Waverley

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> Waverley


'And what may ya be, friend?' said the Gifted Gilfillan.

'A puir pedler, that's bound for Stirling, and craves the protection of
your honour's party in these kittle times. Ah! your honour has a notable
faculty in searching and explaining the secret,--aye, the secret and
obscure and incomprehensible causes of the backslidings of the land;
aye, your honour touches the root o' the matter.'

'Friend,' said Gilfillan, with a more complacent voice than he had
hitherto used, 'honour not me. I do not go out to park-dikes, and to
steadings, and to market-towns, to have herds and cottars and
burghers pull off their bonnets to me as they do to Major Melville o'
Cairnvreckan, and ca' me laird, or captain, or honour;--no; my sma'
means, whilk are not aboon twenty thousand merk, have had the blessing
of increase, but the pride of heart has not increased with them; nor do
I delight to be called captain, though I have the subscribed commission
of that gospel-searching nobleman, the Earl of Glencairn, in whilk I am
so designated. While I live, I am and will be called Habakkuk Gilfillan,
who will stand up for the standards of doctrine agreed on by the
ance-famous Kirk of Scotland, before she trafficked with the accursed
Achan, while he has a plack in his purse, or a drap o' bluid in his
body.'

'Ah,' said the pedlar, 'I have seen your land about Mauchlin--a fertile
spot! your lines have fallen in pleasant places!--And siccan a breed o'
cattle is not in ony laird's land in Scotland.'

'Ye say right,--ye say right, friend,' retorted Gilfillan eagerly, for
he was not inaccessible to flattery upon this subject,--'ye say right;
they are the real Lancashire, and there's no the like o' them even at
the Mains of Kilmaurs;' and he then entered into a discussion of their
excellences, to which our readers will probably be as indifferent as
our hero. After this excursion, the leader returned to his theological
discussions, while the pedlar, less profound upon those mystic points,
contented himself with groaning, and expressing his edification at
suitable intervals.

'What a blessing it would be to the puir blinded popish nations among
whom I hae sojourned, to have siccan a light to their paths! I hae been
as far as Muscovia in my sma' trading way, as a travelling merchant;
and I hae been through France, and the Low Countries, and a' Poland, and
maist feck o' Germany; and oh! it would grieve your honour's soul to see
the murmuring, and the singing, and massing, that's in the kirk, and the
piping that's in the quire, and the heathenish dancing and dicing upon
the Sabbath!'

This set Gilfillan off upon the Book of Sports and the Covenant, and
the Engagers, and the Protesters, and the Whiggamore's Raid, and
the Assembly of Divines at Westminster, and the Longer and Shorter
Catechism, and the Excommunication at Torwood, and the slaughter of
Archbishop Sharp. This last topic, again, led him into the lawfulness of
defensive arms, on which subject he uttered much more sense than could
have been expected from some other parts of his harangue, and attracted
even Waverley's attention, who had hitherto been lost in his own sad
reflections. Mr. Gilfillan then considered the lawfulness of a private
man's standing forth as the avenger of public oppression, and as he was
labouring with great earnestness the cause of Mas James Mitchell, who
fired at the Archbishop of St. Andrews some years before the prelate's
assassination on Magus Muir, an incident occurred which interrupted his
harangue.

The rays of the sun were lingering on the very verge of the horizon, as
the party ascended a hollow and somewhat steep path, which led to the
summit of a rising ground. The country was unenclosed, being part of a
very extensive heath or common; but it was far from level, exhibiting
in many places hollows filled with furze and broom; in others little
dingles of stunted brushwood. A thicket of the latter description
crowned the hill up which the party ascended. The foremost of the band,
being the stoutest and most active, had pushed on, and having surmounted
the ascent, were out of ken for the present. Gilfillan, with the pedlar,
and the small party who were Waverley's more immediate guard, were
near the top of the ascent, and the remainder straggled after them at a
considerable interval.

Such was the situation of matters, when the pedlar, missing, as he said,
a little doggie which belonged to him, began to halt and whistle for the
animal. This signal, repeated more than once, gave offence to the rigour
of his companion, the rather because it appeared to indicate inattention
to the treasures of theological and controversial knowledge which was
pouring out for his edification. He therefore signified gruffly, that he
could not waste his time in waiting for a useless cur.

'But if your honour wad consider the case of Tobit'--

'Tobit!' exclaimed Gilfillan, with great heat; 'Tobit and his dog baith
are altogether heathenish and apocryphal, and none but a prelatist or
a papist would draw them into question. I doubt I hae been mista'en in
you, friend.'

'Very likely,' answered the pedlar, with great composure; 'but
ne'ertheless, I shall take leave to whistle again upon puir Bawty,'

This last signal was answered in an unexpected manner; for six or eight
stout Highlanders, who lurked among the copse and brushwood, sprang
into the hollow way, and began to lay about them with their claymores.
Gilfillan, un-appalled at this undesirable apparition, cried out
manfully, 'The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!' and, drawing his
broadsword, would probably have done as much credit to the good old
cause as any of its doughty champions at Drumclog, when, behold! the
pedlar, snatching a musket from the person who was next him, bestowed
the butt of it with such emphasis on the head of his late instructor in
the Cameronian creed, that he was forthwith levelled to the ground. In
the confusion which ensued, the horse which bore our hero was shot
by one of Gilfillan's party, as he discharged his firelock at random.
Waverley fell with, and indeed under, the animal, and sustained some
severe contusions. But he was almost instantly extricated from the
fallen steed by two Highlanders, who, each seizing him by the arm,
hurried him away from the scuffle and from the high-road. They ran with
great speed, half supporting and half dragging our hero, who could,
however, distinguish a few dropping shots fired about the spat which
he had left. This, as he afterwards learned, proceeded from Gilfillan's
party, who had now assembled, the stragglers in front and rear having
joined the others. At their approach the Highlanders drew off, but not
before they had rifled Gilfillan and two of his people, who remained on
the spot grievously wounded. A few shots were exchanged betwixt them
and the Westlanders; but the latter, now without a commander, and
apprehensive of a second ambush, did not make any serious effort to
recover their prisoner, judging it more wise to proceed on their journey
to Stirling, carrying with them their wounded captain and comrades.



CHAPTER XXXVII

WAVERLEY IS STILL IN DISTRESS

The velocity, and indeed violence, with which Waverley was hurried
along, nearly deprived him of sensation; for the injury he had received
from his fall prevented him from aiding himself so effectually as he
might otherwise have done. When this was observed by his conductors,
they called to their aid two or three others of the party, and swathing
our hero's body in one of their plaids, divided his weight by that
means among them, and transported him at the same rapid rate as before,
without any exertion of his own. They spoke little, and that in Gaelic;
and did not slacken their pace till they had run nearly two miles, when
they abated their extreme rapidity, but continued still to walk very
fast, relieving each other occasionally,

Our hero now endeavoured to address them, but was only answered with
'CHA N'EIL BEURL' AGAM,' i.e. 'I have no English,' being, as Waverley
well knew, the constant reply of a Highlander, when he either does not
understand, or does not choose to reply to, an Englishman or Lowlander.
He then mentioned the name of Vich Ian Vohr, concluding that he was
indebted to his friendship for his rescue from the clutches of Gifted
Gilfillan; but neither did this produce any mark of recognition from his
escort.

The twilight had given place to moonshine when the party halted upon
the brink of a precipitous glen, which, as partly enlightened by the
moonbeams, seemed full of trees and tangled brushwood. Two of the
Highlanders dived into it by a small footpath, as if to explore its
recesses, and one of them returning in a few minutes, said something to
his companions, who instantly raised their burden, and bore him,
with great attention and care, down the narrow and abrupt descent.
Notwithstanding their precautions, however, Waverley's person came more
than once into contact, rudely enough, with the projecting stumps and
branches which overhung the pathway.

At the bottom of the descent, and, as it seemed, by the side of a
brook (for Waverley heard the rushing of a considerable body of water,
although its stream was invisible in the darkness), the party again
stopped before a small and rudely-constructed hovel. The door was open,
and the inside of the premises appeared as uncomfortable and rude as its
situation and exterior foreboded. There was no appearance of a floor
of any kind; the roof seemed rent in several places; the walls were
composed of loose stones and turf, and the thatch of branches of trees.
The fire was in the centre, and filled the whole wigwam with smoke,
which escaped as much through the door as by means of a circular
aperture in the roof. An old Highland sibyl, the only inhabitant of this
forlorn mansion, appeared busy in the preparation of some food. By
the light which the fire afforded, Waverley could discover that his
attendants were not of the clan of Ivor, for Fergus was particularly
strict in requiring from his followers that they should wear the tartan
striped in the mode peculiar to their race; a mark of distinction
anciently general through the Highlands, and still maintained by those
chiefs who were proud of their lineage, or jealous of their separate and
exclusive authority.

Edward had lived at Glennaquoich long enough to be aware of a
distinction which he had repeatedly heard noticed; and now satisfied
that he had no interest with his attendants, he glanced a disconsolate
eye around the interior of the cabin. The only furniture, excepting a
washing-tub, and a wooden press, called in Scotland an AMBRY, sorely
decayed, was a large wooden bed, planked, as is usual, all around, and
opening by a sliding panel. In this recess the Highlanders deposited
Waverley, after he had by signs declined any refreshment. His slumbers
were broken and unrefreshing; strange visions passed before his eyes,
and it required constant and reiterated efforts of mind to dispel them.
Shivering, violent headache, and shooting pains in his limbs, succeeded
these symptoms; and in the morning it was evident to his Highland
attendants or guard, for he knew not in which light to consider them,
that Waverley was quite unfit to travel. After a long consultation
among themselves, six of the party left the hut with their arms, leaving
behind an old and a young man. The former addressed Waverley, and bathed
the contusions, which swelling and livid colour now made conspicuous.
His own portmanteau, which the Highlanders had not failed to bring off,
supplied him with linen, and, to his great surprise, was, with all its
undiminished contents, freely resigned to his use. The bedding of his
couch seemed clean and comfortable, and his aged attendant closed the
door of the bed, for it had no curtain, after a few words of Gaelic,
from which Waverley gathered that he exhorted him to repose. So behold
our hero for a second time the patient of a Highland Aesculapius, but
in a situation much more uncomfortable than when he was the guest of the
worthy Tomanrait.

The symptomatic fever which accompanied the injuries he had sustained
did not abate till the third day, when it gave way to the care of his
attendants and the strength of his constitution, and he could now raise
himself in his bed, though not without pain. He observed, however, that
there was a great disinclination, on the part of the old woman who acted
as his nurse, as well as on that of the elderly Highlander, to permit
the door of the bed to be left open, so that he might amuse himself with
observing their motions; and at length, after Waverley had repeatedly
drawn open, and they had as frequently shut, the hatchway of his cage,
the old gentleman put an end to the contest, by securing it on the
outside with a nail, so effectually that the door could not be drawn
till this exterior impediment was removed.

While musing upon the cause of this contradictory spirit in persons
whose conduct intimated no purpose of plunder, and who, in all other
points, appeared to consult his welfare and his wishes, it occurred to
our hero, that, during the worst crisis of his illness, a female figure,
younger than his old Highland nurse, had appeared to flit around his
couch. Of this, indeed, he had but a very indistinct recollection, but
his suspicions were confirmed when, attentively listening, he often
heard, in the course of the day, the voice of another female conversing
in whispers with his attendant. Who could it be? And why should she
apparently desire concealment? Fancy immediately roused herself, and
turned to Flora Mac-Ivor. But after a short conflict between his eager
desire to believe she was in his neighbourhood, guarding, like an angel
of mercy, the couch of his sickness, Waverley was compelled to conclude
that his conjecture was altogether improbable; since, to suppose she had
left the comparatively safe situation at Glennaquoich to descend into
the Low Country, now the seat of civil war, and to inhabit such a
lurking-place as this, was a thing hardly to be imagined. Yet his heart
bounded as he sometimes could distinctly hear the trip of a light female
step glide to or from the door of the hut, or the suppressed sounds of
a female voice, of softness and delicacy, hold dialogue with the hoarse
inward croak of old Janet, for so he understood his antiquated attendant
was denominated.

Having nothing else to amuse his solitude, he employed himself in
contriving some plan to gratify his curiosity, in spite of the sedulous
caution of Janet and the old Highland janizary, for he had never seen
the young fellow since the first morning. At length, upon accurate
examination, the infirm state of his wooden prison-house appeared to
supply the means of gratifying his curiosity, for out of a spot which
was somewhat decayed he was able to extract a nail. Through this minute
aperture he could perceive a female form, wrapped in a plaid, in the act
of conversing with Janet. But, since the days of our grandmother Eve,
the gratification of inordinate curiosity has generally borne its
penalty in disappointment. The form was not that of Flora, nor was the
face visible; and, to crown his vexation, while he laboured with the
nail to enlarge the hole, that he might obtain a more complete view,
a slight noise betrayed his purpose, and the object of his curiosity
instantly disappeared; nor, so far as he could observe, did she again
revisit the cottage.

All precautions to blockade his view were from that time abandoned, and
he was not only permitted, but assisted to rise and quit what had been,
in a literal sense, his couch of confinement. But he was not allowed to
leave the hut; for the young Highlander had now rejoined his senior, and
one or other was constantly on the watch. Whenever Waverley approached
the cottage door, the sentinel upon duty civilly, but resolutely, placed
himself against it and opposed his exit, accompanying his action with
signs which seemed to imply there was danger in the attempt, and an
enemy in the neighbourhood. Old Janet appeared anxious and upon the
watch; and Waverley, who had not yet recovered strength enough to
attempt to take his departure in spite of the opposition of his hosts,
was under the necessity of remaining patient. His fare was, in every
point of view, better than he could have conceived; for poultry,
and even wine, were no strangers to his table. The Highlanders never
presumed to eat with him, and unless in the circumstance of watching
him, treated him with great respect. His sole amusement was gazing from
the window, or rather the shapeless aperture which was meant to answer
the purpose of a window, upon large and rough brook, which raged and
foamed through a rocky channel, closely canopied with trees and bushes,
about ten feet beneath the site of his house of captivity.

Upon the sixth day of his confinement, Waverley found himself so well,
that he began to meditate his escape from this dull and miserable
prison-house, thinking any risk which he might incur in the attempt
preferable to the stupefying and intolerable uniformity of Janet's
retirement. The question indeed occurred, whither he was to direct his
course when again at his own disposal. Two schemes seemed practicable,
yet both attended with danger and difficulty. One was to go back to
Glennaquoich, and join Fergus Mac-Ivor, by whom he was sure to be kindly
received; and in the present state of his mind, the rigour with which
he had been treated fully absolved him, in his own eyes, from his
allegiance to the existing government. The other project was to
endeavour to attain a Scottish seaport, and thence to take shipping for
England. His mind wavered between these plans; and probably, if he
had effected his escape in the manner he proposed, he would have been
finally determined by the comparative facility by which either might
have been executed. But his fortune had settled that he was not to be
left to his option.

Upon the evening of the seventh day the door of the hut suddenly opened,
and two Highlanders entered, whom Waverley recognized as having been a
part of his original escort to this cottage. They conversed for a
short time with the old man and his companion, and then made Waverley
understand, by very significant signs, that he was to prepare to
accompany them. This was a joyful communication. What had already passed
during his confinement made it evident that no personal injury was
designed to him; and his romantic spirit, having recovered during
his repose much of that elasticity which anxiety, resentment,
disappointment, and the mixture of unpleasant feelings excited by
his late adventures, had for a time subjugated, was now wearied with
inaction. His passion for the wonderful, although it is the nature of
such dispositions to be excited, by that degree of danger which merely
gives dignity to the feeling of the individual exposed to it, had sunk
under the extraordinary and apparently, insurmountable evils by which
he appeared environed at Cairnvreckan. In fact, this compound of intense
curiosity and exalted imagination forms a peculiar species of
courage, which somewhat resembles the light usually carried by a
miner,--sufficiently competent, indeed, to afford him guidance and
comfort during the ordinary perils of his labour, but certain to
be extinguished should he encounter the more formidable hazard of
earth-damps or pestiferous vapours. It was now, however, once more
rekindled, and with a throbbing mixture of hope, awe, and anxiety,
Waverley watched the group before him, as those who had just arrived
snatched a hasty meal, and the others assumed their arms, and made brief
preparations for their departure.

As he sat in the smoky hut, at some distance from the fire, around which
the others were crowded, he felt a gentle pressure upon his arm. He
looked round--it was Alice, the daughter of Donald Bean Lean. She showed
him a packet of papers in such a manner that the motion was remarked by
no one else, put her finger for a second to her lips, and passed on, as
if to assist old Janet in packing Waverley's clothes in his portmanteau.
It was obviously her wish that he should not seem to recognize her; yet
she repeatedly looked back at him, as an opportunity occurred of doing
so unobserved, and when she saw that he remarked what she did, she
folded the packet with great address and speed in one of his shirts,
which she deposited in the portmanteau.

Here then was fresh food for conjecture. Was Alice his unknown warden,
and was this maiden of the cavern the tutelar genius that watched his
bed during his sickness? Was he in the hands of her father? and if
so, what was his purpose? Spoil, his usual object, seemed in this case
neglected; for not only Waverley's property was restored, but his purse,
which might have tempted this professional plunderer, had been all along
suffered to remain in his possession. All this perhaps the packet might
explain; but it was plain from Alice's manner that she desired he should
consult it in secret. Nor did she again seek his eye after she had
satisfied herself that her manoeuvre was observed and understood. On the
contrary, she shortly afterwards left the hut, and it was only as she
tripped out from the door, that, favoured by the obscurity, she gave
Waverley a parting smile and nod of significance, ere she vanished in
the dark glen.

The young Highlander was repeatedly dispatched by his comrades as if to
collect intelligence. At length when he had returned for the third
or fourth time, the whole party arose, and made signs to our hero to
accompany them. Before his departure, however, he shook hands with old
Janet, who had been so sedulous in his behalf, and added substantial
marks of his gratitude for her attendance.

'God bless you! God prosper you, Captain Waverley!' said Janet, in good
Lowland Scotch, though he had never hitherto heard her utter a syllable,
save in Gaelic. But the impatience of his attendants prohibited his
asking any explanation.



CHAPTER XXXVIII

A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE

There was a moment's pause when the whole party had got out of the
hut; and the Highlander who assumed the command, and who, in Waverley's
awakened recollection, seemed to be the same tall figure who had acted
as Donald Bean Lean's lieutenant, by whispers and signs imposed the
strictest silence. He delivered to Edward a sword and steel pistol, and,
pointing up the tract, laid his hand on the hilt of his own claymore,
as if to make him sensible they might have occasion to use force to make
good their passage. He then placed himself at the head of the party,
who moved up the pathway in single or Indian file, Waverley being placed
nearest to their leader. He moved with great precaution, as if to avoid
giving any alarm, and halted as soon as he came to the verge of the
ascent. Waverley was soon sensible of the reason, for he heard at no
great distance an English sentinel call out 'All's well.' The heavy
sound sank on the night-wind down the woody glen, and was answered by
the echoes of its banks. A second, third, and fourth time, the signal
was repeated, fainter and fainter, as if at a greater and greater
distance. It was obvious that a party of soldiers were near, and upon
their guard, though not sufficiently so to detect men skilful in every
art of predatory warfare, like those with whom he now watched their
ineffectual precautions.

When these sounds had died upon the silence of the night, the
Highlanders began their march swiftly, yet with the most cautious
silence. Waverley had little time, or indeed disposition, for
observation, and could only discern that; they passed at some distance
from a large building, in the windows of which a light or two yet seemed
to twinkle. A little farther on, the leading Highlander snuffed the wind
like a setting spaniel, and then made a signal to his party again to
halt. He stooped down upon all-fours, wrapped up in his plaid, so as to
be scarce distinguishable from the heathy ground on which he moved, and
advanced in this posture to reconnoitre. In a short time he returned,
and dismissed his attendants excepting one; and, intimating to Waverley
that he must imitate his cautious mode of proceeding, all three crept
forward on hands and knees.

After proceeding a greater way in this inconvenient manner than was at
all comfortable to his knees and shins, Waverley perceived the smell
of smoke, which probably had been much sooner distinguished by the more
acute nasal organs of his guide. It proceeded from the corner of a low
and ruinous sheepfold, the walls of which were made of loose stones,
as is usual in Scotland. Close by this low wall the Highlander guided
Waverley, and, in order probably to make him sensible of his danger, or
perhaps to obtain the full credit of his own dexterity, he intimated
to him, by sign and example, that he might raise his head so as to peep
into the sheepfold. Waverley did so, and beheld an outpost of four or
five soldiers lying by their watch-fire. They were all asleep, except
the sentinel, who paced backwards and forwards with his firelock on his
shoulder, which glanced red in the light of the fire as he crossed and
recrossed before it in his short walk, casting his eye frequently to
that part of the heavens from which the moon, hitherto obscured by mist,
seemed now about to make her appearance,