulted, and until I am"— - </p> - <p> - "Hush! hush!" said the Antiquary, winking and putting his finger to his - nose,—"you shall have the full credit, the entire management, - whenever matters are ripe. But this is an obstinate old fellow, who will - not hear of two people being as yet let into his mystery, and he has not - fully acquainted me with the clew to Dousterswivel's devices." - </p> - <p> - "Aha! so we must tip that fellow the alien act, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "To say truth, I wish you would." - </p> - <p> - "Say no more," said the magistrate; "it shall forthwith be done—he - shall be removed <i>tanquam suspect</i>—I think that's one of your - own phrases, Monkbarns?" - </p> - <p> - "It is classical, Bailie—you improve." - </p> - <p> - "Why, public business has of late pressed upon me so much, that I have - been obliged to take my foreman into partnership. I have had two several - correspondences with the Under Secretary of State—one on the - proposed tax on Riga hemp-seed, and the other on putting down political - societies. So you might as well communicate to me as much as you know of - this old fellow's discovery of a plot against the state." - </p> - <p> - "I will, instantly, when I am master of it," replied Oldbuck—-"I - hate the trouble of managing such matters myself. Remember, however, I did - not say decidedly a plot against the state I only say I hope to discover, - by this man's means, a foul plot." - </p> - <p> - "If it be a plot at all, there must be treason in it, or sedition at - least," said the Bailie—"Will you bail him for four hundred merks?" - </p> - <p> - "Four hundred merks for an old Blue-Gown! Think on the act 1701 regulating - bail-bonds!—Strike off a cipher from the sum—I am content to - bail him for forty merks." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Mr. Oldbuck, everybody in Fairport is always willing to oblige you—and - besides, I know that you are a prudent man, and one that would be as - unwilling to lose forty, as four hundred merks. So I will accept your - bail, <i>meo periculo</i>—what say you to that law phrase again? I - had it from a learned counsel. I will vouch it, my lord, he said, <i>meo - periculo.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "And I will vouch for Edie Ochiltree, <i>meo periculo,</i> in like - manner," said Oldbuck. "So let your clerk draw out the bail-bond, and I - will sign it." - </p> - <p> - When this ceremony had been performed, the Antiquary communicated to Edie - the joyful tidings that he was once more at liberty, and directed him to - make the best of his way to Monkbarns House, to which he himself returned - with his nephew, after having perfected their good work. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0018" id="Alink2HCH0018"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Full of wise saws and modern instances. - As You Like It. -</pre> - <p> - "I wish to Heaven, Hector," said the Antiquary, next morning after - breakfast, "you would spare our nerves, and not be keeping snapping that - arquebuss of yours." - </p> - <p> - "Well, sir, I'm sure I'm sorry to disturb you," said his nephew, still - handling his fowling-piece;—"but it's a capital gun—it's a Joe - Manton, that cost forty guineas." - </p> - <p> - "A fool and his money are soon parted, nephew—there is a Joe Miller - for your Joe Manton," answered the Antiquary; "I am glad you have so many - guineas to throw away." - </p> - <p> - "Every one has their fancy, uncle,—you are fond of books." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, Hector," said the uncle, "and if my collection were yours, you would - make it fly to the gunsmith, the horse-market, the dog-breaker,— <i>Coemptos - undique nobiles libros—mutare loricis Iberis.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "I could not use your books, my dear uncle," said the young soldier, - "that's true; and you will do well to provide for their being in better - hands. But don't let the faults of my head fall on my heart—I would - not part with a Cordery that belonged to an old friend, to get a set of - horses like Lord Glenallan's." - </p> - <p> - "I don't think you would, lad—I don't think you would," said his - softening relative. "I love to tease you a little sometimes; it keeps up - the spirit of discipline and habit of subordination—You will pass - your time happily here having me to command you, instead of Captain, or - Colonel, or Knight in Arms,' as Milton has it; and instead of the French," - he continued, relapsing into his ironical humour, "you have the <i>Gens - humida ponti</i>—for, as Virgil says, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sternunt se somno diversae in littore phocae; -</pre> - <p> - which might be rendered, - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here phocae slumber on the beach, - Within our Highland Hector's reach. -</pre> - <p> - Nay, if you grow angry, I have done. Besides, I see old Edie in the - court-yard, with whom I have business. Good-bye, Hector—Do you - remember how she splashed into the sea like her master Proteus, <i>et se - jactu dedit aequor in altum</i>?" - </p> - <p> - M'Intyre,—waiting, however, till the door was shut,—then gave - way to the natural impatience of his temper. - </p> - <p> - "My uncle is the best man in the world, and in his way the kindest; but - rather than hear any more about that cursed <i>phoca,</i> as he is pleased - to call it, I would exchange for the West Indies, and never see his face - again." - </p> - <p> - Miss M'Intyre, gratefully attached to her uncle, and passionately fond of - her brother, was, on such occasions, the usual envoy of reconciliation. - She hastened to meet her uncle on his return, before he entered the - parlour. - </p> - <p> - "Well, now, Miss Womankind, what is the meaning of that imploring - countenance?—has Juno done any more mischief?" - </p> - <p> - "No, uncle; but Juno's master is in such fear of your joking him about the - seal—I assure you, he feels it much more than you would wish;—it's - very silly of him, to be sure; but then you can turn everybody so sharply - into ridicule"— - </p> - <p> - "Well, my dear," answered Oldbuck, propitiated by the compliment, "I will - rein in my satire, and, if possible, speak no more of the <i>phoca</i>—I - will not even speak of sealing a letter, but say <i>umph,</i> and give a - nod to you when I want the wax-light—I am not <i>monitoribus asper,</i> - but, Heaven knows, the most mild, quiet, and easy of human beings, whom - sister, niece, and nephew, guide just as best pleases them." - </p> - <p> - With this little panegyric on his own docility, Mr. Oldbuck entered the - parlour, and proposed to his nephew a walk to the Mussel-crag. "I have - some questions to ask of a woman at Mucklebackit's cottage," he observed, - "and I would willingly have a sensible witness with me—so, for fault - of a better, Hector, I must be contented with you." - </p> - <p> - "There is old Edie, sir, or Caxon—could not they do better than me?" - answered M'Intyre, feeling somewhat alarmed at the prospect of a long <i>tete-a-tete</i> - with his uncle. - </p> - <p> - "Upon my word, young man, you turn me over to pretty companions, and I am - quite sensible of your politeness," replied Mr. Oldbuck. "No, sir, I - intend the old Blue-Gown shall go with me—not as a competent - witness, for he is, at present, as our friend Bailie Littlejohn says - (blessings on his learning!) <i>tanquam suspectus,</i> and you are <i>suspicione - major,</i> as our law has it." - </p> - <p> - "I wish I were a major, sir," said Hector, catching only the last, and, to - a soldier's ear, the most impressive word in the sentence,—"but, - without money or interest, there is little chance of getting the step." - </p> - <p> - "Well, well, most doughty son of Priam," said the Antiquary, "be ruled by - your friends, and there's no saying what may happen—Come away with - me, and you shall see what may be useful to you should you ever sit upon a - court-martial, sir." - </p> - <p> - "I have been on many a regimental court-martial, sir," answered Captain - M'Intyre. "But here's a new cane for you." - </p> - <p> - "Much obliged, much obliged." - </p> - <p> - "I bought it from our drum-major," added M'Intyre, "who came into our - regiment from the Bengal army when it came down the Red Sea. It was cut on - the banks of the Indus, I assure you." - </p> - <p> - "Upon my word, 'tis a fine ratan, and well replaces that which the <i>ph</i>— - Bah! what was I going to say?" - </p> - <p> - The party, consisting of the Antiquary, his nephew, and the old beggar, - now took the sands towards Mussel-crag—the former in the very - highest mood of communicating information, and the others, under a sense - of former obligation, and some hope for future favours, decently attentive - to receive it. The uncle and nephew walked together, the mendicant about a - step and a half behind, just near enough for his patron to speak to him by - a slight inclination of his neck, and without the trouble of turning - round. (Petrie, in his Essay on Good-breeding, dedicated to the - magistrates of Edinburgh, recommends, upon his own experience, as tutor in - a family of distinction, this attitude to all led captains, tutors, - dependants, and bottle-holders of every description. ) Thus escorted, the - Antiquary moved along full of his learning, like a lordly man of war, and - every now and then yawing to starboard and larboard to discharge a - broadside upon his followers. - </p> - <p> - "And so it is your opinion," said he to the mendicant, "that this windfall—this - <i>arca auri,</i> as Plautus has it, will not greatly avail Sir Arthur in - his necessities?" - </p> - <p> - "Unless he could find ten times as much," said the beggar, "and that I am - sair doubtful of;—I heard Puggie Orrock, and the tother thief of a - sheriff-officer, or messenger, speaking about it—and things are ill - aff when the like o' them can speak crousely about ony gentleman's - affairs. I doubt Sir Arthur will be in stane wa's for debt, unless there's - swift help and certain." - </p> - <p> - "You speak like a fool," said the Antiquary.—"Nephew, it is a - remarkable thing, that in this happy country no man can be legally - imprisoned for debt." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, sir?" said M'Intyre; "I never knew that before—that part of - our law would suit some of our mess well." - </p> - <p> - "And if they arena confined for debt," said Ochiltree, "what is't that - tempts sae mony puir creatures to bide in the tolbooth o' Fairport yonder?—they - a' say they were put there by their creditors—Od! they maun like it - better than I do, if they're there o' free will." - </p> - <p> - "A very natural observation, Edie, and many of your betters would make the - same; but it is founded entirely upon ignorance of the feudal system. - Hector, be so good as to attend, unless you are looking out for another— - Ahem!" (Hector compelled himself to give attention at this hint. ) "And - you, Edie, it may be useful to you <i>reram cognoscere causas.</i> The - nature and origin of warrant for caption is a thing <i>haud alienum a - Scaevolae studiis.</i>—You must know then, once more, that nobody - can be arrested in Scotland for debt." - </p> - <p> - "I haena muckle concern wi' that, Monkbarns," said the old man, "for - naebody wad trust a bodle to a gaberlunzie." - </p> - <p> - "I pr'ythee, peace, man—As a compulsitor, therefore, of payment, - that being a thing to which no debtor is naturally inclined, as I have too - much reason to warrant from the experience I have had with my own,—we - had first the letters of four forms, a sort of gentle invitation, by which - our sovereign lord the king, interesting himself, as a monarch should, in - the regulation of his subjects' private affairs, at first by mild - exhortation, and afterwards by letters of more strict enjoinment and more - hard compulsion—What do you see extraordinary about that bird, - Hector?—it's but a seamaw." - </p> - <p> - "It's a pictarnie, sir," said Edie. - </p> - <p> - "Well, what an if it were—what does that signify at present?—But - I see you're impatient; so I will waive the letters of four forms, and - come to the modern process of diligence.—You suppose, now, a man's - committed to prison because he cannot pay his debt? Quite otherwise: the - truth is, the king is so good as to interfere at the request of the - creditor, and to send the debtor his royal command to do him justice - within a certain time—fifteen days, or six, as the case may be. - Well, the man resists and disobeys: what follows? Why, that he be lawfully - and rightfully declared a rebel to our gracious sovereign, whose command - he has disobeyed, and that by three blasts of a horn at the market-place - of Edinburgh, the metropolis of Scotland. And he is then legally - imprisoned, not on account of any civil debt, but because of his - ungrateful contempt of the royal mandate. What say you to that, Hector?—there's - something you never knew before."* - </p> - <p> - * The doctrine of Monkbarns on the origin of imprisonment for civil debt - in Scotland, may appear somewhat whimsical, but was referred to, and - admitted to be correct, by the Bench of the Supreme Scottish Court, on 5th - December 1828, in the case of Thom <i>v.</i> Black. In fact, the Scottish - law is in this particular more jealous of the personal liberty of the - subject than any other code in Europe. - </p> - <p> - "No, uncle; but, I own, if I wanted money to pay my debts, I would rather - thank the king to send me some, than to declare me a rebel for not doing - what I could not do." - </p> - <p> - "Your education has not led you to consider these things," replied his - uncle; "you are incapable of estimating the elegance of the legal fiction, - and the manner in which it reconciles that duress, which, for the - protection of commerce, it has been found necessary to extend towards - refractory debtors, with the most scrupulous attention to the liberty of - the subject." - </p> - <p> - "I don't know, sir," answered the unenlightened Hector; "but if a man must - pay his debt or go to jail, it signifies but little whether he goes as a - debtor or a rebel, I should think. But you say this command of the king's - gives a license of so many days—Now, egad, were I in the scrape, I - would beat a march and leave the king and the creditor to settle it among - themselves before they came to extremities." - </p> - <p> - "So wad I," said Edie; "I wad gie them leg-bail to a certainty." - </p> - <p> - "True," replied Monkbarns; "but those whom the law suspects of being - unwilling to abide her formal visit, she proceeds with by means of a - shorter and more unceremonious call, as dealing with persons on whom - patience and favour would be utterly thrown away." - </p> - <p> - "Ay," said Ochiltree, "that will be what they ca' the fugie-warrants—I - hae some skeel in them. There's Border-warrants too in the south country, - unco rash uncanny things;—I was taen up on ane at Saint James's - Fair, and keepit in the auld kirk at Kelso the haill day and night; and a - cauld goustie place it was, I'se assure ye.—But whatna wife's this, - wi' her creel on her back? It's puir Maggie hersell, I'm thinking." - </p> - <p> - It was so. The poor woman's sense of her loss, if not diminished, was - become at least mitigated by the inevitable necessity of attending to the - means of supporting her family; and her salutation to Oldbuck was made in - an odd mixture between the usual language of solicitation with which she - plied her customers, and the tone of lamentation for her recent calamity. - </p> - <p> - "How's a' wi' ye the day, Monkbarns? I havena had the grace yet to come - down to thank your honour for the credit ye did puir Steenie, wi' laying - his head in a rath grave, puir fallow. "—Here she whimpered and - wiped her eyes with the corner of her blue apron—"But the fishing - comes on no that ill, though the gudeman hasna had the heart to gang to - sea himsell— Atweel I would fain tell him it wad do him gude to put - hand to wark—but I'm maist fear'd to speak to him—and it's an - unco thing to hear ane o' us speak that gate o' a man—However, I hae - some dainty caller haddies, and they sall be but three shillings the - dozen, for I hae nae pith to drive a bargain ennow, and maun just tak what - ony Christian body will gie, wi' few words and nae flyting." - </p> - <p> - "What shall we do, Hector?" said Oldbuck, pausing: "I got into disgrace - with my womankind for making a bad bargain with her before. These maritime - animals, Hector, are unlucky to our family." - </p> - <p> - "Pooh, sir, what would you do?—give poor Maggie what she asks, or - allow me to send a dish of fish up to Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - And he held out the money to her; but Maggie drew back her hand. "Na, na, - Captain; ye're ower young and ower free o' your siller—ye should - never tak a fish-wife's first bode; and troth I think maybe a flyte wi' - the auld housekeeper at Monkbarns, or Miss Grizel, would do me some gude—And - I want to see what that hellicate quean Jenny Ritherout's doing—folk - said she wasna weel—She'll be vexing hersell about Steenie, the - silly tawpie, as if he wad ever hae lookit ower his shouther at the like - o'her!—Weel, Monkbarns, they're braw caller haddies, and they'll bid - me unco little indeed at the house if ye want crappit-heads the day." - </p> - <p> - And so on she paced with her burden,—grief, gratitude for the - sympathy of her betters, and the habitual love of traffic and of gain, - chasing each other through her thoughts. - </p> - <p> - "And now that we are before the door of their hut," said Ochiltree, "I wad - fain ken, Monkbarns, what has gar'd ye plague yoursell wi' me a' this - length? I tell ye sincerely I hae nae pleasure in ganging in there. I - downa bide to think how the young hae fa'en on a' sides o' me, and left me - an useless auld stump wi' hardly a green leaf on't." - </p> - <p> - "This old woman," said Oldbuck, "sent you on a message to the Earl of - Glenallan, did she not?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay!" said the surprised mendicant; "how ken ye that sae weel?" - </p> - <p> - "Lord Glenallan told me himself," answered the Antiquary; "so there is no - delation—no breach of trust on your part; and as he wishes me to - take her evidence down on some important family matters, I chose to bring - you with me, because in her situation, hovering between dotage and - consciousness, it is possible that your voice and appearance may awaken - trains of recollection which I should otherwise have no means of exciting. - The human mind—what are you about, Hector?" - </p> - <p> - "I was only whistling for the dog, sir," replied the Captain "she always - roves too wide—I knew I should be troublesome to you." - </p> - <p> - "Not at all, not at all," said Oldbuck, resuming the subject of his - disquisition—"the human mind is to be treated like a skein of - ravelled silk, where you must cautiously secure one free end before you - can make any progress in disentangling it." - </p> - <p> - "I ken naething about that," said the gaberlunzie; "but an my auld - acquaintance be hersell, or anything like hersell, she may come to wind us - a pirn. It's fearsome baith to see and hear her when she wampishes about - her arms, and gets to her English, and speaks as if she were a prent book, - let a-be an auld fisher's wife. But, indeed, she had a grand education, - and was muckle taen out afore she married an unco bit beneath hersell. - She's aulder than me by half a score years—but I mind weel eneugh - they made as muckle wark about her making a half-merk marriage wi' Simon - Mucklebackit, this Saunders's father, as if she had been ane o' the - gentry. But she got into favour again, and then she lost it again, as I - hae heard her son say, when he was a muckle chield; and then they got - muckle siller, and left the Countess's land, and settled here. But things - never throve wi' them. Howsomever, she's a weel-educate woman, and an she - win to her English, as I hae heard her do at an orra time, she may come to - fickle us a'." - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0019" id="Alink2HCH0019"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER NINETEENTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Life ebbs from such old age, unmarked and silent, - As the slow neap-tide leaves yon stranded galley.— - Late she rocked merrily at the least impulse - That wind or wave could give; but now her keel - Is settling on the sand, her mast has ta'en - An angle with the sky, from which it shifts not. - Each wave receding shakes her less and less, - Till, bedded on the strand, she shall remain - Useless as motionless. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - As the Antiquary lifted the latch of the hut, he was surprised to hear the - shrill tremulous voice of Elspeth chanting forth an old ballad in a wild - and doleful recitative. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "The herring loves the merry moonlight, - The mackerel loves the wind, - But the oyster loves the dredging sang, - For they come of a gentle kind." -</pre> - <p> - A diligent collector of these legendary scraps of ancient poetry, his foot - refused to cross the threshold when his ear was thus arrested, and his - hand instinctively took pencil and memorandum-book. From time to time the - old woman spoke as if to the children—"Oh ay, hinnies, whisht! - whisht! and I'll begin a bonnier ane than that— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Now haud your tongue, baith wife and carle, - And listen, great and sma', - And I will sing of Glenallan's Earl - That fought on the red Harlaw. - - "The cronach's cried on Bennachie, - And doun the Don and a', - And hieland and lawland may mournfu' be - For the sair field of Harlaw.— -</pre> - <p> - I dinna mind the neist verse weel—my memory's failed, and theres - unco thoughts come ower me—God keep us frae temptation!" - </p> - <p> - Here her voice sunk in indistinct muttering. - </p> - <p> - "It's a historical ballad," said Oldbuck, eagerly, "a genuine and - undoubted fragment of minstrelsy! Percy would admire its simplicity— - Ritson could not impugn its authenticity." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, but it's a sad thing," said Ochiltree, "to see human nature sae far - owertaen as to be skirling at auld sangs on the back of a loss like hers." - </p> - <p> - "Hush! hush!" said the Antiquary—"she has gotten the thread of the - story again. "—And as he spoke, she sung— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "They saddled a hundred milk-white steeds, - They hae bridled a hundred black, - With a chafron of steel on each horse's head, - And a good knight upon his back. "— -</pre> - <p> - "Chafron!" exclaimed the Antiquary,—"equivalent, perhaps, to <i>cheveron;</i>—the - word's worth a dollar,"—and down it went in his red book. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "They hadna ridden a mile, a mile, - A mile, but barely ten, - When Donald came branking down the brae - Wi' twenty thousand men. - - "Their tartans they were waving wide, - Their glaives were glancing clear, - Their pibrochs rung frae side to side, - Would deafen ye to hear. - - "The great Earl in his stirrups stood - That Highland host to see: - Now here a knight that's stout and good - May prove a jeopardie: - - "What wouldst thou do, my squire so gay, - That rides beside my reyne, - Were ye Glenallan's Earl the day, - And I were Roland Cheyne? - - "To turn the rein were sin and shame, - To fight were wondrous peril, - What would ye do now, Roland Cheyne, - Were ye Glenallan's Earl?' -</pre> - <p> - Ye maun ken, hinnies, that this Roland Cheyne, for as poor and auld as I - sit in the chimney-neuk, was my forbear, and an awfu' man he was that - dayin the fight, but specially after the Earl had fa'en, for he blamed - himsell for the counsel he gave, to fight before Mar came up wi' Mearns, - and Aberdeen, and Angus." - </p> - <p> - Her voice rose and became more animated as she recited the warlike counsel - of her ancestor— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Were I Glenallan's Earl this tide, - And ye were Roland Cheyne, - The spur should be in my horse's side, - And the bridle upon his mane. - - "If they hae twenty thousand blades, - And we twice ten times ten, - Yet they hae but their tartan plaids, - And we are mail-clad men. - - "My horse shall ride through ranks sae rude, - As through the moorland fern, - Then neer let the gentle Norman blude - Grow cauld for Highland kerne.'" -</pre> - <p> - "Do you hear that, nephew?" said Oldbuck;—"you observe your Gaelic - ancestors were not held in high repute formerly by the Lowland warriors." - </p> - <p> - "I hear," said Hector, "a silly old woman sing a silly old song. I am - surprised, sir, that you, who will not listen to Ossian's songs of Selma, - can be pleased with such trash. I vow, I have not seen or heard a worse - halfpenny ballad; I don't believe you could match it in any pedlar's pack - in the country. I should be ashamed to think that the honour of the - Highlands could be affected by such doggrel. "—And, tossing up his - head, he snuffed the air indignantly. - </p> - <p> - Apparently the old woman heard the sound of their voices; for, ceasing her - song, she called out, "Come in, sirs, come in—good-will never halted - at the door-stane." - </p> - <p> - They entered, and found to their surprise Elspeth alone, sitting "ghastly - on the hearth," like the personification of Old Age in the Hunter's song - of the Owl,* "wrinkled, tattered, vile, dim-eyed, discoloured, torpid." - </p> - <p> - * See Mrs. Grant on the Highland Superstitions, vol. ii. p. 260, for this - fine translation from the Gaelic. - </p> - <p> - "They're a' out," she said, as they entered; "but an ye will sit a blink, - somebody will be in. If ye hae business wi' my gude-daughter, or my son, - they'll be in belyve,—I never speak on business mysell. Bairns, gie - them seats—the bairns are a' gane out, I trow,"—looking around - her;—"I was crooning to keep them quiet a wee while since; but they - hae cruppen out some gate. Sit down, sirs, they'll be in belyve;" and she - dismissed her spindle from her hand to twirl upon the floor, and soon - seemed exclusively occupied in regulating its motion, as unconscious of - the presence of the strangers as she appeared indifferent to their rank or - business there. - </p> - <p> - "I wish," said Oldbuck, "she would resume that canticle, or legendary - fragment. I always suspected there was a skirmish of cavalry before the - main battle of the Harlaw."* - </p> - <p> - * Note H. Battle of Harlaw. - </p> - <p> - "If your honour pleases," said Edie, "had ye not better proceed to the - business that brought us a' here? I'se engage to get ye the sang ony - time." - </p> - <p> - "I believe you are right, Edie—<i>Do manus</i>—I submit. But - how shall we manage? She sits there the very image of dotage. Speak to - her, Edie—try if you can make her recollect having sent you to - Glenallan House." - </p> - <p> - Edie rose accordingly, and, crossing the floor, placed himself in the same - position which he had occupied during his former conversation with her. - "I'm fain to see ye looking sae weel, cummer; the mair, that the black ox - has tramped on ye since I was aneath your roof-tree." - </p> - <p> - "Ay," said Elspeth; but rather from a general idea of misfortune, than any - exact recollection of what had happened,—"there has been distress - amang us of late—I wonder how younger folk bide it—I bide it - ill. I canna hear the wind whistle, and the sea roar, but I think I see - the coble whombled keel up, and some o' them struggling in the waves!—Eh, - sirs; sic weary dreams as folk hae between sleeping and waking, before - they win to the lang sleep and the sound! I could amaist think whiles my - son, or else Steenie, my oe, was dead, and that I had seen the burial. - Isna that a queer dream for a daft auld carline? What for should ony o' - them dee before me?—it's out o' the course o' nature, ye ken." - </p> - <p> - "I think you'll make very little of this stupid old woman," said Hector,—who - still nourished, perhaps, some feelings of the dislike excited by the - disparaging mention of his countrymen in her lay—"I think you'll - make but little of her, sir; and it's wasting our time to sit here and - listen to her dotage." - </p> - <p> - "Hector," said the Antiquary, indignantly, "if you do not respect her - misfortunes, respect at least her old age and grey hairs: this is the last - stage of existence, so finely treated by the Latin poet— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —Omni - Membrorum damno major dementia, quae nec - Nomina, servorum, nec vultus agnoscit amici, - Cum queis preterita coenavit nocte, nec illos - Quos genuit, quos eduxit." -</pre> - <p> - "That's Latin!" said Elspeth, rousing herself as if she attended to the - lines, which the Antiquary recited with great pomp of diction—"that's - Latin!" and she cast a wild glance around her—"Has there a priest - fund me out at last?" - </p> - <p> - "You see, nephew, her comprehension is almost equal to your own of that - fine passage." - </p> - <p> - "I hope you think, sir, that I knew it to be Latin as well as she did?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, as to that—But stay, she is about to speak." - </p> - <p> - "I will have no priest—none," said the beldam, with impotent - vehemence; "as I have lived I will die—none shall say that I - betrayed my mistress, though it were to save my soul!" - </p> - <p> - "That bespoke a foul conscience," said the mendicant;—"I wuss she - wad mak a clean breast, an it were but for her sake;" and he again - assailed her. - </p> - <p> - "Weel, gudewife, I did your errand to the Yerl." - </p> - <p> - "To what Earl? I ken nae Earl;—I ken'd a Countess ance—I wish - to Heaven I had never ken'd her! for by that acquaintance, neighbour, - their cam,"— and she counted her withered fingers as she spoke - "first Pride, then Malice, then Revenge, then False Witness; and Murder - tirl'd at the door-pin, if he camna ben. And werena thae pleasant guests, - think ye, to take up their quarters in ae woman's heart? I trow there was - routh o' company." - </p> - <p> - "But, cummer," continued the beggar, "it wasna the Countess of Glenallan I - meant, but her son, him that was Lord Geraldin." - </p> - <p> - "I mind it now," she said; "I saw him no that langsyne, and we had a heavy - speech thegither. Eh, sirs! the comely young lord is turned as auld and - frail as I am: it's muckle that sorrow and heartbreak, and crossing of - true love, will do wi' young blood. But suldna his mither hae lookit to - that hersell?—we were but to do her bidding, ye ken. I am sure - there's naebody can blame me—he wasna my son, and she was my - mistress. Ye ken how the rhyme says—I hae maist forgotten how to - sing, or else the tune's left my auld head— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "He turn'd him right and round again, - Said, Scorn na at my mither; - Light loves I may get mony a ane, - But minnie neer anither. -</pre> - <p> - Then he was but of the half blude, ye ken, and her's was the right - Glenallan after a'. Na, na, I maun never maen doing and suffering for the - Countess Joscelin—never will I maen for that." - </p> - <p> - Then drawing her flax from the distaff, with the dogged air of one who is - resolved to confess nothing, she resumed her interrupted occupation. - </p> - <p> - "I hae heard," said the mendicant, taking his cue from what Oldbuck had - told him of the family history—"I hae heard, cummer, that some ill - tongue suld hae come between the Earl, that's Lord Geraldin, and his young - bride." - </p> - <p> - "Ill tongue?" she said in hasty alarm; "and what had she to fear frae an - ill tongue?—she was gude and fair eneugh—at least a' body said - sae. But had she keepit her ain tongue aff ither folk, she might hae been - living like a leddy for a' that's come and gane yet." - </p> - <p> - "But I hae heard say, gudewife," continued Ochiltree, "there was a clatter - in the country, that her husband and her were ower sibb when they - married." - </p> - <p> - "Wha durst speak o' that?" said the old woman hastily; "wha durst say they - were married?—wha ken'd o' that?—Not the Countess—not I. - If they wedded in secret, they were severed in secret—They drank of - the fountains of their ain deceit." - </p> - <p> - "No, wretched beldam!" exclaimed Oldbuck, who could keep silence no - longer, "they drank the poison that you and your wicked mistress prepared - for them." - </p> - <p> - "Ha, ha!" she replied, "I aye thought it would come to this. It's but - sitting silent when they examine me—there's nae torture in our days; - and if there is, let them rend me!—It's ill o' the vassal's mouth - that betrays the bread it eats." - </p> - <p> - "Speak to her, Edie," said the Antiquary; "she knows your voice, and - answers to it most readily." - </p> - <p> - "We shall mak naething mair out o' her," said Ochiltree. "When she has - clinkit hersell down that way, and faulded her arms, she winna speak a - word, they say, for weeks thegither. And besides, to my thinking, her face - is sair changed since we cam in. However, I'se try her ance mair to - satisfy your honour.—So ye canna keep in mind, cummer, that your - auld mistress, the Countess Joscelin, has been removed?" - </p> - <p> - "Removed!" she exclaimed; for that name never failed to produce its usual - effect upon her; "then we maun a' follow—a' maun ride when she is in - the saddle. Tell them to let Lord Geraldin ken we're on before them. Bring - my hood and scarf—ye wadna hae me gang in the carriage wi' my leddy, - and my hair in this fashion?" - </p> - <p> - She raised her shrivelled arms, and seemed busied like a woman who puts on - her cloak to go abroad, then dropped them slowly and stiffly; and the same - idea of a journey still floating apparently through her head, she - proceeded, in a hurried and interrupted manner,—"Call Miss Neville—What - do you mean by Lady Geraldin? I said Eveline Neville, not Lady Geraldin— - there's no Lady Geraldin; tell her that, and bid her change her wet gown, - and no' look sae pale. Bairn! what should she do wi' a bairn?—maidens - hae nane, I trow.—Teresa—Teresa—my lady calls us!—Bring - a candle;—the grand staircase is as mirk as a Yule midnight—We - are coming, my lady!"—With these words she sunk back on the settle, - and from thence sidelong to the floor. * - </p> - <p> - * Note I. Elspeth's death. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Edie ran to support her, but hardly got her in his arms, before he said, -"It's a' ower—she has passed away even with that last word." -</pre> - <p> - "Impossible," said Oldbuck, hastily advancing, as did his nephew. But - nothing was more certain. She had expired with the last hurried word that - left her lips; and all that remained before them were the mortal relics of - the creature who had so long struggled with an internal sense of concealed - guilt, joined to all the distresses of age and poverty. - </p> - <p> - "God grant that she be gane to a better place!" said Edie, as he looked on - the lifeless body; "but oh! there was something lying hard and heavy at - her heart. I have seen mony a ane dee, baith in the field o' battle, and a - fair-strae death at hame; but I wad rather see them a' ower again, as sic - a fearfu' flitting as hers!" - </p> - <p> - "We must call in the neighbours," said Oldbuck, when he had somewhat - recovered his horror and astonishment, "and give warning of this - additional calamity. I wish she could have been brought to a confession. - And, though of far less consequence, I could have wished to transcribe - that metrical fragment. But Heaven's will must be done!" - </p> - <p> - They left the hut accordingly, and gave the alarm in the hamlet, whose - matrons instantly assembled to compose the limbs and arrange the body of - her who might be considered as the mother of their settlement. Oldbuck - promised his assistance for the funeral. - </p> - <p> - "Your honour," said Alison Breck, who was next in age to the deceased, - "suld send doun something to us for keeping up our hearts at the lykewake, - for a' Saunders's gin, puir man, was drucken out at the burial o' Steenie, - and we'll no get mony to sit dry-lipped aside the corpse. Elspeth was unco - clever in her young days, as I can mind right weel, but there was aye a - word o' her no being that chancy. Ane suldna speak ill o' the dead—mair - by token, o' ane's cummer and neighbour—but there was queer things - said about a leddy and a bairn or she left the Craigburnfoot. And sae, in - gude troth, it will be a puir lykewake, unless your honour sends us - something to keep us cracking." - </p> - <p> - "You shall have some whisky," answered Oldbuck, "the rather that you have - preserved the proper word for that ancient custom of watching the dead. - You observe, Hector, this is genuine Teutonic, from the Gothic <i>Leichnam,</i> - a corpse. It is quite erroneously called <i>Late-wake,</i> though Brand - favours that modern corruption and derivation." - </p> - <p> - "I believe," said Hector to himself, "my uncle would give away Monkbarns - to any one who would come to ask it in genuine Teutonic! Not a drop of - whisky would the old creatures have got, had their president asked it for - the use of the <i>Late-wake.</i>" - </p> - <p> - While Oldbuck was giving some farther directions, and promising - assistance, a servant of Sir Arthur's came riding very hard along the - sands, and stopped his horse when he saw the Antiquary. "There had - something," he said, "very particular happened at the Castle"—(he - could not, or would not, explain what)—"and Miss Wardour had sent - him off express to Monkbarns, to beg that Mr. Oldbuck would come to them - without a moment's delay." - </p> - <p> - "I am afraid," said the Antiquary, "his course also is drawing to a close. - What can I do?" - </p> - <p> - "Do, sir?" exclaimed Hector, with his characteristic impatience,—"get - on the horse, and turn his head homeward—you will be at Knockwinnock - Castle in ten minutes." - </p> - <p> - "He is quite a free goer," said the servant, dismounting to adjust the - girths and stirrups,—"he only pulls a little if he feels a dead - weight on him." - </p> - <p> - "I should soon be a dead weight <i>off</i> him, my friend," said the - Antiquary.—"What the devil, nephew, are you weary of me? or do you - suppose me weary of my life, that I should get on the back of such a - Bucephalus as that? No, no, my friend, if I am to be at Knockwinnock - to-day, it must be by walking quietly forward on my own feet, which I will - do with as little delay as possible. Captain M'Intyre may ride that animal - himself, if he pleases." - </p> - <p> - "I have little hope I could be of any use, uncle, but I cannot think of - their distress without wishing to show sympathy at least—so I will - ride on before, and announce to them that you are coming.—I'll - trouble you for your spurs, my friend." - </p> - <p> - "You will scarce need them, sir," said the man, taking them off at the - same time, and buckling them upon Captain Mlntyre's heels, "he's very - frank to the road." - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck stood astonished at this last act of temerity, "are you mad, - Hector?" he cried, "or have you forgotten what is said by Quintus Curtius, - with whom, as a soldier, you must needs be familiar,—<i>Nobilis - equus umbra quidem virgae regitur; ignavus ne calcari quidem excitari - potest;</i> which plainly shows that spurs are useless in every case, and, - I may add, dangerous in most." - </p> - <p> - But Hector, who cared little for the opinion of either Quintus Curtius or - of the Antiquary, upon such a topic, only answered with a heedless "Never - fear—never fear, sir." - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - With that he gave his able horse the head, - And, bending forward, struck his armed heels - Against the panting sides of his poor jade, - Up to the rowel-head; and starting so, - He seemed in running to devour the way, - Staying no longer question. -</pre> - <p> - "There they go, well matched," said Oldbuck, looking after them as they - started—"a mad horse and a wild boy, the two most unruly creatures - in Christendom! and all to get half an hour sooner to a place where nobody - wants him; for I doubt Sir Arthur's griefs are beyond the cure of our - light horseman. It must be the villany of Dousterswivel, for whom Sir - Arthur has done so much; for I cannot help observing, that, with some - natures, Tacitus's maxim holdeth good: <i>Beneficia eo usque laeta sunt - dum videntur exsolvi posse; ubi multum antevenere, pro gratia odium - redditur,</i>—from which a wise man might take a caution, not to - oblige any man beyond the degree in which he may expect to be requited, - lest he should make his debtor a bankrupt in gratitude." - </p> - <p> - Murmuring to himself such scraps of cynical philosophy, our Antiquary - paced the sands towards Knockwinnock; but it is necessary we should - outstrip him, for the purpose of explaining the reasons of his being so - anxiously summoned thither. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0020" id="Alink2HCH0020"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTIETH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - So, while the Goose, of whom the fable told, - Incumbent, brooded o'er her eggs of gold, - With hand outstretched, impatient to destroy, - Stole on her secret nest the cruel Boy, - Whose gripe rapacious changed her splendid dream, - —For wings vain fluttering, and for dying scream. - The Loves of the Sea-weeds. -</pre> - <p> - From the time that Sir Arthur Wardour had become possessor of the treasure - found in Misticot's grave, he had been in a state of mind more resembling - ecstasy than sober sense. Indeed, at one time his daughter had become - seriously apprehensive for his intellect; for, as he had no doubt that he - had the secret of possessing himself of wealth to an unbounded extent, his - language and carriage were those of a man who had acquired the - philosopher's stone. He talked of buying contiguous estates, that would - have led him from one side of the island to the other, as if he were - determined to brook no neighbour save the sea. He corresponded with an - architect of eminence, upon a plan of renovating the castle of his - forefathers on a style of extended magnificence that might have rivalled - that of Windsor, and laying out the grounds on a suitable scale. Troops of - liveried menials were already, in fancy, marshalled in his halls, and—for - what may not unbounded wealth authorize its possessor to aspire to?—the - coronet of a marquis, perhaps of a duke, was glittering before his - imagination. His daughter—to what matches might she not look - forward? Even an alliance with the blood-royal was not beyond the sphere - of his hopes. His son was already a general—and he himself whatever - ambition could dream of in its wildest visions. - </p> - <p> - In this mood, if any one endeavoured to bring Sir Arthur down to the - regions of common life, his replies were in the vein of Ancient Pistol— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - A fico for the world, and worldlings base - I speak of Africa and golden joys! -</pre> - <p> - The reader may conceive the amazement of Miss Wardour, when, instead of - undergoing an investigation concerning the addresses of Lovel, as she had - expected from the long conference of her father with Mr. Oldbuck, upon the - morning of the fated day when the treasure was discovered, the - conversation of Sir Arthur announced an imagination heated with the hopes - of possessing the most unbounded wealth. But she was seriously alarmed - when Dousterswivel was sent for to the Castle, and was closeted with her - father—his mishap condoled with—his part taken, and his loss - compensated. All the suspicions which she had long entertained respecting - this man became strengthened, by observing his pains to keep up the golden - dreams of her father, and to secure for himself, under various pretexts, - as much as possible out of the windfall which had so strangely fallen to - Sir Arthur's share. - </p> - <p> - Other evil symptoms began to appear, following close on each other. - Letters arrived every post, which Sir Arthur, as soon as he had looked at - the directions, flung into the fire without taking the trouble to open - them. Miss Wardour could not help suspecting that these epistles, the - contents of which seemed to be known to her father by a sort of intuition, - came from pressing creditors. In the meanwhile, the temporary aid which he - had received from the treasure dwindled fast away. By far the greater part - had been swallowed up by the necessity of paying the bill of six hundred - pounds, which had threatened Sir Arthur with instant distress. Of the - rest, some part was given to the adept, some wasted upon extravagances - which seemed to the poor knight fully authorized by his full-blown hopes,—and - some went to stop for a time the mouths of such claimants as, being weary - of fair promises, had become of opinion with Harpagon, that it was - necessary to touch something substantial. At length circumstances - announced but too plainly, that it was all expended within two or three - days after its discovery; and there appeared no prospect of a supply. Sir - Arthur, naturally impatient, now taxed Dousterswivel anew with breach of - those promises through which he had hoped to convert all his lead into - gold. But that worthy gentleman's turn was now served; and as he had grace - enough to wish to avoid witnessing the fall of the house which he had - undermined, he was at the trouble of bestowing a few learned terms of art - upon Sir Arthur, that at least he might not be tormented before his time. - He took leave of him, with assurances that he would return to Knockwinnock - the next morning, with such information as would not fail to relieve Sir - Arthur from all his distresses. - </p> - <p> - "For, since I have consulted in such matters, I ave never," said Mr. - Herman Dousterswivel, "approached so near de <i>arcanum,</i> what you call - de great mystery,—de Panchresta—de Polychresta—I do know - as much of it as Pelaso de Taranta, or Basilius—and either I will - bring you in two and tree days de No. III. of Mr. Mishdigoat, or you shall - call me one knave myself, and never look me in de face again no more at - all." - </p> - <p> - The adept departed with this assurance, in the firm resolution of making - good the latter part of the proposition, and never again appearing before - his injured patron. Sir Arthur remained in a doubtful and anxious state of - mind. The positive assurances of the philosopher, with the hard words - Panchresta, Basilius, and so forth, produced some effect on his mind. But - he had been too often deluded by such jargon, to be absolutely relieved of - his doubt, and he retired for the evening into his library, in the fearful - state of one who, hanging over a precipice, and without the means of - retreat, perceives the stone on which he rests gradually parting from the - rest of the crag, and about to give way with him. - </p> - <p> - The visions of hope decayed, and there increased in proportion that - feverish agony of anticipation with which a man, educated in a sense of - consequence, and possessed of opulence,—the supporter of an ancient - name, and the father of two promising children,—foresaw the hour - approaching which should deprive him of all the splendour which time had - made familiarly necessary to him, and send him forth into the world to - struggle with poverty, with rapacity, and with scorn. Under these dire - forebodings, his temper, exhausted by the sickness of delayed hope, became - peevish and fretful, and his words and actions sometimes expressed a - reckless desperation, which alarmed Miss Wardour extremely. We have seen, - on a former occasion, that Sir Arthur was a man of passions lively and - quick, in proportion to the weakness of his character in other respects; - he was unused to contradiction, and if he had been hitherto, in general, - good-humoured and cheerful, it was probably because the course of his life - had afforded no such frequent provocation as to render his irritability - habitual. - </p> - <p> - On the third morning after Dousterswivel's departure, the servant, as - usual, laid on the breakfast table the newspaper and letters of the day. - Miss Wardour took up the former to avoid the continued ill-humour of her - father, who had wrought himself into a violent passion, because the toast - was over-browned. - </p> - <p> - "I perceive how it is," was his concluding speech on this interesting - subject,—"my servants, who have had their share of my fortune, begin - to think there is little to be made of me in future. But while I <i>am</i> - the scoundrel's master I will be so, and permit no neglect—no, nor - endure a hair's-breadth diminution of the respect I am entitled to exact - from them." - </p> - <p> - "I am ready to leave your honour's service this instant," said the - domestic upon whom the fault had been charged, "as soon as you order - payment of my wages." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur, as if stung by a serpent, thrust his hand into his pocket, and - instantly drew out the money which it contained, but which was short of - the man's claim. "What money have you got, Miss Wardour?" he said, in a - tone of affected calmness, but which concealed violent agitation. - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour gave him her purse; he attempted to count the bank notes - which it contained, but could not reckon them. After twice miscounting the - sum, he threw the whole to his daughter, and saying, in a stern voice, - "Pay the rascal, and let him leave the house instantly!" he strode out of - the room. - </p> - <p> - The mistress and servant stood alike astonished at the agitation and - vehemence of his manner. - </p> - <p> - "I am sure, ma'am, if I had thought I was particularly wrang, I wadna hae - made ony answer when Sir Arthur challenged me. I hae been lang in his - service, and he has been a kind master, and you a kind mistress, and I wad - like ill ye should think I wad start for a hasty word. I am sure it was - very wrang o' me to speak about wages to his honour, when maybe he has - something to vex him. I had nae thoughts o' leaving the family in this - way." - </p> - <p> - "Go down stair, Robert," said his mistress—"something has happened - to fret my father—go down stairs, and let Alick answer the bell." - </p> - <p> - When the man left the room, Sir Arthur re-entered, as if he had been - watching his departure. "What's the meaning of this?" he said hastily, as - he observed the notes lying still on the table—"Is he not gone? Am I - neither to be obeyed as a master or a father?" - </p> - <p> - "He is gone to give up his charge to the housekeeper, sir,—I thought - there was not such instant haste." - </p> - <p> - "There <i>is</i> haste, Miss Wardour," answered her father, interrupting - her;—"What I do henceforth in the house of my forefathers, must be - done speedily, or never." - </p> - <p> - He then sate down, and took up with a trembling hand the basin of tea - prepared for him, protracting the swallowing of it, as if to delay the - necessity of opening the post-letters which lay on the table, and which he - eyed from time to time, as if they had been a nest of adders ready to - start into life and spring upon him. - </p> - <p> - "You will be happy to hear," said Miss Wardour, willing to withdraw her - father's mind from the gloomy reflections in which he appeared to be - plunged, "you will be happy to hear, sir, that Lieutenant Taffril's - gun-brig has got safe into Leith Roads—I observe there had been - apprehensions for his safety—I am glad we did not hear them till - they were contradicted." - </p> - <p> - "And what is Taffril and his gun-brig to me?" - </p> - <p> - "Sir!" said Miss Wardour in astonishment; for Sir Arthur, in his ordinary - state of mind, took a fidgety sort of interest in all the gossip of the - day and country. - </p> - <p> - "I say," he repeated in a higher and still more impatient key, "what do I - care who is saved or lost? It's nothing to me, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "I did not know you were busy, Sir Arthur; and thought, as Mr. Taffril is - a brave man, and from our own country, you would be happy to hear"— - </p> - <p> - "Oh, I am happy—as happy as possible—and, to make you happy - too, you shall have some of my good news in return." And he caught up a - letter. "It does not signify which I open first—they are all to the - same tune." - </p> - <p> - He broke the seal hastily, ran the letter over, and then threw it to his - daughter. "Ay—I could not have lighted more happily!—this - places the copestone." - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour, in silent terror, took up the letter. "Read it—read it - aloud!" said her father; "it cannot be read too often; it will serve to - break you in for other good news of the same kind." - </p> - <p> - She began to read with a faltering voice, "Dear Sir." - </p> - <p> - "He <i>dears</i> me too, you see, this impudent drudge of a writer's - office, who, a twelvemonth since, was not fit company for my second table—I - suppose I shall be dear Knight' with him by and by." - </p> - <p> - "Dear Sir," resumed Miss Wardour; but, interrupting herself, "I see the - contents are unpleasant, sir—it will only vex you my reading them - aloud." - </p> - <p> - "If you will allow me to know my own pleasure, Miss Wardour, I entreat you - to go on—I presume, if it were unnecessary, I should not ask you to - take the trouble." - </p> - <p> - "Having been of late taken into copartnery," continued Miss Wardour, - reading the letter, "by Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn, son of your late - correspondent and man of business, Girnigo Greenhorn, Esq., writer to the - signet, whose business I conducted as parliament-house clerk for many - years, which business will in future be carried on under the firm of - Greenhorn and Grinderson (which I memorandum for the sake of accuracy in - addressing your future letters), and having had of late favours of yours, - directed to my aforesaid partner, Gilbert Greenhorn, in consequence of his - absence at the Lamberton races, have the honour to reply to your said - favours." - </p> - <p> - "You see my friend is methodical, and commences by explaining the causes - which have procured me so modest and elegant a correspondent. Go on—I - can bear it." - </p> - <p> - And he laughed that bitter laugh which is perhaps the most fearful - expression of mental misery. Trembling to proceed, and yet afraid to - disobey, Miss Wardour continued to read—"I am for myself and - partner, sorry we cannot oblige you by looking out for the sums you - mention, or applying for a suspension in the case of Goldiebirds' bond, - which would be more inconsistent, as we have been employed to act as the - said Goldiebirds' procurators and attorneys, in which capacity we have - taken out a charge of horning against you, as you must be aware by the - schedule left by the messenger, for the sum of four thousand seven hundred - and fifty-six pounds five shillings and sixpence one-fourth of a penny - sterling, which, with annual-rent and expenses effeiring, we presume will - be settled during the currency of the charge, to prevent further trouble. - Same time, I am under the necessity to observe our own account, amounting - to seven hundred and sixty-nine pounds ten shillings and sixpence, is also - due, and settlement would be agreeable; but as we hold your rights, - title-deeds, and documents in hypothec, shall have no objection to give - reasonable time—say till the next money term. I am, for myself and - partner, concerned to add, that Messrs. Goldiebirds' instructions to us - are to proceed <i>peremptorie</i> and <i>sine mora,</i> of which I have - the pleasure to advise you, to prevent future mistakes, reserving to - ourselves otherwise to age' as accords. I am, for self and partner, dear - sir, your obliged humble servant, Gabriel Grinderson, for Greenhorn and - Grinderson." - </p> - <p> - "Ungrateful villain!" said Miss Wardour. - </p> - <p> - "Why, no—it's in the usual rule, I suppose; the blow could not have - been perfect if dealt by another hand—it's all just as it should - be," answered the poor Baronet, his affected composure sorely belied by - his quivering lip and rolling eye—"But here's a postscript I did not - notice—come, finish the epistle." - </p> - <p> - "I have to add (not for self but partner) that Mr. Greenhorn will - accommodate you by taking your service of plate, or the bay horses, if - sound in wind and limb, at a fair appreciation, in part payment of your - accompt." - </p> - <p> - "G—d confound him!" said Sir Arthur, losing all command of himself - at this condescending proposal: "his grandfather shod my father's horses, - and this descendant of a scoundrelly blacksmith proposes to swindle me out - of mine! But I will write him a proper answer." - </p> - <p> - And he sate down and began to write with great vehemence, then stopped and - read aloud:—"Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn,—in answer to two letters - of a late date, I received a letter from a person calling himself - Grinderson, and designing himself as your partner. When I address any one, - I do not usually expect to be answered by deputy—I think I have been - useful to your father, and friendly and civil to yourself, and therefore - am now surprised—And yet," said he, stopping short, "why should I be - surprised at that or anything else? or why should I take up my time in - writing to such a scoundrel?—I shan't be always kept in prison, I - suppose; and to break that puppy's bones when I get out, shall be my first - employment." - </p> - <p> - "In prison, sir?" said Miss Wardour, faintly. - </p> - <p> - "Ay, in prison to be sure. Do you make any question about that? Why, Mr. - what's his name's fine letter for self and partner seems to be thrown away - on you, or else you have got four thousand so many hundred pounds, with - the due proportion of shillings, pence, and half-pence, to pay that - aforesaid demand, as he calls it." - </p> - <p> - "I, sir? O if I had the means!—But where's my brother?—why - does he not come, and so long in Scotland? He might do something to assist - us." - </p> - <p> - "Who, Reginald?—I suppose he's gone with Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn, or - some such respectable person, to the Lamberton races—I have expected - him this week past; but I cannot wonder that my children should neglect me - as well as every other person. But I should beg your pardon, my love, who - never either neglected or offended me in your life." - </p> - <p> - And kissing her cheek as she threw her arms round his neck, he experienced - that consolation which a parent feels, even in the most distressed state, - in the assurance that he possesses the affection of a child. - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour took the advantage of this revulsion of feeling, to endeavour - to soothe her father's mind to composure. She reminded him that he had - many friends. - </p> - <p> - "I had many once," said Sir Arthur; "but of some I have exhausted their - kindness with my frantic projects; others are unable to assist me—others - are unwilling. It is all over with me. I only hope Reginald will take - example by my folly." - </p> - <p> - "Should I not send to Monkbarns, sir?" said his daughter. - </p> - <p> - "To what purpose? He cannot lend me such a sum, and would not if he could, - for he knows I am otherwise drowned in debt; and he would only give me - scraps of misanthropy and quaint ends of Latin." - </p> - <p> - "But he is shrewd and sensible, and was bred to business, and, I am sure, - always loved this family." - </p> - <p> - "Yes, I believe he did. It is a fine pass we are come to, when the - affection of an Oldbuck is of consequence to a Wardour! But when matters - come to extremity, as I suppose they presently will—it may be as - well to send for him. And now go take your walk, my dear—my mind is - more composed than when I had this cursed disclosure to make. You know the - worst, and may daily or hourly expect it. Go take your walk—I would - willingly be alone for a little while." - </p> - <p> - When Miss Wardour left the apartment, her first occupation was to avail - herself of the half permission granted by her father, by despatching to - Monkbarns the messenger, who, as we have already seen, met the Antiquary - and his nephew on the sea-beach. - </p> - <p> - Little recking, and indeed scarce knowing, where she was wandering, chance - directed her into the walk beneath the Briery Bank, as it was called. A - brook, which in former days had supplied the castle-moat with water, here - descended through a narrow dell, up which Miss Wardour's taste had - directed a natural path, which was rendered neat and easy of ascent, - without the air of being formally made and preserved. It suited well the - character of the little glen, which was overhung with thickets and - underwood, chiefly of larch and hazel, intermixed with the usual varieties - of the thorn and brier. In this walk had passed that scene of explanation - between Miss Wardour and Lovel which was overheard by old Edie Ochiltree. - With a heart softened by the distress which approached her family, Miss - Wardour now recalled every word and argument which Lovel had urged in - support of his suit, and could not help confessing to herself, it was no - small subject of pride to have inspired a young man of his talents with a - passion so strong and disinterested. That he should have left the pursuit - of a profession in which he was said to be rapidly rising, to bury himself - in a disagreeable place like Fairport, and brood over an unrequited - passion, might be ridiculed by others as romantic, but was naturally - forgiven as an excess of affection by the person who was the object of his - attachment. Had he possessed an independence, however moderate, or - ascertained a clear and undisputed claim to the rank in society he was - well qualified to adorn, she might now have had it in her power to offer - her father, during his misfortunes, an asylum in an establishment of her - own. These thoughts, so favourable to the absent lover, crowded in, one - after the other, with such a minute recapitulation of his words, looks, - and actions, as plainly intimated that his former repulse had been - dictated rather by duty than inclination. Isabella was musing alternately - upon this subject, and upon that of her father's misfortunes, when, as the - path winded round a little hillock covered with brushwood, the old - Blue-Gown suddenly met her. - </p> - <p> - With an air as if he had something important and mysterious to - communicate, he doffed his bonnet, and assumed the cautious step and voice - of one who would not willingly be overheard. "I hae been wishing muckle to - meet wi' your leddyship—for ye ken I darena come to the house for - Dousterswivel." - </p> - <p> - "I heard indeed," said Miss Wardour, dropping an alms into the bonnet—"I - heard that you had done a very foolish, if not a very bad thing, Edie— - and I was sorry to hear it." - </p> - <p> - "Hout, my bonny leddy—fulish? A' the world's fules—and how - should auld Edie Ochiltree be aye wise?—And for the evil—let - them wha deal wi' Dousterswivel tell whether he gat a grain mair than his - deserts." - </p> - <p> - "That may be true, Edie, and yet," said Miss Wardour, "you may have been - very wrong." - </p> - <p> - "Weel, weel, we'se no dispute that e'ennow—it's about yoursell I'm - gaun to speak. Div ye ken what's hanging ower the house of Knockwinnock?" - </p> - <p> - "Great distress, I fear, Edie," answered Miss Wardour; "but I am surprised - it is already so public." - </p> - <p> - "Public!—Sweepclean, the messenger, will be there the day wi' a' his - tackle. I ken it frae ane o' his concurrents, as they ca' them, that's - warned to meet him; and they'll be about their wark belyve; whare they - clip, there needs nae kame—they shear close eneugh." - </p> - <p> - "Are you sure this bad hour, Edie, is so very near?—come, I know, it - will." - </p> - <p> - "It's e'en as I tell you, leddy. But dinna be cast down—there's a - heaven ower your head here, as weel as in that fearful night atween the - Ballyburghness and the Halket-head. D'ye think He, wha rebuked the waters, - canna protect you against the wrath of men, though they be armed with - human authority?" - </p> - <p> - "It is indeed all we have to trust to." - </p> - <p> - "Ye dinna ken—ye dinna ken: when the night's darkest, the dawn's - nearest. If I had a gude horse, or could ride him when I had him, I reckon - there wad be help yet. I trusted to hae gotten a cast wi' the Royal - Charlotte, but she's coupit yonder, it's like, at Kittlebrig. There was a - young gentleman on the box, and he behuved to drive; and Tam Sang, that - suld hae mair sense, he behuved to let him, and the daft callant couldna - tak the turn at the corner o' the brig; and od! he took the curbstane, and - he's whomled her as I wad whomle a toom bicker—it was a luck I hadna - gotten on the tap o' her. Sae I came down atween hope and despair, to see - if ye wad send me on." - </p> - <p> - "And, Edie—where would ye go?" said the young lady. - </p> - <p> - "To Tannonburgh, my leddy" (which was the first stage from Fairport, but a - good deal nearer to Knockwinnock), "and that without delay—it's a' - on your ain business." - </p> - <p> - "Our business, Edie? Alas! I give you all credit for your good meaning; - but"— - </p> - <p> - "There's nae <i>buts</i> about it, my leddy, for gang I maun," said the - persevering Blue-Gown. - </p> - <p> - "But what is it that you would do at Tannonburgh?—or how can your - going there benefit my father's affairs?" - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, my sweet leddy," said the gaberlunzie, "ye maun just trust that - bit secret to auld Edie's grey pow, and ask nae questions about it. - Certainly if I wad hae wared my life for you yon night, I can hae nae - reason to play an ill pliskie t'ye in the day o' your distress." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Edie, follow me then," said Miss Wardour, "and I will try to get - you sent to Tannonburgh." - </p> - <p> - "Mak haste then, my bonny leddy—mak haste, for the love o' - goodness!"— and he continued to exhort her to expedition until they - reached the Castle. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0021" id="Alink2HCH0021"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Let those go see who will—I like it not— - For, say he was a slave to rank and pomp, - And all the nothings he is now divorced from - By the hard doom of stern necessity: - Yet it is sad to mark his altered brow, - Where Vanity adjusts her flimsy veil - O'er the deep wrinkles of repentant anguish. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - When Miss Wardour arrived in the court of the Castle, she was apprized by - the first glance that the visit of the officers of the law had already - taken place. There was confusion, and gloom and sorrow, and curiosity - among the domestics, while the retainers of the law went from place to - place, making an inventory of the goods and chattels falling under their - warrant of distress, or poinding, as it is called in the law of Scotland. - Captain M'Intyre flew to her, as, struck dumb with the melancholy - conviction of her father's ruin, she paused upon the threshold of the - gateway. - </p> - <p> - "Dear Miss Wardour," he said, "do not make yourself uneasy; my uncle is - coming immediately, and I am sure he will find some way to clear the house - of these rascals." - </p> - <p> - "Alas! Captain M'Intyre, I fear it will be too late." - </p> - <p> - "No," answered Edie, impatiently—"could I but get to Tannonburgh. In - the name of Heaven, Captain, contrive some way to get me on, and ye'll do - this poor ruined family the best day's doing that has been done them since - Redhand's days—for as sure as e'er an auld saw came true, - Knockwinnock house and land will be lost and won this day." - </p> - <p> - "Why, what good can you do, old man?" said Hector. - </p> - <p> - But Robert, the domestic with whom Sir Arthur had been so much displeased - in the morning, as if he had been watching for an opportunity to display - his zeal, stepped hastily forward and said to his mistress, "If you - please, ma'am, this auld man, Ochiltree, is very skeely and auld-farrant - about mony things, as the diseases of cows and horse, and sic like, and I - am sure be disna want to be at Tannonburgh the day for naething, since he - insists on't this gate; and, if your leddyship pleases, I'll drive him - there in the taxed-cart in an hour's time. I wad fain be of some use—I - could bite my very tongue out when I think on this morning." - </p> - <p> - "I am obliged to you, Robert," said Miss Wardour; "and if you really think - it has the least chance of being useful"— - </p> - <p> - "In the name of God," said the old man, "yoke the cart, Robie, and if I am - no o' some use, less or mair, I'll gie ye leave to fling me ower - Kittlebrig as ye come back again. But, O man, haste ye, for time's - precious this day." - </p> - <p> - Robert looked at his mistress as she retired into the house, and seeing he - was not prohibited, flew to the stable-yard, which was adjacent to the - court, in order to yoke the carriage; for, though an old beggar was the - personage least likely to render effectual assistance in a case of - pecuniary distress, yet there was among the common people of Edie's - circle, a general idea of his prudence and sagacity, which authorized - Robert's conclusion that he would not so earnestly have urged the - necessity of this expedition had he not been convinced of its utility. But - so soon as the servant took hold of a horse to harness him for the - taxed-cart, an officer touched him on the shoulder—"My friend, you - must let that beast alone—he's down in the schedule." - </p> - <p> - "What!" said Robert, "am I not to take my master's horse to go my young - leddy's errand?" - </p> - <p> - "You must remove nothing here," said the man of office, "or you will be - liable for all consequences." - </p> - <p> - "What the devil, sir," said Hector, who having followed to examine - Ochiltree more closely on the nature of his hopes and expectations, - already began to bristle like one of the terriers of his own native - mountains, and sought but a decent pretext for venting his displeasure, - "have you the impudence to prevent the young lady's servant from obeying - her orders?" - </p> - <p> - There was something in the air and tone of the young soldier, which seemed - to argue that his interference was not likely to be confined to mere - expostulation; and which, if it promised finally the advantages of a - process of battery and deforcement, would certainly commence with the - unpleasant circumstances necessary for founding such a complaint. The - legal officer, confronted with him of the military, grasped with one - doubtful hand the greasy bludgeon which was to enforce his authority, and - with the other produced his short official baton, tipped with silver, and - having a movable ring upon it—"Captain M'Intyre,—Sir, I have - no quarrel with you,—but if you interrupt me in my duty, I will - break the wand of peace, and declare myself deforced." - </p> - <p> - "And who the devil cares," said Hector, totally ignorant of the words of - judicial action, "whether you declare yourself divorced or married? And as - to breaking your wand, or breaking the peace, or whatever you call it, all - I know is, that I will break your bones if you prevent the lad from - harnessing the horses to obey his mistress's orders." - </p> - <p> - "I take all who stand here to witness," said the messenger, "that I showed - him my blazon, and explained my character. He that will to Cupar maun to - Cupar,"—and he slid his enigmatical ring from one end of the baton - to the other, being the appropriate symbol of his having been forcibly - interrupted in the discharge of his duty. - </p> - <p> - Honest Hector, better accustomed to the artillery of the field than to - that of the law, saw this mystical ceremony with great indifference; and - with like unconcern beheld the messenger sit down to write out an - execution of deforcement. But at this moment, to prevent the well-meaning - hot-headed Highlander from running the risk of a severe penalty, the - Antiquary arrived puffing and blowing, with his handkerchief crammed under - his hat, and his wig upon the end of his stick. - </p> - <p> - "What the deuce is the matter here?" he exclaimed, hastily adjusting his - head-gear; "I have been following you in fear of finding your idle - loggerhead knocked against one rock or other, and here I find you parted - with your Bucephalus, and quarrelling with Sweepclean. A messenger, - Hector, is a worse foe than a <i>phoca,</i> whether it be the <i>phoca - barbata,</i> or the <i>phoca vitulina</i> of your late conflict." - </p> - <p> - "D—n the <i>phoca,</i> sir," said Hector, "whether it be the one or - the other—I say d—n them both particularly! I think you would - not have me stand quietly by and see a scoundrel like this, because he - calls himself a king's messenger, forsooth—(I hope the king has many - better for his meanest errands)—insult a young lady of family and - fashion like Miss Wardour?" - </p> - <p> - "Rightly argued, Hector," said the Antiquary; "but the king, like other - people, has now and then shabby errands, and, in your ear, must have - shabby fellows to do them. But even supposing you unacquainted with the - statutes of William the Lion, in which <i>capite quarto versu quinto,</i> - this crime of deforcement is termed <i>despectus Domini Regis</i>—a - contempt, to wit, of the king himself, in whose name all legal diligence - issues,— could you not have inferred, from the information I took so - much pains to give you to-day, that those who interrupt officers who come - to execute letters of caption, are <i>tanquam participes criminis - rebellionis?</i> seeing that he who aids a rebel, is himself, <i>quodammodo,</i> - an accessory to rebellion—But I'll bring you out of this scrape." - </p> - <p> - He then spoke to the messenger, who, upon his arrival, had laid aside all - thoughts of making a good by-job out of the deforcement, and accepted Mr. - Oldbuck's assurances that the horse and taxed-cart should be safely - returned in the course of two or three hours. - </p> - <p> - "Very well, sir," said the Antiquary, "since you are disposed to be so - civil, you shall have another job in your own best way—a little cast - of state politics—a crime punishable <i>per Legem Juliam,</i> Mr. - Sweepclean— Hark thee hither." - </p> - <p> - And after a whisper of five minutes, he gave him a slip of paper, on - receiving which, the messenger mounted his horse, and, with one of his - assistants, rode away pretty sharply. The fellow who remained seemed to - delay his operations purposely, proceeded in the rest of his duty very - slowly, and with the caution and precision of one who feels himself - overlooked by a skilful and severe inspector. - </p> - <p> - In the meantime, Oldbuck, taking his nephew by the arm, led him into the - house, and they were ushered into the presence of Sir Arthur Wardour, who, - in a flutter between wounded pride, agonized apprehension, and vain - attempts to disguise both under a show of indifference, exhibited a - spectacle of painful interest. - </p> - <p> - "Happy to see you, Mr. Oldbuck—always happy to see my friends in - fair weather or foul," said the poor Baronet, struggling not for - composure, but for gaiety—an affectation which was strongly - contrasted by the nervous and protracted grasp of his hand, and the - agitation of his whole demeanour—"I am happy to see you. You are - riding, I see—I hope in this confusion your horses are taken good - care of—I always like to have my friend's horses looked after—Egad! - they will have all my care now, for you see they are like to leave me none - of my own—he! he! he! eh, Mr. Oldbuck?" - </p> - <p> - This attempt at a jest was attended by a hysterical giggle, which poor Sir - Arthur intended should sound as an indifferent laugh. - </p> - <p> - "You know I never ride, Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "I beg your pardon; but sure I saw your nephew arrive on horseback a short - time since. We must look after officers' horses, and his was as handsome a - grey charger as I have seen." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur was about to ring the bell, when Mr. Oldbuck said, "My nephew - came on your own grey horse, Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - "Mine!" said the poor Baronet; "mine was it? then the sun had been in my - eyes. Well, I'm not worthy having a horse any longer, since I don't know - my own when I see him." - </p> - <p> - "Good Heaven!" thought Oldbuck, "how is this man altered from the formal - stolidity of his usual manner!—he grows wanton under adversity—<i>Sed - pereunti mille figurae.</i>"—He then proceeded aloud—"Sir - Arthur, we must necessarily speak a little on business." - </p> - <p> - "To be sure," said Sir Arthur; "but it was so good that I should not know - the horse I have ridden these five years—ha! ha! ha!" - </p> - <p> - "Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary, "don't let us waste time which is - precious; we shall have, I hope, many better seasons for jesting— <i>desipere - in loco</i> is the maxim of Horace. I more than suspect this has been - brought on by the villany of Dousterswivel." - </p> - <p> - "Don't mention his name, sir!" said Sir Arthur; and his manner entirely - changed from a fluttered affectation of gaiety to all the agitation of - fury; his eyes sparkled, his mouth foamed, his hands were clenched— - "don't mention his name, sir," he vociferated, "unless you would see me go - mad in your presence! That I should have been such a miserable dolt— - such an infatuated idiot—such a beast endowed with thrice a beast's - stupidity, to be led and driven and spur-galled by such a rascal, and - under such ridiculous pretences!—Mr. Oldbuck, I could tear myself - when I think of it." - </p> - <p> - "I only meant to say," answered the Antiquary, "that this fellow is like - to meet his reward; and I cannot but think we shall frighten something out - of him that may be of service to you. He has certainly had some unlawful - correspondence on the other side of the water." - </p> - <p> - "Has he?—has he?—has he indeed?—then d—n the - house-hold goods, horses, and so forth—I will go to prison a happy - man, Mr. Oldbuck. I hope in heaven there's a reasonable chance of his - being hanged?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, pretty fair," said Oldbuck, willing to encourage this diversion, in - hopes it might mitigate the feelings which seemed like to overset the poor - man's understanding; "honester men have stretched a rope, or the law has - been sadly cheated—But this unhappy business of yours—can - nothing be done? Let me see the charge." - </p> - <p> - He took the papers; and, as he read them, his countenance grew hopelessly - dark and disconsolate. Miss Wardour had by this time entered the - apartment, and fixing her eyes on Mr. Oldbuck, as if she meant to read her - fate in his looks, easily perceived, from the change in his eye, and the - dropping of his nether-jaw, how little was to be hoped. - </p> - <p> - "We are then irremediably ruined, Mr. Oldbuck?" said the young lady. - </p> - <p> - "Irremediably?—I hope not—but the instant demand is very - large, and others will, doubtless, pour in." - </p> - <p> - "Ay, never doubt that, Monkbarns," said Sir Arthur; "where the slaughter - is, the eagles will be gathered together. I am like a sheep which I have - seen fall down a precipice, or drop down from sickness—if you had - not seen a single raven or hooded crow for a fortnight before, he will not - lie on the heather ten minutes before half-a-dozen will be picking out his - eyes (and he drew his hand over his own), and tearing at his heartstrings - before the poor devil has time to die. But that d—d long-scented - vulture that dogged me so long—you have got him fast, I hope?" - </p> - <p> - "Fast enough," said the Antiquary; "the gentleman wished to take the wings - of the morning, and bolt in the what d'ye call it,—the coach and - four there. But he would have found twigs limed for him at Edinburgh. As - it is, he never got so far, for the coach being overturned—as how - could it go safe with such a Jonah?—he has had an infernal tumble, - is carried into a cottage near Kittlebrig, and to prevent all possibility - of escape, I have sent your friend Sweepclean to bring him back to - Fairport <i>in nomine regis,</i> or to act as his sick-nurse at - Kittlebrig, as is most fitting. And now, Sir Arthur, permit me to have - some conversation with you on the present unpleasant state of your - affairs, that we may see what can be done for their extrication;" and the - Antiquary led the way into the library, followed by the unfortunate - gentleman. - </p> - <p> - They had been shut up together for about two hours, when Miss Wardour - interrupted them with her cloak on as if prepared for a journey. Her - countenance was very pale, yet expressive of the composure which - characterized her disposition. - </p> - <p> - "The messenger is returned, Mr. Oldbuck." - </p> - <p> - "Returned?—What the devil! he has not let the fellow go?" - </p> - <p> - "No—I understand he has carried him to confinement; and now he is - returned to attend my father, and says he can wait no longer." - </p> - <p> - A loud wrangling was now heard on the staircase, in which the voice of - Hector predominated. "You an officer, sir, and these ragamuffins a party! - a parcel of beggarly tailor fellows—tell yourselves off by nine, and - we shall know your effective strength." - </p> - <p> - The grumbling voice of the man of law was then heard indistinctly - muttering a reply, to which Hector retorted—"Come, come, sir, this - won't do;—march your party, as you call them, out of this house - directly, or I'll send you and them to the right about presently." - </p> - <p> - "The devil take Hector," said the Antiquary, hastening to the scene of - action; "his Highland blood is up again, and we shall have him fighting a - duel with the bailiff. Come, Mr. Sweepclean, you must give us a little - time—I know you would not wish to hurry Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - "By no means, sir," said the messenger, putting his hat off, which he had - thrown on to testify defiance of Captain M'Intyre's threats; "but your - nephew, sir, holds very uncivil language, and I have borne too much of it - already; and I am not justified in leaving my prisoner any longer after - the instructions I received, unless I am to get payment of the sums - contained in my diligence." And he held out the caption, pointing with the - awful truncheon, which he held in his right hand, to the formidable line - of figures jotted upon the back thereof. - </p> - <p> - Hector, on the other hand, though silent from respect to his uncle, - answered this gesture by shaking his clenched fist at the messenger with a - frown of Highland wrath. - </p> - <p> - "Foolish boy, be quiet," said Oldbuck, "and come with me into the room— - the man is doing his miserable duty, and you will only make matters worse - by opposing him.—I fear, Sir Arthur, you must accompany this man to - Fairport; there is no help for it in the first instance—I will - accompany you, to consult what further can be done—My nephew will - escort Miss Wardour to Monkbarns, which I hope she will make her residence - until these unpleasant matters are settled." - </p> - <p> - "I go with my father, Mr. Oldbuck," said Miss Wardour firmly—"I have - prepared his clothes and my own—I suppose we shall have the use of - the carriage?" - </p> - <p> - "Anything in reason, madam," said the messenger; "I have ordered it out, - and it's at the door—I will go on the box with the coachman—I - have no desire to intrude—but two of the concurrents must attend on - horseback." - </p> - <p> - "I will attend too," said Hector, and he ran down to secure a horse for - himself. - </p> - <p> - "We must go then," said the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "To jail," said the Baronet, sighing involuntarily. "And what of that?" he - resumed, in a tone affectedly cheerful—"it is only a house we can't - get out of, after all—Suppose a fit of the gout, and Knockwinnock - would be the same—Ay, ay, Monkbarns—we'll call it a fit of the - gout without the d—d pain." - </p> - <p> - But his eyes swelled with tears as he spoke, and his faltering accent - marked how much this assumed gaiety cost him. The Antiquary wrung his - hand, and, like the Indian Banians, who drive the real terms of an - important bargain by signs, while they are apparently talking of - indifferent matters, the hand of Sir Arthur, by its convulsive return of - the grasp, expressed his sense of gratitude to his friend, and the real - state of his internal agony.—They stepped slowly down the - magnificent staircase—every well-known object seeming to the - unfortunate father and daughter to assume a more prominent and distinct - appearance than usual, as if to press themselves on their notice for the - last time. - </p> - <p> - At the first landing-place, Sir Arthur made an agonized pause; and as he - observed the Antiquary look at him anxiously, he said with assumed dignity—"Yes, - Mr. Oldbuck, the descendant of an ancient line—the representative of - Richard Redhand and Gamelyn de Guardover, may be pardoned a sigh when he - leaves the castle of his fathers thus poorly escorted. When I was sent to - the Tower with my late father, in the year 1745, it was upon a charge - becoming our birth—upon an accusation of high treason, Mr. Oldbuck;—we - were escorted from Highgate by a troop of life-guards, and committed upon - a secretary of state's warrant; and now, here I am, in my old age, dragged - from my household by a miserable creature like that" (pointing to the - messenger), "and for a paltry concern of pounds, shillings, and pence." - </p> - <p> - "At least," said Oldbuck, "you have now the company of a dutiful daughter, - and a sincere friend, if you will permit me to say so, and that may be - some consolation, even without the certainty that there can be no hanging, - drawing, or quartering, on the present occasion. But I hear that choleric - boy as loud as ever. I hope to God he has got into no new broil!—it - was an accursed chance that brought him here at all." - </p> - <p> - In fact, a sudden clamour, in which the loud voice and somewhat northern - accent of Hector was again preeminently distinguished, broke off this - conversation. The cause we must refer to the next CHAPTER. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0022" id="Alink2HCH0022"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Fortune, you say, flies from us—She but circles, - Like the fleet sea-bird round the fowler's skiff,— - Lost in the mist one moment, and the next - Brushing the white sail with her whiter wing, - As if to court the aim.—Experience watches, - And has her on the wheel— - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - The shout of triumph in Hector's warlike tones was not easily - distinguished from that of battle. But as he rushed up stairs with a - packet in his hand, exclaiming, "Long life to an old soldier! here comes - Edie with a whole budget of good news!" it became obvious that his present - cause of clamour was of an agreeable nature. He delivered the letter to - Oldbuck, shook Sir Arthur heartily by the hand, and wished Miss Wardour - joy, with all the frankness of Highland congratulation. The messenger, who - had a kind of instinctive terror for Captain M'Intyre, drew towards his - prisoner, keeping an eye of caution on the soldier's motions. - </p> - <p> - "Don't suppose I shall trouble myself about you, you dirty fellow," said - the soldier; "there's a guinea for the fright I have given you; and here - comes an old <i>forty-two</i> man, who is a fitter match for you than I - am." - </p> - <p> - The messenger (one of those dogs who are not too scornful to eat dirty - puddings) caught in his hand the guinea which Hector chucked at his face; - and abode warily and carefully the turn which matters were now to take. - All voices meanwhile were loud in inquiries, which no one was in a hurry - to answer. - </p> - <p> - "What is the matter, Captain M'Intyre?" said Sir Arthur. - </p> - <p> - "Ask old Edie," said Hector;—"I only know all's safe and well." - </p> - <p> - "What is all this, Edie?" said Miss Wardour to the mendicant. - </p> - <p> - "Your leddyship maun ask Monkbarns, for he has gotten the yepistolary - correspondensh." - </p> - <p> - "God save the king!" exclaimed the Antiquary at the first glance at the - contents of his packet, and, surprised at once out of decorum, philosophy, - and phlegm, he skimmed his cocked hat in the air, from which it descended - not again, being caught in its fall by a branch of the chandelier. He - next, looking joyously round, laid a grasp on his wig, which he perhaps - would have sent after the beaver, had not Edie stopped his hand, - exclaiming "Lordsake! he's gaun gyte!—mind Caxon's no here to repair - the damage." - </p> - <p> - Every person now assailed the Antiquary, clamouring to know the cause of - so sudden a transport, when, somewhat ashamed of his rapture, he fairly - turned tail, like a fox at the cry of a pack of hounds, and ascending the - stair by two steps at a time, gained the upper landing-place, where, - turning round, he addressed the astonished audience as follows:— - </p> - <p> - <a name="Aimage-0008" id="Aimage-0008"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pb271.jpg" alt="My Good Friends, 'favete Linguis' " - width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - "My good friends, <i>favete linguis</i>—To give you information, I - must first, according to logicians, be possessed of it myself; and, - therefore, with your leaves, I will retire into the library to examine - these papers—Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour will have the goodness to - step into the parlour—Mr. Sweepclean, <i>secede paulisper,</i> or, - in your own language, grant us a supersedere of diligence for five minutes—Hector, - draw off your forces, and make your bear-garden flourish elsewhere—and, - finally, be all of good cheer till my return, which will be <i>instanter.</i>" - </p> - <p> - The contents of the packet were indeed so little expected, that the - Antiquary might be pardoned, first his ecstasy, and next his desire of - delaying to communicate the intelligence they conveyed, until it was - arranged and digested in his own mind. - </p> - <p> - Within the envelope was a letter addressed to Jonathan Oldbuck, Esq. of - Monkbarns, of the following purport:— - </p> - <p> - "Dear Sir,—To you, as my father's proved and valued friend, I - venture to address myself, being detained here by military duty of a very - pressing nature. You must by this time be acquainted with the entangled - state of our affairs; and I know it will give you great pleasure to learn, - that I am as fortunately as unexpectedly placed in a situation to give - effectual assistance for extricating them. I understand Sir Arthur is - threatened with severe measures by persons who acted formerly as his - agents; and, by advice of a creditable man of business here, I have - procured the enclosed writing, which I understand will stop their - proceedings until their claim shall be legally discussed, and brought down - to its proper amount. I also enclose bills to the amount of one thousand - pounds to pay any other pressing demands, and request of your friendship - to apply them according to your discretion. You will be surprised I give - you this trouble, when it would seem more natural to address my father - directly in his own affairs. But I have yet had no assurance that his eyes - are opened to the character of a person against whom you have often, I - know, warned him, and whose baneful influence has been the occasion of - these distresses. And as I owe the means of relieving Sir Arthur to the - generosity of a matchless friend, it is my duty to take the most certain - measures for the supplies being devoted to the purpose for which they were - destined,—and I know your wisdom and kindness will see that it is - done. My friend, as he claims an interest in your regard, will explain - some views of his own in the enclosed letter. The state of the post-office - at Fairport being rather notorious, I must send this letter to - Tannonburgh; but the old man Ochiltree, whom particular circumstances have - recommended as trustworthy, has information when the packet is likely to - reach that place, and will take care to forward it. I expect to have soon - an opportunity to apologize in person for the trouble I now give, and have - the honour to be your very faithful servant, - </p> - <p> - "Reginald Gamelyn Wardour." "Edinburgh, 6th August, 179-." - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary hastily broke the seal of the enclosure, the contents of - which gave him equal surprise and pleasure. When he had in some measure - composed himself after such unexpected tidings, he inspected the other - papers carefully, which all related to business—put the bills into - his pocket-book, and wrote a short acknowledgment to be despatched by that - day's post, for he was extremely methodical in money matters—and - lastly, fraught with all the importance of disclosure, he descended to the - parlour. - </p> - <p> - "Sweepclean," said he, as he entered, to the officer who stood - respectfully at the door, "you must sweep yourself clean out of - Knockwinnock Castle, with all your followers, tag-rag and bob-tail. Seest - thou this paper, man?" - </p> - <p> - "A sist on a bill o' suspension," said the messenger, with a disappointed - look;—"I thought it would be a queer thing if ultimate diligence was - to be done against sic a gentleman as Sir Arthur—Weel, sir, I'se go - my ways with my party—And who's to pay my charges?" - </p> - <p> - "They who employed thee," replied Oldbuck, "as thou full well dost know.—But - here comes another express: this is a day of news, I think." - </p> - <p> - This was Mr. Mailsetter on his mare from Fairport, with a letter for Sir - Arthur, another to the messenger, both of which, he said, he was directed - to forward instantly. The messenger opened his, observing that Greenhorn - and Grinderson were good enough men for his expenses, and here was a - letter from them desiring him to stop the diligence. Accordingly, he - immediately left the apartment, and staying no longer than to gather his - posse together, he did then, in the phrase of Hector, who watched his - departure as a jealous mastiff eyes the retreat of a repulsed beggar, - evacuate Flanders. - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur's letter was from Mr. Greenhorn, and a curiosity in its way. We - give it, with the worthy Baronet's comments. - </p> - <p> - "Sir—[Oh! I am <i>dear</i> sir no longer; folks are only dear to - Messrs. Greenhorn and Grinderson when they are in adversity]—Sir, I - am much concerned to learn, on my return from the country, where I was - called on particular business [a bet on the sweepstakes, I suppose], that - my partner had the impropriety, in my absence, to undertake the concerns - of Messrs. Goldiebirds in preference to yours, and had written to you in - an unbecoming manner. I beg to make my most humble apology, as well as Mr. - Grindersons—[come, I see he can write for himself and partner too]—and - trust it is impossible you can think me forgetful of, or ungrateful for, - the constant patronage which my family [<i>his</i> family! curse him for a - puppy!] have uniformly experienced from that of Knockwinnock. I am sorry - to find, from an interview I had this day with Mr. Wardour, that he is - much irritated, and, I must own, with apparent reason. But in order to - remedy as much as in me lies the mistake of which he complains [pretty - mistake, indeed! to clap his patron into jail], I have sent this express - to discharge all proceedings against your person or property; and at the - same time to transmit my respectful apology. I have only to add, that Mr. - Grinderson is of opinion, that if restored to your confidence, he could - point out circumstances connected with Messrs. Goldiebirds' present claim - which would greatly reduce its amount [so, so, willing to play the rogue - on either side]; and that there is not the slightest hurry in settling the - balance of your accompt with us; and that I am, for Mr. G. as well as - myself, Dear Sir [O ay, he has written himself into an approach to - familiarity], your much obliged and most humble servant, - </p> - <p> - "Gilbert Greenhorn." - </p> - <p> - "Well said, Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn," said Monkbarns; "I see now there is - some use in having two attorneys in one firm. Their movements resemble - those of the man and woman in a Dutch baby-house. When it is fair weather - with the client, out comes the gentleman partner to fawn like a spaniel; - when it is foul, forth bolts the operative brother to pin like a bull-dog. - Well, I thank God that my man of business still wears an equilateral - cocked hat, has a house in the Old Town, is as much afraid of a horse as I - am myself, plays at golf of a Saturday, goes to the kirk of a Sunday, and, - in respect he has no partner, hath only his own folly to apologize for." - </p> - <p> - "There are some writers very honest fellows," said Hector; "I should like - to hear any one say that my cousin, Donald M'Intyre, Strathtudlem's - seventh son (the other six are in the army), is not as honest a fellow"— - </p> - <p> - "No doubt, no doubt, Hector, all the M'Intyres are so; they have it by - patent, man—But I was going to say, that in a profession where - unbounded trust is necessarily reposed, there is nothing surprising that - fools should neglect it in their idleness, and tricksters abuse it in - their knavery. But it is the more to the honour of those (and I will vouch - for many) who unite integrity with skill and attention, and walk - honourably upright where there are so many pitfalls and stumbling-blocks - for those of a different character. To such men their fellow citizens may - safely entrust the care of protecting their patrimonial rights, and their - country the more sacred charge of her laws and privileges." - </p> - <p> - "They are best aff, however, that hae least to do with them," said - Ochiltree, who had stretched his neck into the parlour door; for the - general confusion of the family not having yet subsided, the domestics, - like waves after the fall of a hurricane, had not yet exactly regained - their due limits, but were roaming wildly through the house. - </p> - <p> - "Aha, old Truepenny, art thou there?" said the Antiquary. "Sir Arthur, let - me bring in the messenger of good luck, though he is but a lame one. You - talked of the raven that scented out the slaughter from afar; but here's a - blue pigeon (somewhat of the oldest and toughest, I grant) who smelled the - good news six or seven miles off, flew thither in the taxed-cart, and - returned with the olive branch." - </p> - <p> - "Ye owe it o' to puir Robie that drave me;—puir fallow," said the - beggar, "he doubts he's in disgrace wi' my leddy and Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - Robert's repentant and bashful face was seen over the mendicant's - shoulder. - </p> - <p> - "In disgrace with me?" said Sir Arthur—"how so?"—for the - irritation into which he had worked himself on occasion of the toast had - been long forgotten. "O, I recollect—Robert, I was angry, and you - were wrong;—go about your work, and never answer a master that - speaks to you in a passion." - </p> - <p> - "Nor any one else," said the Antiquary; "for a soft answer turneth away - wrath." - </p> - <p> - "And tell your mother, who is so ill with the rheumatism, to come down to - the housekeeper to-morrow," said Miss Wardour, "and we will see what can - be of service to her." - </p> - <p> - "God bless your leddyship," said poor Robert, "and his honour Sir Arthur, - and the young laird, and the house of Knockwinnock in a' its branches, far - and near!—it's been a kind and gude house to the puir this mony - hundred years." - </p> - <p> - "There"—said the Antiquary to Sir Arthur—"we won't dispute—but - there you see the gratitude of the poor people naturally turns to the - civil virtues of your family. You don't hear them talk of Redhand, or - Hell-in-Harness. For me, I must say, <i>Odi accipitrem qui semper vivit in - armis</i>—so let us eat and drink in peace, and be joyful, Sir - Knight." - </p> - <p> - A table was quickly covered in the parlour, where the party sat joyously - down to some refreshment. At the request of Oldbuck, Edie Ochiltree was - permitted to sit by the sideboard in a great leathern chair, which was - placed in some measure behind a screen. - </p> - <p> - "I accede to this the more readily," said Sir Arthur, "because I remember - in my fathers days that chair was occupied by Ailshie Gourlay, who, for - aught I know, was the last privileged fool, or jester, maintained by any - family of distinction in Scotland." - </p> - <p> - "Aweel, Sir Arthur," replied the beggar, who never hesitated an instant - between his friend and his jest, "mony a wise man sits in a fule's seat, - and mony a fule in a wise man's, especially in families o' distinction." - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour, fearing the effect of this speech (however worthy of Ailsbie - Gourlay, or any other privileged jester) upon the nerves of her father, - hastened to inquire whether ale and beef should not be distributed to the - servants and people whom the news had assembled round the Castle. - </p> - <p> - "Surely, my love," said her father; "when was it ever otherwise in our - families when a siege had been raised?" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, a siege laid by Saunders Sweepclean the bailiff, and raised by Edie - Ochiltree the gaberlunzie, <i>par nobile fratrum,</i>" said Oldbuck, "and - well pitted against each other in respectability. But never mind, Sir - Arthur— these are such sieges and such reliefs as our time of day - admits of—and our escape is not less worth commemorating in a glass - of this excellent wine—Upon my credit, it is Burgundy, I think." - </p> - <p> - "Were there anything better in the cellar," said Miss Wardour, "it would - be all too little to regale you after your friendly exertions." - </p> - <p> - "Say you so?" said the Antiquary: "why, then, a cup of thanks to you, my - fair enemy, and soon may you be besieged as ladies love best to be, and - sign terms of capitulation in the chapel of Saint Winnox!" - </p> - <p> - Miss Wardour blushed—Hector coloured, and then grew pale. - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur answered, "My daughter is much obliged to you, Monkbarns; but - unless you'll accept of her yourself, I really do not know where a poor - knight's daughter is to seek for an alliance in these mercenary times." - </p> - <p> - "Me, mean ye, Sir Arthur? No, not I! I will claim privilege of the duello, - and, as being unable to encounter my fair enemy myself, I will appear by - my champion—But of this matter hereafter. What do you find in the - papers there, Hector, that you hold your head down over them as if your - nose were bleeding?" - </p> - <p> - "Nothing particular, sir; but only that, as my arm is now almost quite - well, I think I shall relieve you of my company in a day or two, and go to - Edinburgh. I see Major Neville is arrived there. I should like to see - him." - </p> - <p> - "Major whom?" said his uncle. - </p> - <p> - "Major Neville, sir," answered the young soldier. - </p> - <p> - "And who the devil is Major Neville?" demanded the Antiquary. - </p> - <p> - "O, Mr. Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, "you must remember his name frequently - in the newspapers—a very distinguished young officer indeed. But I - am happy to say that Mr. M'Intyre need not leave Monkbarns to see him, for - my son writes that the Major is to come with him to Knockwinnock, and I - need not say how happy I shall be to make the young gentlemen acquainted,—unless, - indeed, they are known to each other already." - </p> - <p> - "No, not personally," answered Hector, "but I have had occasion to hear a - good deal of him, and we have several mutual friends—your son being - one of them. But I must go to Edinburgh; for I see my uncle is beginning - to grow tired of me, and I am afraid"— - </p> - <p> - "That you will grow tired of him?" interrupted Oldbuck,—"I fear - that's past praying for. But you have forgotten that the ecstatic twelfth - of August approaches, and that you are engaged to meet one of Lord - Glenallan's gamekeepers, God knows where, to persecute the peaceful - feathered creation." - </p> - <p> - "True, true, uncle—I had forgot that," exclaimed the volatile - Hector; "but you said something just now that put everything out of my - head." - </p> - <p> - "An it like your honours," said old Edie, thrusting his white head from - behind the screen, where he had been plentifully regaling himself with ale - and cold meat—"an it like your honours, I can tell ye something that - will keep the Captain wi' us amaist as weel as the pouting—Hear ye - na the French are coming?" - </p> - <p> - "The French, you blockhead?" answered Oldbuck—"Bah!" - </p> - <p> - "I have not had time," said Sir Arthur Wardour, "to look over my - lieutenancy correspondence for the week—indeed, I generally make a - rule to read it only on Wednesdays, except in pressing cases,—for I - do everything by method; but from the glance I took of my letters, I - observed some alarm was entertained." - </p> - <p> - "Alarm?" said Edie, "troth there's alarm, for the provost's gar'd the - beacon light on the Halket-head be sorted up (that suld hae been sorted - half a year syne) in an unco hurry, and the council hae named nae less a - man than auld Caxon himsell to watch the light. Some say it was out o' - compliment to Lieutenant Taffril,—for it's neist to certain that - he'll marry Jenny Caxon,—some say it's to please your honour and - Monkbarns that wear wigs—and some say there's some auld story about - a periwig that ane o' the bailies got and neer paid for—Onyway, - there he is, sitting cockit up like a skart upon the tap o' the craig, to - skirl when foul weather comes." - </p> - <p> - "On mine honour, a pretty warder," said Monkbarns; "and what's my wig to - do all the while?" - </p> - <p> - "I asked Caxon that very question," answered Ochiltree, "and he said he - could look in ilka morning, and gie't a touch afore he gaed to his bed, - for there's another man to watch in the day-time, and Caxon says he'll - friz your honour's wig as weel sleeping as wauking." - </p> - <p> - This news gave a different turn to the conversation, which ran upon - national defence, and the duty of fighting for the land we live in, until - it was time to part. The Antiquary and his nephew resumed their walk - homeward, after parting from Knockwinnock with the warmest expressions of - mutual regard, and an agreement to meet again as soon as possible. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0023" id="Alink2HCH0023"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Nay, if she love me not, I care not for her: - Shall I look pale because the maiden blooms - Or sigh because she smiles, and smiles on others - Not I, by Heaven!—I hold my peace too dear, - To let it, like the plume upon her cap, - Shake at each nod that her caprice shall dictate. - Old Play. -</pre> - <p> - "Hector," said his uncle to Captain M'Intyre, in the course of their walk - homeward, "I am sometimes inclined to suspect that, in one respect, you - are a fool." - </p> - <p> - "If you only think me so in <i>one</i> respect, sir, I am sure you do me - more grace than I expected or deserve." - </p> - <p> - "I mean in one particular <i>par excellence,</i>" answered the Antiquary. - "I have sometimes thought that you have cast your eyes upon Miss Wardour." - </p> - <p> - "Well, sir," said M'Intyre, with much composure. - </p> - <p> - "Well, sir," echoed his uncle—"Deuce take the fellow! he answers me - as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that he, a captain - in the army, and nothing at all besides, should marry the daughter of a - baronet." - </p> - <p> - "I presume to think, sir," said the young Highlander, "there would be no - degradation on Miss Wardour's part in point of family." - </p> - <p> - "O, Heaven forbid we should come on that topic!—No, no, equal both—both - on the table-land of gentility, and qualified to look down on every <i>roturier</i> - in Scotland." - </p> - <p> - "And in point of fortune we are pretty even, since neither of us have got - any," continued Hector. "There may be an error, but I cannot plead guilty - to presumption." - </p> - <p> - "But here lies the error, then, if you call it so," replied his uncle: - "she won't have you, Hector." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed, sir?" - </p> - <p> - "It is very sure, Hector; and to make it double sure, I must inform you - that she likes another man. She misunderstood some words I once said to - her, and I have since been able to guess at the interpretation she put on - them. At the time I was unable to account for her hesitation and blushing; - but, my poor Hector, I now understand them as a death-signal to your hopes - and pretensions. So I advise you to beat your retreat and draw off your - forces as well as you can, for the fort is too well garrisoned for you to - storm it." - </p> - <p> - "I have no occasion to beat any retreat, uncle," said Hector, holding - himself very upright, and marching with a sort of dogged and offended - solemnity; "no man needs to retreat that has never advanced. There are - women in Scotland besides Miss Wardour, of as good family"— - </p> - <p> - "And better taste," said his uncle; "doubtless there are, Hector; and - though I cannot say but that she is one of the most accomplished as well - as sensible girls I have seen, yet I doubt, much of her merit would be - cast away on you. A showy figure, now, with two cross feathers above her - noddle—one green, one blue; who would wear a riding-habit of the - regimental complexion, drive a gig one day, and the next review the - regiment on the grey trotting pony which dragged that vehicle, <i>hoc erat - in votis;</i>—these are the qualities that would subdue you, - especially if she had a taste for natural history, and loved a specimen of - a <i>phoca.</i>" - </p> - <p> - "It's a little hard, sir," said Hector, "I must have that cursed seal - thrown into my face on all occasions—but I care little about it—and - I shall not break my heart for Miss Wardour. She is free to choose for - herself, and I wish her all happiness." - </p> - <p> - "Magnanimously resolved, thou prop of Troy! Why, Hector, I was afraid of a - scene. Your sister told me you were desperately in love with Miss - Wardour." - </p> - <p> - "Sir," answered the young man, "you would not have me desperately in love - with a woman that does not care about me?" - </p> - <p> - "Well, nephew," said the Antiquary, more seriously, "there is doubtless - much sense in what you say; yet I would have given a great deal, some - twenty or twenty-five years since, to have been able to think as you do." - </p> - <p> - "Anybody, I suppose, may think as they please on such subjects," said - Hector. - </p> - <p> - "Not according to the old school," said Oldbuck; "but, as I said before, - the practice of the modern seems in this case the most prudential, though, - I think, scarcely the most interesting. But tell me your ideas now on this - prevailing subject of an invasion. The cry is still, They come." - </p> - <p> - Hector, swallowing his mortification, which he was peculiarly anxious to - conceal from his uncle's satirical observation, readily entered into a - conversation which was to turn the Antiquary's thoughts from Miss Wardour - and the seal. When they reached Monkbarns, the communicating to the ladies - the events which had taken place at the castle, with the - counter-information of how long dinner had waited before the womankind had - ventured to eat it in the Antiquary's absence, averted these delicate - topics of discussion. - </p> - <p> - The next morning the Antiquary arose early, and, as Caxon had not yet made - his appearance, he began mentally to feel the absence of the petty news - and small talk of which the ex-peruquier was a faithful reporter, and - which habit had made as necessary to the Antiquary as his occasional pinch - of snuff, although he held, or affected to hold, both to be of the same - intrinsic value. The feeling of vacuity peculiar to such a deprivation, - was alleviated by the appearance of old Ochiltree, sauntering beside the - clipped yew and holly hedges, with the air of a person quite at home. - Indeed, so familiar had he been of late, that even Juno did not bark at - him, but contented herself with watching him with a close and vigilant - eye. Our Antiquary stepped out in his night-gown, and instantly received - and returned his greeting. - </p> - <p> - "They are coming now, in good earnest, Monkbarns. I just cam frae Fairport - to bring ye the news, and then I'll step away back again. The Search has - just come into the bay, and they say she's been chased by a French fleet. - </p> - <p> - "The Search?" said Oldbuck, reflecting a moment. "Oho!" - </p> - <p> - "Ay, ay, Captain Taffril's gun-brig, the Search." - </p> - <p> - "What? any relation to <i>Search, No. II.?</i>" said Oldbuck, catching at - the light which the name of the vessel seemed to throw on the mysterious - chest of treasure. - </p> - <p> - The mendicant, like a man detected in a frolic, put his bonnet before his - face, yet could not help laughing heartily.—"The deil's in you, - Monkbarns, for garring odds and evens meet. Wha thought ye wad hae laid - that and that thegither? Od, I am clean catch'd now." - </p> - <p> - "I see it all," said Oldbuck, "as plain as the legend on a medal of high - preservation—the box in which the' bullion was found belonged to the - gun-brig, and the treasure to my phoenix?"—(Edie nodded assent),—"and - was buried there that Sir Arthur might receive relief in his - difficulties?" - </p> - <p> - "By me," said Edie, "and twa o' the brig's men—but they didna ken - its contents, and thought it some bit smuggling concern o' the Captain's. - I watched day and night till I saw it in the right hand; and then, when - that German deevil was glowering at the lid o' the kist (they liked mutton - weel that licked where the yowe lay), I think some Scottish deevil put it - into my head to play him yon ither cantrip. Now, ye see, if I had said - mair or less to Bailie Littlejohn, I behoved till hae come out wi' a' this - story; and vexed would Mr. Lovel hae been to have it brought to light—sae - I thought I would stand to onything rather than that." - </p> - <p> - "I must say he has chosen his confidant well," said Oldbuck, "though - somewhat strangely." - </p> - <p> - "I'll say this for mysell, Monkbarns," answered the mendicant, "that I am - the fittest man in the haill country to trust wi' siller, for I neither - want it, nor wish for it, nor could use it if I had it. But the lad hadna - muckle choice in the matter, for he thought he was leaving the country for - ever (I trust he's mistaen in that though); and the night was set in when - we learned, by a strange chance, Sir Arthur's sair distress, and Lovel was - obliged to be on board as the day dawned. But five nights afterwards the - brig stood into the bay, and I met the boat by appointment, and we buried - the treasure where ye fand it." - </p> - <p> - "This was a very romantic, foolish exploit," said Oldbuck: "why not trust - me, or any other friend?" - </p> - <p> - "The blood o' your sister's son," replied Edie, "was on his hands, and him - maybe dead outright—what time had he to take counsel?—or how - could he ask it of you, by onybody?" - </p> - <p> - "You are right. But what if Dousterswivel had come before you?" - </p> - <p> - "There was little fear o' his coming there without Sir Arthur: he had - gotten a sair gliff the night afore, and never intended to look near the - place again, unless he had been brought there sting and ling. He ken'd - weel the first pose was o' his ain hiding, and how could he expect a - second? He just havered on about it to make the mair o' Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - "Then how," said Oldbuck, "should Sir Arthur have come there unless the - German had brought him?" - </p> - <p> - "Umph!" answered Edie drily. "I had a story about Misticot wad hae brought - him forty miles, or you either. Besides, it was to be thought he would be - for visiting the place he fand the first siller in—he ken'd na the - secret o' that job. In short, the siller being in this shape, Sir Arthur - in utter difficulties, and Lovel determined he should never ken the hand - that helped him,—for that was what he insisted maist upon,—we - couldna think o' a better way to fling the gear in his gate, though we - simmered it and wintered it e'er sae lang. And if by ony queer mischance - Doustercivil had got his claws on't, I was instantly to hae informed you - or the Sheriff o' the haill story." - </p> - <p> - "Well, notwithstanding all these wise precautions, I think your - contrivance succeeded better than such a clumsy one deserved, Edie. But - how the deuce came Lovel by such a mass of silver ingots?" - </p> - <p> - "That's just what I canna tell ye—But they were put on board wi' his - things at Fairport, it's like, and we stowed them into ane o' the - ammunition-boxes o' the brig, baith for concealment and convenience of - carriage." - </p> - <p> - "Lord!" said Oldbuck, his recollection recurring to the earlier part of - his acquaintance with Lovel; "and this young fellow, who was putting - hundreds on so strange a hazard, I must be recommending a subscription to - him, and paying his bill at the Ferry! I never will pay any person's bill - again, that's certain.—And you kept up a constant correspondence - with Lovel, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "I just gat ae bit scrape o' a pen frae him, to say there wad, as - yesterday fell, be a packet at Tannonburgh, wi' letters o' great - consequence to the Knockwinnock folk; for they jaloused the opening of our - letters at Fairport—And that's a's true; I hear Mrs. Mailsetter is - to lose her office for looking after other folk's business and neglecting - her ain." - </p> - <p> - "And what do you expect now, Edie, for being the adviser, and messenger, - and guard, and confidential person in all these matters?" - </p> - <p> - "Deil haet do I expect—excepting that a' the gentles will come to - the gaberlunzie's burial; and maybe ye'll carry the head yoursell, as ye - did puir Steenie Mucklebackit's.—What trouble was't to me? I was - ganging about at ony rate—Oh, but I was blythe when I got out of - Prison, though; for I thought, what if that weary letter should come when - I am closed up here like an oyster, and a' should gang wrang for want o't? - and whiles I thought I maun mak a clean breast and tell you a' about it; - but then I couldna weel do that without contravening Mr. Lovel's positive - orders; and I reckon he had to see somebody at Edinburgh afore he could do - what he wussed to do for Sir Arthur and his family." - </p> - <p> - "Well, and to your public news, Edie—So they are still coming are - they?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth they say sae, sir; and there's come down strict orders for the - forces and volunteers to be alert; and there's a clever young officer to - come here forthwith, to look at our means o' defence—I saw the - Bailies lass cleaning his belts and white breeks—I gae her a hand, - for ye maun think she wasna ower clever at it, and sae I gat a' the news - for my pains." - </p> - <p> - "And what think you, as an old soldier?" - </p> - <p> - "Troth I kenna—an they come so mony as they speak o', they'll be - odds against us. But there's mony yauld chields amang thae volunteers; and - I mauna say muckle about them that's no weel and no very able, because I - am something that gate mysell—But we'se do our best." - </p> - <p> - "What! so your martial spirit is rising again, Edie? - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Even in our ashes glow their wonted fires! -</pre> - <p> - I would not have thought you, Edie, had so much to fight for?" - </p> - <p> - "<i>Me</i> no muckle to fight for, sir?—isna there the country to - fight for, and the burnsides that I gang daundering beside, and the - hearths o'the gudewives that gie me my bit bread, and the bits o' weans - that come toddling to play wi' me when I come about a landward town?—Deil!" - he continued, grasping his pike-staff with great emphasis, "an I had as - gude pith as I hae gude-will, and a gude cause, I should gie some o' them - a day's kemping." - </p> - <p> - "Bravo, bravo, Edie! The country's in little ultimate danger, when the - beggar's as ready to fight for his dish as the laird for his land." - </p> - <p> - Their further conversation reverted to the particulars of the night passed - by the mendicant and Lovel in the ruins of St. Ruth; by the details of - which the Antiquary was highly amused. - </p> - <p> - "I would have given a guinea," he said, "to have seen the scoundrelly - German under the agonies of those terrors, which it is part of his own - quackery to inspire into others; and trembling alternately for the fury of - his patron, and the apparition of some hobgoblin." - </p> - <p> - "Troth," said the beggar, "there was time for him to be cowed; for ye wad - hae thought the very spirit of Hell-in-Harness had taken possession o' the - body o' Sir Arthur. But what will come o' the land-louper?" - </p> - <p> - "I have had a letter this morning, from which I understand he has - acquitted you of the charge he brought against you, and offers to make - such discoveries as will render the settlement of Sir Arthur's affairs a - more easy task than we apprehended—So writes the Sheriff; and adds, - that he has given some private information of importance to Government, in - consideration of which, I understand he will be sent back to play the - knave in his own country." - </p> - <p> - "And a' the bonny engines, and wheels, and the coves, and sheughs, doun at - Glenwithershins yonder, what's to come o' them?" said Edie. - </p> - <p> - "I hope the men, before they are dispersed, will make a bonfire of their - gimcracks, as an army destroy their artillery when forced to raise a - siege. And as for the holes, Edie, I abandon them as rat-traps, for the - benefit of the next wise men who may choose to drop the substance to - snatch at a shadow." - </p> - <p> - "Hech, sirs! guide us a'! to burn the engines? that's a great waste—Had - ye na better try to get back part o' your hundred pounds wi' the sale o' - the materials?" he continued, with a tone of affected condolence. - </p> - <p> - "Not a farthing," said the Antiquary, peevishly, taking a turn from him, - and making a step or two away. Then returning, half-smiling at his own - pettishness, he said, "Get thee into the house, Edie, and remember my - counsel, never speak to me about a mine, nor to my nephew Hector about a - <i>phoca,</i> that is a sealgh, as you call it." - </p> - <p> - "I maun be ganging my ways back to Fairport," said the wanderer; "I want - to see what they're saying there about the invasion;—but I'll mind - what your honour says, no to speak to you about a sealgh, or to the - Captain about the hundred pounds that you gied to Douster"— - </p> - <p> - "Confound thee!—I desired thee not to mention that to me." - </p> - <p> - "Dear me!" said Edie, with affected surprise; "weel, I thought there was - naething but what your honour could hae studden in the way o' agreeable - conversation, unless it was about the Praetorian yonder, or the bodle that - the packman sauld to ye for an auld coin." - </p> - <p> - "Pshaw! pshaw!" said the Antiquary, turning from him hastily, and - retreating into the house. - </p> - <p> - The mendicant looked after him a moment, and with a chuckling laugh, such - as that with which a magpie or parrot applauds a successful exploit of - mischief, he resumed once more the road to Fairport. His habits had given - him a sort of restlessness, much increased by the pleasure he took in - gathering news; and in a short time he had regained the town which he left - in the morning, for no reason that he knew himself, unless just to "hae a - bit crack wi' Monkbarns." - </p> - <p> - <a name="Alink2HCH0024" id="Alink2HCH0024"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Red glared the beacon on Pownell - On Skiddaw there were three; - The bugle horn on moor and fell - Was heard continually. - James Hogg. -</pre> - <p> - The watch who kept his watch on the hill, and looked towards Birnam, - probably conceived himself dreaming when he first beheld the fated grove - put itself into motion for its march to Dunsinane. Even so old Caxon, as - perched in his hut, he qualified his thoughts upon the approaching - marriage of his daughter, and the dignity of being father-in-law to - Lieutenant Taffril, with an occasional peep towards the signal-post with - which his own corresponded, was not a little surprised by observing a - light in that direction. He rubbed his eyes, looked again, adjusting his - observation by a cross-staff which had been placed so as to bear upon the - point. And behold, the light increased, like a comet to the eye of the - astronomer, "with fear of change perplexing nations." - </p> - <p> - "The Lord preserve us!" said Caxon, "what's to be done now? But there will - be wiser heads than mine to look to that, sae I'se e'en fire the beacon." - </p> - <p> - And he lighted the beacon accordingly, which threw up to the sky a long - wavering train of light, startling the sea-fowl from their nests, and - reflected far beneath by the reddening billows of the sea. The brother - warders of Caxon being equally diligent, caught, and repeated his signal. - The lights glanced on headlands and capes and inland hills, and the whole - district was alarmed by the signal of invasion. * - </p> - <p> - * Note J. Alarms of Invasion. - </p> - <p> - Our Antiquary, his head wrapped warm in two double night-caps, was quietly - enjoying his repose, when it was suddenly broken by the screams of his - sister, his niece, and two maid-servants. - </p> - <p> - "What the devil is the matter?" said he, starting up in his bed— - "womankind in my room at this hour of night!—are ye all mad?" - </p> - <p> - "The beacon, uncle!" said Miss M'Intyre. - </p> - <p> - "The French coming to murder us!" screamed Miss Griselda. - </p> - <p> - "The beacon! the beacon!—the French! the French!—murder! - murder! and waur than murder!"—cried the two handmaidens, like the - chorus of an opera. - </p> - <p> - <a name="Aimage-0009" id="Aimage-0009"> - <!-- IMG --></a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/pb294.jpg" alt="The Antiquary Arming " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <!-- IMAGE END --> - <p> - "The French?" said Oldbuck, starting up—"get out of the room, - womankind that you are, till I get my things on—And hark ye, bring - me my sword." - </p> - <p> - "Whilk o' them, Monkbarns?" cried his sister, offering a Roman falchion of - brass with the one hand, and with the other an Andrea Ferrara without a - handle. - </p> - <p> - "The langest, the langest," cried Jenny Rintherout, dragging in a - two-handed sword of the twelfth century. - </p> - <p> - "Womankind," said Oldbuck in great agitation, "be composed, and do not - give way to vain terror—Are you sure they are come?" - </p> - <p> - "Sure, sure!" exclaimed Jenny—"ower sure!—a' the sea - fencibles, and the land fencibles, and the volunteers and yeomanry, are on - fit, and driving to Fairport as hard as horse and man can gang—and - auld Mucklebackit's gane wi' the lave—muckle gude he'll do!—Hech, - sirs!—<i>he'll</i> be missed the morn wha wad hae served king and - country weel!" - </p> - <p> - "Give me," said Oldbuck, "the sword which my father wore in the year - forty-five—it hath no belt or baldrick—but we'll make shift." - </p> - <p> - So saying he thrust the weapon through the cover of his breeches pocket. - At this moment Hector entered, who had been to a neighbouring height to - ascertain whether the alarm was actual. - </p> - <p> - "Where are your arms, nephew?" exclaimed Oldbuck—"where is your - double-barrelled gun, that was never out of your hand when there was no - occasion for such vanities?" - </p> - <p> - "Pooh! pooh! sir," said Hector, "who ever took a fowling-piece on action? - I have got my uniform on, you see—I hope I shall be of more use if - they will give me a command than I could be with ten double-barrels. And - you, sir, must get to Fairport, to give directions for quartering and - maintaining the men and horses, and preventing confusion." - </p> - <p> - "You are right, Hector,—l believe I shall do as much with my head as - my hand too. But here comes Sir Arthur Wardour, who, between ourselves, is - not fit to accomplish much either one way or the other." - </p> - <p> - Sir Arthur was probably of a different opinion; for, dressed in his - lieutenancy uniform, he was also on the road to Fairport, and called in - his way to take Mr. Oldbuck with him, having had his original opinion of - his sagacity much confirmed by late events. And in spite of all the - entreaties of the womankind that the Antiquary would stay to garrison - Monkbarns, Mr. Oldbuck, with his nephew, instantly accepted Sir Arthur's - offer. - </p> - <p> - Those who have witnessed such a scene can alone conceive the state of - bustle in Fairport. The windows were glancing with a hundred lights, - which, appearing and disappearing rapidly, indicated the confusion within - doors. The women of lower rank assembled and clamoured in the - market-place. The yeomanry, pouring from their different glens, galloped - through the streets, some individually, some in parties of five or six, as - they had met on the road. The drums and fifes of the volunteers beating to - arms, were blended with the voice of the officers, the sound of the - bugles, and the tolling of the bells from the steeple. The ships in the - harbour were lit up, and boats from the armed vessels added to the bustle, - by landing men and guns destined to assist in the defence of the place. - This part of the preparations was superintended by Taffril with much - activity. Two or three light vessels had already slipped their cables and - stood out to sea, in order to discover the supposed enemy. - </p> - <p> - Such was the scene of general confusion, when Sir Arthur Wardour, Oldbuck, - and Hector, made their way with difficulty into the principal square, - where the town-house is situated. It was lighted up, and the magistracy, - with many of the neighbouring gentlemen, were assembled. And here, as upon - other occasions of the like kind in Scotland, it was remarkable how the - good sense and firmness of the people supplied almost all the deficiencies - of inexperience. - </p> - <p> - The magistrates were beset by the quarter-masters of the different corps - for billets for men and horses. "Let us," said Bailie Littlejohn, "take - the horses into our warehouses, and the men into our parlours—share - our supper with the one, and our forage with the other. We have made - ourselves wealthy under a free and paternal government, and now is the - time to show we know its value." - </p> - <p> - A loud and cheerful acquiescence was given by all present, and the - substance of the wealthy, with the persons of those of all ranks, were - unanimously devoted to the defence of the country. - </p> - <p> - Captain M'Intyre acted on this occasion as military adviser and - aide-de-camp to the principal magistrate, and displayed a degree of - presence of mind, and knowledge of his profession, totally unexpected by - his uncle, who, recollecting his usual <i>insouciance</i> and impetuosity, - gazed at him with astonishment from time to time, as he remarked the calm - and steady manner in which he explained the various measures of precaution - that his experience suggested, and gave directions for executing them. He - found the different corps in good order, considering the irregular - materials of which they were composed, in great force of numbers and high - confidence and spirits. And so much did military experience at that moment - overbalance all other claims to consequence, that even old Edie, instead - of being left, like Diogenes at Sinope, to roll his tub when all around - were preparing for defence, had the duty assigned him of superintending - the serving out of the ammunition, which he executed with much discretion. - </p> - <p> - Two things were still anxiously expected—the presence of the - Glenallan volunteers, who, in consideration of the importance of that - family, had been formed into a separate corps, and the arrival of the - officer before announced, to whom the measures of defence on that coast - had been committed by the commander-in-chief, and whose commission would - entitle him to take upon himself the full disposal of the military force. - </p> - <p> - At length the bugles of the Glenallan yeomanry were heard, and the Earl - himself, to the surprise of all who knew his habits and state of health, - appeared at their head in uniform. They formed a very handsome and - well-mounted squadron, formed entirely out of the Earl's Lowland tenants, - and were followed by a regiment of five hundred men, completely equipped - in the Highland dress, whom he had brought down from the upland glens, - with their pipes playing in the van. The clean and serviceable appearance - of this band of feudal dependants called forth the admiration of Captain - M'Intyre; but his uncle was still more struck by the manner in which, upon - this crisis, the ancient military spirit of his house seemed to animate - and invigorate the decayed frame of the Earl, their leader. He claimed, - and obtained for himself and his followers, the post most likely to be - that of danger, displayed great alacrity in making the necessary - dispositions, and showed equal acuteness in discussing their propriety. - Morning broke in upon the military councils of Fairport, while all - concerned were still eagerly engaged in taking precautions for their - defence. - </p> - <p> - At length a cry among the people announced, "There's the brave Major - Neville come at last, with another officer;" and their post-chaise and - four drove into the square, amidst the huzzas of the volunteers and - inhabitants. The magistrates, with their assessors of the lieutenancy, - hastened to the door of their town-house to receive him; but what was the - surprise of all present, but most especially that of the Antiquary, when - they became aware, that the handsome uniform and military cap disclosed - the person and features of the pacific Lovel! A warm embrace, and a hearty - shake of the hand, were necessary to assure him that his eyes were doing - him justice. Sir Arthur was no less surprised to recognise his son, - Captain Wardour, in Lovel's, or rather Major Neville's company. The first - words of the young officers were a positive assurance to all present, that - the courage and zeal which they had displayed were entirely thrown away, - unless in so far as they afforded an acceptable proof of their spirit and - promptitude. - </p> - <p> - "The watchman at Halket-head," said Major Neville, "as we discovered by an - investigation which we made in our route hither, was most naturally misled - by a bonfire which some idle people had made on the hill above - Glenwithershins, just in the line of the beacon with which his - corresponded." - </p> - <p> - Oldbuck gave a conscious look to Sir Arthur, who returned it with one - equally sheepish, and a shrug of the shoulders. - </p> - <p> - "It must have been the machinery which we condemned to the flames in our - wrath," said the Antiquary, plucking up heart, though not a little ashamed - of having been the cause of so much disturbance—"The devil take - Dousterswivel with all my heart!—I think he has bequeathed us a - legacy of blunders and mischief, as if he had lighted some train of - fireworks at his departure. I wonder what cracker will go off next among - our shins. But yonder comes the prudent Caxon.—Hold up your head, - you ass—your betters must bear the blame for you—And here, - take this what-d'ye-call it"—(giving him his sword)—"I wonder - what I would have said yesterday to any man that would have told me I was - to stick such an appendage to my tail." - </p> - <p> - Here he found his arm gently pressed by Lord Glenallan, who dragged him - into a separate apartment. "For God's sake, who is that young gentleman - who is so strikingly like"— - </p> - <p> - "Like the unfortunate Eveline," interrupted Oldbuck. "I felt my heart warm - to him from the first, and your lordship has suggested the very cause." - </p> - <p> - "But who—who is he?" continued Lord Glenallan, holding the Antiquary - with a convulsive grasp. - </p> - <p> - "Formerly I would have called him Lovel, but now he turns out to be Major - Neville." - </p> - <p> - "Whom my brother brought up as his natural son—whom he made his heir— - Gracious Heaven! the child of my Eveline!" - </p> - <p> - "Hold, my lord—hold!" said Oldbuck, "do not give too hasty way to - such a presumption;—what probability is there?" - </p> - <p> - "Probability? none! There is certainty! absolute certainty! The agent I - mentioned to you wrote me the whole story—I received it yesterday, - not sooner. Bring him, for God's sake, that a father's eyes may bless him - before he departs." - </p> - <p> - "I will; but for your own sake and his, give him a few moments for - preparation." - </p> - <p> - And, determined to make still farther investigation before yielding his - entire conviction to so strange a tale, he sought out Major Neville, and - found him expediting the necessary measures for dispersing the force which - had been assembled. - </p> - <p> - "Pray, Major Neville, leave this business for a moment to Captain Wardour - and to Hector, with whom, I hope, you are thoroughly reconciled" (Neville - laughed, and shook hands with Hector across the table), "and grant me a - moment's audience." - </p> - <p> - "You have a claim on me, Mr. Oldbuck, were my business more urgent," said - Neville, "for having passed myself upon you under a false name, and - rewarding your hospitality by injuring your nephew." - </p> - <p> - "You served him as he deserved," said Oldbuck—"though, by the way, - he showed as much good sense as spirit to-day—Egad! if he would rub - up his learning, and read Caesar and Polybus, and the <i>Stratagemata - Polyaeni,</i> I think he would rise in the army—and I will certainly - lend him a lift." - </p> - <p> - "He is heartily deserving of it," said Neville; "and I am glad you excuse - me, which you may do the more frankly, when you know that I am so - unfortunate as to have no better right to the name of Neville, by which I - have been generally distinguished, than to that of Lovel, under which you - knew me." - </p> - <p> - "Indeed! then, I trust, we shall find out one for you to which you shall - have a firm and legal title." - </p> - <p> - "Sir!—I trust you do not think the misfortune of my birth a fit - subject"— - </p> - <p> - "By no means, young man," answered the Antiquary, interrupting him;—"I - believe I know more of your birth than you do yourself—and, to - convince you of it, you were educated and known as a natural son of - Geraldin Neville of Neville's-Burgh, in Yorkshire, and I presume, as his - destined heir?" - </p> - <p> - "Pardon me—no such views were held out to me. I was liberally - educated, and pushed forward in the army by money and interest; but I - believe my supposed father long entertained some ideas of marriage, though - he never carried them into effect." - </p> - <p> - "You say your <i>supposed</i> father?—What leads you to suppose Mr. - Geraldin Neville was not your real father?" - </p> - <p> - "I know, Mr. Oldbuck, that you would not ask these questions on a point of - such delicacy for the gratification of idle curiosity. I will therefore - tell you candidly, that last year, while we occupied a small town in - French Flanders, I found in a convent, near which I was quartered, a woman - who spoke remarkably good English—She was a Spaniard—her name - Teresa D'Acunha. In the process of our acquaintance, she discovered who I - was, and made herself known to me as the person who had charge of my - infancy. She dropped more than one hint of rank to which I was entitled, - and of injustice done to me, promising a more full disclosure in case of - the death of a lady in Scotland, during whose lifetime she was determined - to keep the secret. She also intimated that Mr. Geraldin Neville was not - my father. We were attacked by the enemy, and driven from the town, which - was pillaged with savage ferocity by the republicans. The religious orders - were the particular objects of their hate and cruelty. The convent was - burned, and several nuns perished— among others Teresa; and with her - all chance of knowing the story of my birth: tragic by all accounts it - must have been." - </p> - <p> - "<i>Raro antecedentem scelestum,</i> or, as I may here say, <i>scelestam,</i>" - said Oldbuck, "<i>deseruit poena</i>—even Epicureans admitted that. - And what did you do upon this?" - </p> - <p> - "I remonstrated with Mr. Neville by letter, and to no purpose. I then - obtained leave of absence, and threw myself at his feet, conjuring him to - complete the disclosure which Teresa had begun. He refused, and, on my - importunity, indignantly upbraided me with the favours he had already - conferred. I thought he abused the power of a benefactor, as he was - compelled to admit he had no title to that of a father, and we parted in - mutual displeasure. I renounced the name of Neville, and assumed that - under which you knew me. It was at this time, when residing with a friend - in the north of England who favoured my disguise, that I became acquainted - with Miss Wardour, and was romantic enough to follow her to Scotland. My - mind wavered on various plans of life, when I resolved to apply once more - to Mr. Neville for an explanation of the mystery of my birth. It was long - ere I received an answer; you were present when it was put into my hands. - He informed me of his bad state of health, and conjured me, for my own - sake, to inquire no farther into the nature of his connection with me, but - to rest satisfied with his declaring it to be such and so intimate, that - he designed to constitute me his heir. When I was preparing to leave - Fairport to join him, a second express brought me word that he was no - more. The possession of great wealth was unable to suppress the remorseful - feelings with which I now regarded my conduct to my benefactor, and some - hints in his letter appearing to intimate there was on my birth a deeper - stain than that of ordinary illegitimacy, I remembered certain prejudices - of Sir Arthur." - </p> - <p> - "And you brooded over these melancholy ideas until you were ill, instead - of coming to me for advice, and telling me the whole story?" said Oldbuck. - </p> - <p> - "Exactly; then came my quarrel with Captain M'Intyre, and my compelled - departure from Fairport and its vicinity." - </p> - <p> - "From love and from poetry—Miss Wardour and the Caledoniad?" - </p> - <p> - "Most true." - </p> - <p> - "And since that time you have been occupied, I suppose, with plans for Sir - Arthur's relief?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, sir; with the assistance of Captain Wardour at Edinburgh." - </p> - <p> - "And Edie Ochiltree here—you see I know the whole story. But how - came you by the treasure?" - </p> - <p> - "It was a quantity of plate which had belonged to my uncle, and was left - in the custody of a person at Fairport. Some time before his death he had - sent orders that it should be melted down. He perhaps did not wish me to - see the Glenallan arms upon it." - </p> - <p> - "Well, Major Neville—or let me say, Lovel, being the name in which I - rather delight—you must, I believe, exchange both of your <i>alias's</i> - for the style and title of the Honourable William Geraldin, commonly - called Lord Geraldin." - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary then went through the strange and melancholy circumstances - concerning his mother's death. - </p> - <p> - "I have no doubt," he said, "that your uncle wished the report to be - believed, that the child of this unhappy marriage was no more—perhaps - he might himself have an eye to the inheritance of his brother—he - was then a gay wild young man—But of all intentions against your - person, however much the evil conscience of Elspeth might lead her to - inspect him from the agitation in which he appeared, Teresa's story and - your own fully acquit him. And now, my dear sir, let me have the pleasure - of introducing a son to a father." - </p> - <p> - We will not attempt to describe such a meeting. The proofs on all sides - were found to be complete, for Mr. Neville had left a distinct account of - the whole transaction with his confidential steward in a sealed packet, - which was not to be opened until the death of the old Countess; his motive - for preserving secrecy so long appearing to have been an apprehension of - the effect which the discovery, fraught with so much disgrace, must - necessarily produce upon her haughty and violent temper. - </p> - <p> - In the evening of that day, the yeomanry and volunteers of Glenallan drank - prosperity to their young master. In a month afterwards Lord Geraldin was - married to Miss Wardour, the Antiquary making the lady a present of the - wedding ring—a massy circle of antique chasing, bearing the motto of - Aldobrand Oldenbuck, <i>Kunst macht gunst.</i> - </p> - <p> - Old Edie, the most important man that ever wore a blue gown, bowls away - easily from one friend's house to another, and boasts that he never - travels unless on a sunny day. Latterly, indeed, he has given some - symptoms of becoming stationary, being frequently found in the corner of a - snug cottage between Monkbarns and Knockwinnock, to which Caxon retreated - upon his daughter's marriage, in order to be in the neighbourhood of the - three parochial wigs, which he continues to keep in repair, though only - for amusement. Edie has been heard to say, "This is a gey bein place, and - it's a comfort to hae sic a corner to sit in in a bad day." It is thought, - as he grows stiffer in the joints, he will finally settle there. - </p> - <p> - The bounty of such wealthy patrons as Lord and Lady Geraldin flowed - copiously upon Mrs. Hadoway and upon the Mucklebackits. By the former it - was well employed, by the latter wasted. They continue, however, to - receive it, but under the administration of Edie Ochiltree; and they do - not accept it without grumbling at the channel through which it is - conveyed. - </p> - <p> - Hector is rising rapidly in the army, and has been more than once - mentioned in the Gazette, and rises proportionally high in his uncle's - favour; and what scarcely pleases the young soldier less, he has also shot - two seals, and thus put an end to the Antiquary's perpetual harping upon - the story of the <i>phoca.</i>People talk of a marriage between Miss - M'Intyre and Captain Wardour; but this wants confirmation. - </p> - <p> - The Antiquary is a frequent visitor at Knockwinnock and Glenallan House, - ostensibly for the sake of completing two essays, one on the mail-shirt of - the Great Earl, and the other on the left-hand gauntlet of - Hell-in-Harness. He regularly inquires whether Lord Geraldin has commenced - the Caledoniad, and shakes his head at the answers he receives. <i>En - attendant,</i> however, he has completed his notes, which, we believe, - will be at the service of any one who chooses to make them public without - risk or expense to THE ANTIQUARY. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_NOTE" id="link2H_NOTE"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. - </h2> - <p> - Note A, p. #.—Mottoes. - </p> - <p> - ["It was in correcting the proof-sheets of this novel that Scott first - took to equipping his chapters with mottoes of his own fabrication. On one - occasion he happened to ask John Ballantyne, who was sitting by him, to - hunt for a particular passage in Beaumont and Fletcher. John did as he was - bid, but did not succeed in discovering the lines. 'Hang it, Johnnie,' - cried Scott, 'I believe I can make a motto sooner than you will find one.' - He did so accordingly; and from that hour, whenever memory failed to - suggest an appropriate epigraph, he had recourse to the inexhaustible - mines of "old play" or "old ballad," to which we owe some of the most - exquisite verses that ever flowed from his pen."—<i>J. G. Lockhart.</i> - </p> - <p> - See also the Introduction to "Chronicles of the Canongate," vol. xix.] - </p> - <p> - Note B, p. #.—Sandy Gordon's Itinerarium. - </p> - <p> - [This well-known work, the "Itinerarium Septentrionale, or a Journey thro' - most of the Counties of Scotland, and those in the North of England," was - published at London in 1727, folio. The author states, that in prosecuting - his work he "made a pretty laborious progress through almost every part of - Scotland for three years successively." Gordon was a native of - Aberdeenshire, and had previously spent some years in travelling abroad, - probably as a tutor. He became Secretary to the London Society of - Antiquaries in 1736. This office he resigned in 1741, and soon after went - out to South Carolina with Governor Glen, where he obtained a considerable - grant of land. On his death, about the year 1753, he is said to have left - "a handsome estate to his family."—See <i>Literary Anecdotes of - Bowyer,</i> by John Nichols, vol. v., p. 329, etc.] - </p> - <p> - Note C, p. #.—Praetorium. - </p> - <p> - It may be worth while to mention that the incident of the supposed - Praetorium actually happened to an antiquary of great learning and - acuteness, Sir John Clerk of Penicuik, one of the Barons of the Scottish - Court of Exchequer, and a parliamentary commissioner for arrangement of - the Union between England and Scotland. As many of his writings show, Sir - John was much attached to the study of Scottish antiquities. He had a - small property in Dumfriesshire, near the Roman station on the hill called - Burrenswark. Here he received the distinguished English antiquarian Roger - Gale, and of course conducted him to see this remarkable spot, where the - lords of the world have left such decisive marks of their martial labours. - </p> - <p> - An aged shepherd whom they had used as a guide, or who had approached them - from curiosity, listened with mouth agape to the dissertations on foss and - vellum, ports <i>dextra, sinistra,</i> and <i>decumana,</i> which Sir John - Clerk delivered <i>ex cathedra,</i> and his learned visitor listened with - the deference to the dignity of a connoisseur on his own ground. But when - the cicerone proceeded to point out a small hillock near the centre of the - enclosure as the Praetorium, Corydon's patience could hold no longer, and, - like Edie Ochiltree, he forgot all reverence, and broke in with nearly the - same words—"Praetorium here, Praetorium there, I made the bourock - mysell with a flaughter-spade." The effect of this undeniable evidence on - the two lettered sages may be left to the reader's imagination. - </p> - <p> - The late excellent and venerable John Clerk of Eldin, the celebrated - author of <i>Naval Tactics,</i> used to tell this story with glee, and - being a younger son of Sir John's was perhaps present on the occasion. - </p> - <p> - Note D, p. #.—Mr. Rutherfurd's Dream - </p> - <p> - The legend of Mrs. Grizel Oldbuck was partly taken from an extraordinary - story which happened about seventy years since, in the South of Scotland, - so peculiar in its circumstances that it merits being mentioned in this - place. Mr. Rutherfurd of Bowland, a gentleman of landed property in the - vale of Gala, was prosecuted for a very considerable sum, the accumulated - arrears of teind (or tithe) for which he was said to be indebted to a - noble family, the titulars (lay impropriators of the tithes). Mr. - Rutherfurd was strongly impressed with the belief that his father had, by - a form of process peculiar to the law of Scotland, purchased these lands - from the titular, and therefore that the present prosecution was - groundless. But, after an industrious search among his father's papers, an - investigation of the public records, and a careful inquiry among all - persons who had transacted law business for his father, no evidence could - be recovered to support his defence. The period was now near at hand when - he conceived the loss of his lawsuit to be inevitable, and he had formed - his determination to ride to Edinburgh next day, and make the best bargain - he could in the way of compromise. He went to bed with this resolution - and, with all the circumstances of the case floating upon his mind, had a - dream to the following purpose:—His father, who had been many years - dead, appeared to him, he thought, and asked him why he was disturbed in - his mind. In dreams men are not surprised at such apparitions. Mr. - Rutherfurd thought that he informed his father of the cause of his - distress, adding that the payment of a considerable sum of money was the - more unpleasant to him, because he had a strong consciousness that it was - not due, though he was unable to recover any evidence in support of his - belief, "You are right, my son," replied the paternal shade; "I did - acquire right to these teinds, for payment of which you are now - prosecuted. The papers relating to the transaction are in the hands of Mr.—, - a writer (or attorney), who is now retired from professional business, and - resides at Inveresk, near Edinburgh. He was a person whom I employed on - that occasion for a particular reason, but who never on any other occasion - transacted business on my account. It is very possible," pursued the - vision, "that Mr.—may have forgotten a matter which is now of a very - old date; but you may call it to his recollection by this token, that when - I came to pay his account, there was difficulty in getting change for a - Portugal piece of gold, and that we were forced to drink out the balance - at a tavern." - </p> - <p> - Mr. Rutherfurd awakened in the morning with all the words of the vision - imprinted on his mind, and thought it worth while to ride across the - country to Inveresk, instead of going straight to Edinburgh. When he came - there he waited on the gentleman mentioned in the dream, a very old man; - without saying anything of the vision, he inquired whether he remembered - having conducted such a matter for his deceased father. The old gentleman - could not at first bring the circumstance to his recollection, but on - mention of the Portugal piece of gold, the whole returned upon his memory; - he made an immediate search for the papers, and recovered them,—so - that Mr. Rutherfurd carried to Edinburgh the documents necessary to gain - the cause which he was on the verge of losing. - </p> - <p> - The author has often heard this story told by persons who had the best - access to know the facts, who were not likely themselves to be deceived, - and were certainly incapable of deception. He cannot therefore refuse to - give it credit, however extraordinary the circumstances may appear. The - circumstantial character of the information given in the dream, takes it - out of the general class of impressions of the kind which are occasioned - by the fortuitous coincidence of actual events with our sleeping thoughts. - On the other hand, few will suppose that the laws of nature were - suspended, and a special communication from the dead to the living - permitted, for the purpose of saving Mr. Rutherfurd a certain number of - hundred pounds. The author's theory is, that the dream was only the - recapitulation of information which Mr. Rutherfurd had really received - from his father while in life, but which at first he merely recalled as a - general impression that the claim was settled. It is not uncommon for - persons to recover, during sleep, the thread of ideas which they have lost - during their waking hours. - </p> - <p> - It may be added, that this remarkable circumstance was attended with bad - consequences to Mr. Rutherfurd; whose health and spirits were afterwards - impaired by the attention which he thought himself obliged to pay to the - visions of the night. - </p> - <p> - Note E, p. #.—Nick-sticks. - </p> - <p> - A sort of tally generally used by bakers of the olden time in settling - with their customers. Each family had its own nick-stick, and for each - loaf as delivered a notch was made on the stick. Accounts in Exchequer, - kept by the same kind of check, may have occasioned the Antiquary's - partiality. In Prior's time the English bakers had the same sort of - reckoning. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Have you not seen a baker's maid, - Between two equal panniers sway'd? - Her tallies useless lie and idle, - If placed exactly in the middle. -</pre> - <p> - Note F, p. #.—Witchcraft. - </p> - <p> - A great deal of stuff to the same purpose with that placed in the mouth of - the German adept, may be found in Reginald Scott's <i>Discovery of - Witchcraft,</i> Third Edition, folio, London, 1665. The Appendix is - entitled, "An Excellent Discourse of the Nature and Substances of Devils - and Spirits, in two Books; the first by the aforesaid author (Reginald - Scott), the Second now added in this Third Edition as succedaneous to the - former, and conducing to the completing of the whole work." This Second - Book, though stated as succedaneous to the first, is, in fact, entirely at - variance with it; for the work of Reginald Scott is a compilation of the - absurd and superstitious ideas concerning witches so generally entertained - at the time, and the pretended conclusion is a serious treatise on the - various means of conjuring astral spirits. - </p> - <p> - [Scott's <i>Discovery of Witchcraft</i> was first published in the reign - of Queen Elizabeth, London, 1584.] - </p> - <p> - Note G, p. #.—Gynecocracy. - </p> - <p> - In the fishing villages on the Firths of Forth and Tay, as well as - elsewhere in Scotland, the government is gynecocracy, as described in the - text. In the course of the late war, and during the alarm of invasion, a - fleet of transports entered the Firth of Forth under the convoy of some - ships of war, which would reply to no signals. A general alarm was - excited, in consequence of which, all the fishers, who were enrolled as - sea-fencibles, got on board the gun-boats which they were to man as - occasion should require, and sailed to oppose the supposed enemy. The - foreigners proved to be Russians, with whom we were then at peace. The - county gentlemen of Mid-Lothian, pleased with the zeal displayed by the - sea-fencibles at a critical moment, passed a vote for presenting the - community of fishers with a silver punch-bowl, to be used on occasions of - festivity. But the fisher-women, on hearing what was intended, put in - their claim to have some separate share in the intended honorary reward. - The men, they said, were their husbands; it was they who would have been - sufferers if their husbands had been killed, and it was by their - permission and injunctions that they embarked on board the gun-boats for - the public service. They therefore claimed to share the reward in some - manner which should distinguish the female patriotism which they had shown - on the occasion. The gentlemen of the county willingly admitted the claim; - and without diminishing the value of their compliment to the men, they - made the females a present of a valuable broach, to fasten the plaid of - the queen of the fisher-women for the time. - </p> - <p> - It may be further remarked, that these Nereids are punctilious among - themselves, and observe different ranks according to the commodities they - deal in. One experienced dame was heard to characterise a younger damsel - as "a puir silly thing, who had no ambition, and would never," she - prophesied, "rise above the <i>mussel-line</i> of business." - </p> - <p> - Note H, p. #.—Battle of Harlaw. - </p> - <p> - The great battle of Harlaw, here and formerly referred to, might be said - to determine whether the Gaelic or the Saxon race should be predominant in - Scotland. Donald, Lord of the Isles, who had at that period the power of - an independent sovereign, laid claim to the Earldom of Ross during the - Regency of Robert, Duke of Albany. To enforce his supposed right, he - ravaged the north with a large army of Highlanders and Islesmen. He was - encountered at Harlaw, in the Garioch, by Alexander, Earl of Mar, at the - head of the northern nobility and gentry of Saxon and Norman descent. The - battle was bloody and indecisive; but the invader was obliged to retire in - consequence of the loss he sustained, and afterwards was compelled to make - submission to the Regent, and renounce his pretensions to Ross; so that - all the advantages of the field were gained by the Saxons. The battle of - Harlaw was fought 24th July 1411. - </p> - <p> - Note I, p. #.—Elspeth's death. - </p> - <p> - The concluding circumstance of Elspeth's death is taken from an incident - said to have happened at the funeral of John, Duke of Roxburghe. All who - were acquainted with that accomplished nobleman must remember that he was - not more remarkable for creating and possessing a most curious and - splendid library, than for his acquaintance with the literary treasures it - contained. In arranging his books, fetching and replacing the volumes - which he wanted, and carrying on all the necessary intercourse which a man - of letters holds with his library, it was the Duke's custom to employ, not - a secretary or librarian, but a livery servant, called Archie, whom habit - had made so perfectly acquainted with the library, that he knew every - book, as a shepherd does the individuals of his flock, by what is called - head-mark, and could bring his master whatever volume he wanted, and - afford all the mechanical aid the Duke required in his literary - researches. To secure the attendance of Archie, there was a bell hung in - his room, which was used on no occasion except to call him individually to - the Duke's study. - </p> - <p> - His Grace died in Saint James's Square, London, in the year 1804; the body - was to be conveyed to Scotland, to lie in state at his mansion of Fleurs, - and to be removed from thence to the family burial-place at Bowden. - </p> - <p> - At this time, Archie, who had been long attacked by a liver-complaint, was - in the very last stage of that disease. Yet he prepared himself to - accompany the body of the master whom he had so long and so faithfully - waited upon. The medical persons assured him he could not survive the - journey. It signified nothing, he said, whether he died in England or - Scotland; he was resolved to assist in rendering the last honours to the - kind master from whom he had been inseparable for so many years, even if - he should expire in the attempt. The poor invalid was permitted to attend - the Duke's body to Scotland; but when they reached Fleurs he was totally - exhausted, and obliged to keep his bed, in a sort of stupor which - announced speedy dissolution. On the morning of the day fixed for removing - the dead body of the Duke to the place of burial, the private bell by - which he was wont to summon his attendant to his study was rung violently. - This might easily happen in the confusion of such a scene, although the - people of the neighbourhood prefer believing that the bell sounded of its - own accord. Ring, however, it did; and Archie, roused by the well-known - summons, rose up in his bed, and faltered, in broken accents, "Yes, my - Lord Duke—yes—I will wait on your Grace instantly;" and with - these words on his lips he is said to have fallen back and expired. - </p> - <p> - Note J, p. #.—Alarm of invasion. - </p> - <p> - The story of the false alarm at Fairport, and the consequences, are taken - from a real incident. Those who witnessed the state of Britain, and of - Scotland in particular, from the period that succeeded the war which - commenced in 1803 to the battle of Trafalgar, must recollect those times - with feelings which we can hardly hope to make the rising generation - comprehend. Almost every individual was enrolled either in a military or - civil capacity, for the purpose of contributing to resist the - long-suspended threats of invasion, which were echoed from every quarter. - Beacons were erected along the coast, and all through the country, to give - the signal for every one to repair to the post where his peculiar duty - called him, and men of every description fit to serve held themselves in - readiness on the shortest summons. During this agitating period, and on - the evening of the 2d February 1804, the person who kept watch on the - commanding station of Home Castle, being deceived by some accidental fire - in the county of Northumberland, which he took for the corresponding - signal-light in that county with which his orders were to communicate, - lighted up his own beacon. The signal was immediately repeated through all - the valleys on the English Border. If the beacon at Saint Abb's Head had - been fired, the alarm would have run northward, and roused all Scotland. - But the watch at this important point judiciously considered, that if - there had been an actual or threatened descent on our eastern sea-coast, - the alarm would have come along the coast and not from the interior of the - country. - </p> - <p> - Through the Border counties the alarm spread with rapidity, and on no - occasion when that country was the scene of perpetual and unceasing war, - was the summons to arms more readily obeyed. In Berwickshire, - Roxburghshire, and Selkirkshire, the volunteers and militia got under arms - with a degree of rapidity and alacrity which, considering the distance - individuals lived from each other, had something in it very surprising—they - poured to the alarm-posts on the sea-coast in a state so well armed and so - completely appointed, with baggage, provisions, etc., as was accounted by - the best military judges to render them fit for instant and effectual - service. - </p> - <p> - There were some particulars in the general alarm which are curious and - interesting. The men of Liddesdale, the most remote point to the westward - which the alarm reached, were so much afraid of being late in the field, - that they put in requisition all the horses they could find, and when they - had thus made a forced march out of their own country, they turned their - borrowed steeds loose to find their way back through the hills, and they - all got back safe to their own stables. Another remarkable circumstance - was, the general cry of the inhabitants of the smaller towns for arms, - that they might go along with their companions. The Selkirkshire Yeomanry - made a remarkable march, for although some of the individuals lived at - twenty and thirty miles' distance from the place where they mustered, they - were nevertheless embodied and in order in so short a period, that they - were at Dalkeith, which was their alarm-post, about one o'clock on the day - succeeding the first signal, with men and horses in good order, though the - roads were in a bad state, and many of the troopers must have ridden forty - or fifty miles without drawing bridle. Two members of the corps chanced to - be absent from their homes, and in Edinburgh on private business. The - lately married wife of one of these gentlemen, and the widowed mother of - the other, sent the arms, uniforms, and chargers of the two troopers, that - they might join their companions at Dalkeith. The author was very much - struck by the answer made to him by the last-mentioned lady, when he paid - her some compliment on the readiness which she showed in equipping her son - with the means of meeting danger, when she might have left him a fair - excuse for remaining absent. "Sir," she replied, with the spirit of a - Roman matron, "none can know better than you that my son is the only prop - by which, since his father's death, our family is supported. But I would - rather see him dead on that hearth, than hear that he had been a horse's - length behind his companions in the defence of his king and country." The - author mentions what was immediately under his own eye, and within his own - knowledge; but the spirit was universal, wherever the alarm reached, both - in Scotland and England. - </p> - <p> - The account of the ready patriotism displayed by the country on this - occasion, warmed the hearts of Scottishmen in every corner of the world. - It reached the ears of the well-known Dr. Leyden, whose enthusiastic love - of Scotland, and of his own district of Teviotdale, formed a distinguished - part of his character. The account which was read to him when on a - sick-bed, stated (very truly) that the different corps, on arriving at - their alarm-posts, announced themselves by their music playing the tunes - peculiar to their own districts, many of which have been gathering-signals - for centuries. It was particularly remembered, that the Liddesdale men, - before mentioned, entered Kelso playing the lively tune— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O wha dare meddle wi' me, - And wha dare meddle wi' me! - My name it is little Jock Elliot, - And wha dare meddle wi' me! -</pre> - <p> - The patient was so delighted with this display of ancient Border spirit, - that he sprung up in his bed, and began to sing the old song with such - vehemence of action and voice, that his attendants, ignorant of the cause - of excitation, concluded that the fever had taken possession of his brain; - and it was only the entry of another Borderer, Sir John Malcolm, and the - explanation which he was well qualified to give, that prevented them from - resorting to means of medical coercion. - </p> - <p> - The circumstances of this false alarm and its consequences may be now held - of too little importance even for a note upon a work of fiction; but, at - the period when it happened, it was hailed by the country as a propitious - omen, that the national force, to which much must naturally have been - trusted, had the spirit to look in the face the danger which they had - taken arms to repel; and every one was convinced, that on whichever side - God might bestow the victory, the invaders would meet with the most - determined opposition from the children of the soil. - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Antiquary, by Sir Walter Scott - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANTIQUARY *** - -***** This file should be named 7005-h.htm or 7005-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.net/7/0/0/7005/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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