Waverley

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> Waverley


'Wha hast thou brought here, thou unsonsy villain, thou?' said an old
woman, apparently in great indignation. He heard Davie Gellatley, in
answer, whistle a part of the tune by which he had recalled himself to
the simpleton's memory, and had now no hesitation to knock at the door.
There was a dead silence instantly within, except the deep growling of
the dogs; and he next heard the mistress of the hut approach the door,
not probably for the sake of undoing a latch, but of fastening a bolt.
To prevent this, Waverley lifted the latch himself.

In front was an old wretched-looking woman, exclaiming, 'Wha comes into
folk's houses in this gate, at this time o' the night?' On one side, two
grim and half-starved deer greyhounds laid aside their ferocity at
his appearance, and seemed to recognize him. On the other side, half
concealed by the open door, yet apparently seeking that concealment
reluctantly, with a cocked pistol in his right hand, and his left in the
act of drawing another from his belt, stood a tall bony gaunt figure in
the remnants of a faded uniform, and a beard of three weeks' growth.

It was the Baron of Bradwardine. It is unnecessary to add, that he threw
aside his weapon, and greeted Waverley with a hearty embrace.



CHAPTER LXIV

COMPARING OF NOTES

The Baron's story was short, when divested of the adages and
commonplaces, Latin, English, and Scotch, with which his erudition
garnished it. He insisted much upon his grief at the loss of Edward and
of Glennaquoich, fought the fields of Falkirk and Culloden, and related
how, after all was lost in the last battle, he had returned home, under
the idea of more easily finding shelter among his own tenants, and on
his own estate, than elsewhere. A party of soldiers had been sent to
lay waste his property, for clemency was not the order of the day. Their
proceedings, however, were checked by an order from the civil court.
The estate, it was found, might not be forfeited to the crown, to the
prejudice of Malcolm Bradwardine of Inch-Grabbit, the heir-male, whose
claim could not be prejudiced by the Baron's attainder, as deriving no
right through him, and who, therefore, like other heirs of entail in
the same situation, entered upon possession. But, unlike many in similar
circumstances, the new laird speedily showed that he intended utterly to
exclude his predecessor from all benefit or advantage in the estate, and
that it was his purpose to avail himself of the old Baron's evil fortune
to the full extent. This was the more ungenerous, as it was generally
known, that, from a romantic idea of not prejudicing this young man's
right as heir-male, the Baron had refrained from settling his estate on
his daughter.

This selfish injustice was resented by the country people, who were
partial to their old master, and irritated against his successor. In the
Baron's own words, 'The matter did not coincide with the feelings of
the commons of Bradwardine, Mr. Waverley; and the tenants were slack and
repugnant in payment of their mails and duties; and when my kinsman came
to the village wi' the new factor, Mr. James Howie, to lift the
rents, some wanchancy person--I suspect John Heatherblutter, the auld
gamekeeper, that was out wi' me in the year fifteen--fired a shot at
him in the gloaming, whereby he was so affrighted, that I may say with
Tullius in Catilinam, ABIIT, EVASIT, ERUPIT, EFFUGIT. He fled, sir, as
one may say, incontinent to Stirling. And now he hath advertised the
estate for sale, being himself the last substitute in the entail. And if
I were to lament about sic matters, this would grieve me mair than its
passing from my immediate possession, whilk, by the course of nature,
must have happened in a few years. Whereas now it passes from the
lineage that should have possessed it in SAECULA SAECULORUM. But God's
will be done, HUMANA PERPESSI SUMUS. Sir John of Bradwardine--Black Sir
John, as he is called--who was the common ancestor of our house and the
Inch-Grabbits, little thought such a person would have sprung from his
loins. Meantime, he has accused me to some of the primates, the rulers
for the time, as if I were a cut-throat, and an abettor of bravoes and
assassinates, and coupe-jarrets. And they have sent soldiers here to
abide on the estate, and hunt me like a partridge upon the mountains,
as Scripture says of good King David, or like our valiant Sir William
Wallace,--not that I bring myself into comparison with either.--I
thought, when I heard you at the door, they had driven the auld deer to
his den at last; and so I e'en proposed to die at bay, like a buck of
the first head.--But now, Janet, canna ye gie us something for supper?'

'Ou aye, sir, I'll brander the moor-fowl that John Heatherblutter
brought in this morning; and ye see puir Davie's roasting the black
hen's eggs.--I daur say, Mr. Wauverley, ye never kend that a' the eggs
that were sae weel roasted at supper in the Ha'-house were aye turned
by our Davie?--there's no the like o' him ony gate for powtering wi'
his fingers amang the het peat-ashes, and roasting eggs. Davie all this
while lay with his nose almost in the fire, nuzzling among the ashes,
kicking his heels, mumbling to himself, turning the eggs as they lay in
the hot embers, as if to confute the proverb, that 'there goes reason to
roasting of eggs,' and justify the eulogium which poor Janet poured out
upon

Him whom she loved, her idiot boy.

Davie's no sae silly as folk tak him for, Mr. Wauverley; he wadna
hae brought you here unless he had kend ye was a friend to his
Honour--indeed the very dogs kend ye, Mr. Wauverley, for ye was aye kind
to beast and body.--I can tell you a story o' Davie, wi' his Honour's
leave: His Honour, ye see, being under hiding in thae sair times--the
mair's the pity--he lies a' day, and whiles a' night, in the cove in the
dern hag; but though it 's a bieldy eneugh bit, and the auld gudeman o'
Corse-Cleugh has panged it wi' a kemple o' strae amaist, yet when the
country's quiet, and the night very cauld, his Honour whiles creeps doun
here to get a warm at the ingle, and a sleep amang the blankets, and
gangs awa in the morning. And so, ae morning, siccan a fright as I
got! Twa unlucky red-coats were up for black-fishing, or some siccan
ploy--for the neb o' them's never out o' mischief--and they just got a
glisk o' his Honour as he gaed into the wood, and banged aff a gun at
him, I out like a jer-falcon, and cried,--"Wad they shoot an honest
woman's poor innocent bairn?" And I fleyt at them, and threepit it was
my son; and they damned and swuir at me that it was the auld rebel, as
the villains ca'd his Honour; and Davie was in the wood, and heard the
tuilzie, and he, just out o' his ain head, got up the auld grey mantle
that his Honour had flung off him to gang the faster, and he cam out o'
the very same bit o' the wood, majoring and looking about sae like his
Honour, that they were clean beguiled, and thought they had letten aff
their gun at crack-brained Sawney, as they ca'd him; and they gae
me saxpence, and twa saumon fish, to say naething about it.--Na, na;
Davie's no just like other folk, puir fallow; but he's no sae silly as
folk tak him for.--But, to be sure, how can we do eneugh for his Honour,
when we and ours have lived on his ground this twa hundred years; and
when he keepit my puir Jamie at school and college, and even at the
Ha'-house, till he gaed to a better place; and when he saved me frae
being ta'en to Perth as a witch--lord forgi'e them that would touch
sic a puir silly auld body!--and has maintained puir Davie at heck and
manger maist feck o' his life?'

Waverley at length found an opportunity to interrupt Janet's narrative,
by an inquiry after Miss Bradwardine.

'She's weel and safe, thank God! at the Duchran,' answered the Baron.
'The laird's distantly related to us, and more nearly to my chaplain,
Mr. Rubrick; and, though he be of Whig principles, yet he's not
forgetful of auld friendship at this time. The Bailie's doing what he
can to save something out of the wreck for puir Rose; but I doubt, I
doubt, I shall never see her again, for I maun lay my banes in some far
country.'

'Hout na, your Honour,' said old Janet; 'ye were just as ill aff in the
feifteen, and got the bonnie baronie back, an' a'.--And now the eggs is
ready, and the muir-cock's brandered, and there's ilk ane a trencher and
some saut, and the heel o' the white loaf that cam frae the Bailie's;
and there's plenty o' brandy in the greybeard that Luckie Maclearie sent
doun; and winna ye be suppered like princes?'

'I wish one Prince, at least, of our acquaintance, may be no worse off,'
said the Baron to Waverley, who joined him in cordial hopes for the
safety of the unfortunate Chevalier.

They then began to talk of their future prospects. The Baron's plan was
very simple. It was, to escape to France, where, by the interest of his
old friends, he hoped to get some military employment, of which he
still conceived himself capable. He invited Waverley to go with him,
a proposal in which he acquiesced, providing the interest of Colonel
Talbot should fail in procuring his pardon. Tacitly he hoped the Baron
would sanction his addresses to Rose, and give him a right to assist him
in his exile; but he forbore to speak on this subject until his own fate
should be decided. They then talked of Glennaquoich, for whom the
Baron expressed great anxiety, although, he observed, he was 'the very
Achilles of Horatius Flaccus,--

Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer.

Which,' he continued, 'has been thus rendered (vernacularly) by Struan
Robertson:

A fiery etter-cap, a fractious chiel,
As het as ginger, and as stieve as steel.'

Flora had a large and unqualified share of the good old man's sympathy.

It was now wearing late. Old Janet got into some kind of kennel behind
the hallan. Davie had been long asleep and snoring between Ban and
Buscar. These dogs had followed him to the hut after the mansion-house
was deserted, and there constantly resided; and their ferocity, with the
old woman's reputation of being a witch, contributed a good deal to keep
visitors from the glen. With this view, Bailie Macwheeble provided Janet
underhand with meal for their maintenance, and also with little articles
of luxury for their patron's use, in supplying which much precaution was
necessarily used. After some compliments, the Baron occupied his usual
couch, and Waverley reclined in an easy-chair of tattered velvet, which
had once garnished the state bed-room of Tully-Veolan (for the furniture
of this mansion was now scattered through all the cottages in the
vicinity), and went to sleep as comfortably as if he had been in a bed
of down.



CHAPTER LXV

MORE EXPLANATION

With the first dawn of the day, old Janet was scuttling about the house
to wake the Baron, who usually slept sound and heavily.

'I must go back,' he said to Waverley, to my cove: will you walk down
the glen wi' me?'

They went out together, and followed a narrow and entangled footpath,
which the occasional passage of anglers, or wood-cutters, had traced by
the side of the stream. On their way, the Baron explained to Waverley,
that he would be under no danger in remaining a day or two at
Tully-Veolan, and even in being seen walking about, if he used the
precaution of pretending that he was looking at the estate as agent or
surveyor for an English gentleman, who designed to be purchaser. With
this view, he recommended to him to visit the Bailie, who still lived at
the factor's house, called Little Veolan, about a mile from the village,
though he was to remove at next term. Stanley's passport would be an
answer to the officer who commanded the military; and as to any of the
country people who might recognize Waverley the Baron assured him that
he was in no danger of being betrayed by them.

'I believe,' said the old man, 'half the people of the barony know that
their poor auld laird is somewhere hereabout; for I see they do not
suffer a single bairn to come here a bird-nesting--a practice whilk,
when I was in full possession of my power as baron, I was unable totally
to inhibit. Nay, I often find bits of things in my way, that the poor
bodies, God help them! leave there, because they think they may be
useful to me. I hope they will get a wiser master, and as kind a one as
I was.'

A natural sigh closed the sentence; but the quiet equanimity with which
the Baron endured his misfortunes, had something in it venerable, and
even sublime. There was no fruitless repining, no turbid melancholy; he
bore his lot, and the hardships which it involved, with a good-humoured,
though serious composure, and used no violent language against the
prevailing party.

'I did what I thought my duty,' said the good old man, 'and questionless
they are doing what they think theirs. It grieves me sometimes to look
upon these blackened walls of the house of my ancestors; but doubtless
officers cannot always keep the soldier's hand from depredation and
spuilzie; and Gustavus Adolphus himself, as ye may read in Colonel Munro
his Expedition with the worthy Scotch regiment called Mackay's regiment,
did often permit it.--Indeed I have myself seen as sad sights as
Tully-Veolan now is, when I served with the Mareschal Duke of Berwick.
To be sure, we may say with Virgilius Maro, FUIMUS TROES--and there's
the end of an auld sang. But houses and families and men have a' stood
lang eneugh when they have stood till they fall with honour; and now
I hae gotten a house that is not unlike a DOMUS ULTIMA'--they were now
standing below a steep rock. 'We poor Jacobites,' continued the Baron,
looking up, 'are now like the conies in Holy Scripture (which the great
traveller Pococke calleth Jerboa), a feeble people, that make our abode
in the rocks. So, fare you well, my good lad, till we meet at Janet's in
the even; for I must get into my Patmos, which is no easy matter for my
auld still limbs.'

With that he began to ascend the rock, striding, with the help of
his hands, from one precarious footstep to another, till he got about
half-way up, where two or three bushes concealed the mouth of a hole,
resembling an oven, into which the Baron insinuated, first his head and
shoulders, and then, by slow gradation, the rest of his long body; his
legs and feet finally disappearing, coiled up like a huge snake entering
his retreat, or a long pedigree introduced with care and difficulty into
the narrow pigeon-hole of an old cabinet. Waverley had the curiosity to
clamber up and look in upon him in his den, as the lurking-place might
well be termed. Upon the whole, he looked not unlike that ingenious
puzzle, called a reel in a bottle, the marvel of children (and of
some grown people too, myself for one), who can neither comprehend the
mystery how it was got in, or how it is to be taken out. The cave was
very narrow, too low in the roof to admit of his standing, or almost
of his sitting up, though he made some awkward attempts at the latter
posture. His sole amusement was the perusal of his old friend Titus
Livius, varied by occasionally scratching Latin proverbs and texts of
Scripture with his knife on the roof and walls of his fortalice, which
were of sandstone. As the cave was dry, and filled with clean straw and
withered fern, 'it made,' as he said, coiling himself up with an air
of snugness and comfort which contrasted strangely with his situation,
'unless when the wind was due north, a very passable GITE for an old
soldier.' Neither, as he observed, was he without sentries for the
purpose of reconnoitring. Davie and his mother were constantly on the
watch, to discover and avert danger; and it was singular what instances
of address seemed dictated by the instinctive attachment of the poor
simpleton, when his patron's safety was concerned.

With Janet, Edward now sought an interview. He had recognized her at
first sight as the old woman who had nursed him during his sickness
after his delivery from Gifted Gilfillan. The hut, also, though a little
repaired, and somewhat better furnished, was certainly the place of his
confinement; and he now recollected on the common moor of Tully-Veolan
the trunk of a large decayed tree, called the TRYSTING-TREE, which he
had no doubt was the same at which the Highlanders rendezvoused on that
memorable night. All this he had combined in his imagination the night
before; but reasons, which may probably occur to the reader, prevented
him from catechizing Janet in the presence of the Baron.

He now commenced the task in good earnest; and the first question was,
Who was the young lady that visited the hut during his illness? Janet
paused for a little; and then observed, that to keep the secret now,
would neither do good nor ill to anybody. 'It was just a leddy that
hasna her equal in the world--Miss Rose Bradwardine.'

'Then Miss Rose was probably also the author of my deliverance,'
inferred Waverley, delighted at the confirmation of an idea which local
circumstances had already induced him to entertain.

'I wot weel, Mr. Wauverley, and that was she e'en; but sair, sair angry
and affronted wad she hae been, puir thing, if she had thought ye had
been ever to ken a word about the matter; for she gar'd me speak aye
Gaelic when ye was in hearing, to mak ye trow we were in the Hielands. I
can speak it well eneugh, for my mother was a Hieland woman.'

A few more questions now brought out the whole mystery respecting
Waverley's deliverance from the bondage in which he left Cairnvreckan.
Never did music sound sweeter to an amateur, than the drowsy tautology,
with which old Janet detailed every circumstance, thrilled upon the
ears of Waverley. But my reader is not a lover, and I must spare his
patience, by attempting to condense within reasonable compass the
narrative which old Janet spread through a harangue of nearly two hours,

When Waverley communicated to Fergus the letter he had received from
Rose Bradwardine, by Davie Gellatley, giving an account of Tully-Veolan
being occupied by a small party of soldiers, that circumstance had
struck upon the busy and active mind of the Chieftain. Eager to
distress and narrow the posts of the enemy, desirous to prevent their
establishing a garrison so near him, and willing also to oblige the
Baron,--for he often had the idea of marriage with Rose floating through
his brain,--he resolved to send some of his people to drive out the
red-coats, and to bring Rose to Glennaquoich. But just as he had ordered
Evan with a small party on this duty, the news of Cope's having marched
into the Highlands to meet and disperse the forces of the Chevalier,
ere they came to a head, obliged him to join the standard with his whole
forces.

He sent to order Donald Bean to attend him; but that cautious
freebooter, who well understood the value of a separate command, instead
of joining, sent various apologies which the pressure of the times
compelled Fergus to admit as current, though not without the internal
resolution of being revenged on him for his procrastination, time and
place convenient. However, as he could not amend the matter, he issued
orders to Donald to descend into the Low Country, drive the soldiers
from Tully-Veolan, and, paying all respect to the mansion of the Baron,
to take his abode somewhere near it, for protection of his daughter and
family, and to harass and drive away any of the armed volunteers,
or small parties of military, which he might find moving about the
vicinity.

As this charge formed a sort of roving commission, which Donald proposed
to interpret in the way most advantageous to himself, as he was relieved
from the immediate terrors of Fergus, and as he had, from former secret
services, some interest in the councils of the Chevalier, he resolved to
make hay while the sun shone. He achieved, without difficulty, the
task of driving the soldiers from Tully-Veolan; but although he did not
venture to encroach upon the interior of the family, or to disturb
Miss Rose, being unwilling to make himself a powerful enemy in the
Chevalier's army,

For well he knew the Baron's wrath was deadly;

yet he set about to raise contributions and exactions upon the tenantry,
and otherwise to turn the war to his own advantage. Meanwhile he mounted
the white cockade, and waited upon Rose with a pretext of great devotion
for the service in which her father was engaged, and many apologies for
the freedom he must necessarily use for the support of his people. It
was at this moment that Rose learned, by open-mouthed fame, with
all sorts of exaggeration, that Waverley had killed the smith of
Cairnvreckan, in an attempt to arrest him; had been cast into a dungeon
by Major Melville of Cairnvreckan, and was to be executed by martial
law within three days. In the agony which these tidings excited, she
proposed to Donald Bean the rescue of the prisoner. It was the very
sort of service which he was desirous to undertake, judging it might
constitute a merit of such a nature as would make amends for any
peccadilloes which he might be guilty of in the country. He had the art,
however, pleading all the while duty and discipline, to hold off, until
poor Rose, in the extremity of her distress, offered to bribe him to the
enterprise with some valuable jewels which had been her mother's.

Donald Bean, who had served in France, knew, and perhaps over-estimated,
the value of these trinkets. But he also perceived Rose's apprehensions
of its being discovered that she had parted with her jewels for
Waverley's liberation. Resolved this scruple should not part him and
the treasure, he voluntarily offered to take an oath that he would never
mention Miss Rose's share in the transaction; and foreseeing convenience
in keeping the oath, and no probable advantage in breaking it, he took
the engagement--in order, as he told his lieutenant, to deal handsomely
by the young lady--in the only form and mode which, by a mental paction
with himself, he considered as binding--he swore secrecy upon his drawn
dirk. He was the more especially moved to this act of good faith by some
attentions that Miss Bradwardine showed to his daughter Alice, which,
while they gained the heart of the mountain damsel, highly gratified the
pride of her father. Alice, who could now speak a little English, was
very communicative in return for Rose's kindness, readily confided to
her the whole papers respecting the intrigue with Gardiner's regiment,
of which she was the depositary, and as readily undertook, at her
instance, to restore them to Waverley without her father's knowledge.
'For they may oblige the bonnie young lady and the handsome young
gentleman,' said Alice, 'and what use has my father for a whin bits o'
scarted paper?'

The reader is aware that she took an opportunity of executing this
purpose on the eve of Waverley's leaving the glen.

How Donald executed his enterprise, the reader is aware. But the
expulsion of the military from Tully-Veolan had given alarm, and, while
he was lying in wait for Gilfillan, a strong party, such as Donald did
not care to face, was sent to drive back the insurgents in their turn,
to encamp there, and to protect the country. The officer, a gentleman
and a disciplinarian, neither intruded himself on Miss Bradwardine,
whose unprotected situation he respected, nor permitted his soldiers
to commit any breach of discipline. He formed a little camp, upon an
eminence near the house of Tully-Veolan, and placed proper guards at the
passes in the vicinity. This unwelcome news reached Donald Bean Lean
as he was returning to Tully-Veolan. Determined, however, to obtain the
guerdon of his labour, he resolved, since approach to Tully-Veolan was
impossible; to deposit his prisoner in Janet's cottage--a place the very
existence of which could hardly have been suspected even by those who
had long lived In the vicinity, unless they had been guided thither, and
which was utterly unknown to Waverley himself. This effected, he claimed
and received his reward. Waverley's illness was an event which deranged
all their calculations. Donald was obliged to leave the neighbourhood
with his people, and to seek more free course for his adventures
elsewhere. At Rose's earnest entreaty, he left an old man, a herbalist,
who was supposed to understand a little of medicine, to attend Waverley
during his illness.

In the meanwhile, new and fearful doubts started in Rose's mind. They
were suggested by old Janet, who insisted, that a reward having been
offered for the apprehension of Waverley, and his own personal effects
being so valuable, there was no saying to what breach of faith Donald
might be tempted. In an agony of grief and terror, Rose took the daring
resolution of explaining to the Prince himself the danger in which Mr.
Waverley stood, judging that, both as a politician, and a man of honour
and humanity, Charles Edward would interest himself to prevent his
falling into the hands of the opposite party. This letter she at first
thought of sending anonymously, but naturally feared it would not, in
that case, be credited. She therefore subscribed her name, though with
reluctance and terror, and consigned it in charge to a young man, who,
at leaving his farm to join the Chevalier's army, made it his petition
to her to have some sort of credentials to the Adventurer, from whom he
hoped to obtain a commission.