Waverley

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The letter reached Charles Edward on his descent to the Lowlands, and,
aware of the political importance of having it supposed that he was in
correspondence with the English Jacobites, he caused the most positive
orders to be transmitted to Donald Bean Lean, to transmit Waverley, safe
and uninjured in person or effects, to the governor of Doune Castle. The
freebooter durst not disobey, for the army of the Prince was now so near
him that punishment might have followed; besides, he was a politician
as well as a robber, and was unwilling to cancel the interest created
through former secret services, by being refractory on this occasion.
He therefore made a virtue of necessity, and transmitted orders to his
lieutenant to convey Edward to Doune, which was safely accomplished
in the mode mentioned in a former chapter. The governor of Doune was
directed to send him to Edinburgh as a prisoner, because the Prince was
apprehensive that Waverley, if set at liberty, might have resumed his
purpose of returning to England, without affording him an opportunity
of a personal interview. In this, indeed, he acted by the advice of the
Chieftain of Glennaquoich, with whom it may be remembered the Chevalier
communicated upon the mode of disposing of Edward, though without
telling him how he came to learn the place of his confinement.

This, indeed, Charles Edward considered as a lady's secret; for although
Rose's letter was couched in the most cautious and general terms, and
professed to be written merely from motives of humanity, and zeal for
the Prince's service, yet she expressed so anxious a wish that she
should not be known to have interfered, that the Chevalier was induced
to suspect the deep interest which she took in Waverley's safety. This
conjecture, which was well founded, led, however, to false inferences.
For the emotion which Edward displayed on approaching Flora and Rose at
the ball of Holyrood, was placed by the Chevalier to the account of the
latter, and he concluded that the Baron's views about the settlement of
his property, or some such obstacle, thwarted their mutual inclinations.
Common fame, it is true, frequently gave Waverley to Miss Mac-Ivor; but
the Prince knew that common fame is very prodigal in such gifts; and,
watching attentively the behaviour of the ladies towards Waverley, he
had no doubt that the young Englishman had no interest with Flora,
and was beloved by Rose Bradwardine. Desirous to bind Waverley to his
service, and wishing also to do a kind and friendly action, the Prince
next assailed the Baron on the subject of settling his estate upon his
daughter. Mr. Bradwardine acquiesced; but the consequence was, that
Fergus was immediately induced to prefer his double suit for a wife and
an earldom, which the Prince rejected in the manner we have seen. The
Chevalier, constantly engaged in his own multiplied affairs, had not
hitherto sought any explanation with Waverley, though often meaning to
do so. But after Fergus's declaration, he saw the necessity of appearing
neutral between the rivals, devoutly hoping that the matter, which now
seemed fraught with the seeds of strife, might be permitted to lie over
till the termination of the expedition. When on the march to Derby,
Fergus, being questioned concerning his quarrel with Waverley, alleged
as the cause, that Edward was desirous of retracting the suit he made to
his sister, the Chevalier plainly told him, that he had himself observed
Miss Mac-Ivor's behaviour to Waverley, and that he was convinced Fergus
was under the influence of a mistake in judging of Waverley's conduct,
who, he had every reason to believe, was engaged to Miss Bradwardine.
The quarrel which ensued between Edward and the chieftain is, I hope,
still in the remembrance of the reader. These circumstances will serve
to explain such points of our narrative as, according to the custom of
story-tellers, we deemed it fit to leave unexplained, for the purpose of
exciting the reader's curiosity.

When Janet had once finished the leading facts of this narrative,
Waverley was easily enabled to apply the clue which they afforded,
to other mazes of the labyrinth in which he had been engaged. To Rose
Bradwardine, then, he owed the life which he now thought he could
willingly have laid down to serve her. A little reflection convinced
him, however, that to live for her sake was more convenient and
agreeable, and that, being possessed of independence, she might share
it with him either in foreign countries or in his own. The pleasure of
being allied to a man of the Baron's high worth, and who was so much
valued by his uncle Sir Everard, was also an agreeable consideration,
had anything been wanting to recommend the match. His absurdities, which
had appeared grotesquely ludicrous during his prosperity, seemed, in the
sunset of his fortune, to be harmonized and assimilated with the noble
features of his character, so as to add peculiarity without exciting
ridicule. His mind occupied with such projects of future happiness,
Edward sought Little Veolan, the habitation of Mr. Duncan Macwheeble.



CHAPTER LXVI

Now is Cupid like a child of conscience--he makes
restitution.--SHAKESPEARE.

Mr. Duncan Macwheeble, no longer Commissary or Bailie, though still
enjoying the empty name of the latter dignity, had escaped
proscription by an early secession from the insurgent party and by his
insignificance.

Edward found him in his office, immersed among papers and accounts.
Before him was a large bicker of oatmeal-porridge, and at the side
thereof, a horn-spoon and a bottle of two-penny. Eagerly running his eye
over a voluminous law-paper, he from time to time shovelled an
immense spoonful of these nutritive viands into his capacious mouth. A
pot-bellied Dutch bottle of brandy which stood by, intimated either that
this honest limb of the law had taken his morning already, or that
he meant to season his porridge with such digestive; or perhaps
both circumstances might reasonably be inferred. His night-cap and
morning-gown had whilome been of tartan, but, equally cautious and
frugal, the honest Bailie had got them dyed black, lest their original
ill-omened colour might remind his visitors of his unlucky excursion to
Derby. To sum up the picture, his face was daubed with snuff up to the
eyes, and his fingers with ink up to the knuckles. He looked dubiously
at Waverley as he approached the little green rail which fenced his desk
and stool from the approach of the vulgar. Nothing could give the Bailie
more annoyance than the idea of his acquaintance being claimed by any
of the unfortunate gentlemen who were now so much more likely to
need assistance than to afford profit. But this was the rich young
Englishman--who knew what might be his situation?--he was the Baron's
friend too--what was to be done?

While these reflections gave an air of absurd perplexity to the poor
man's visage, Waverley, reflecting on the communication he was about to
make to him, of a nature so ridiculously contrasted with the appearance
of the individual, could not help bursting out a-laughing, as he checked
the propensity to exclaim with Syphax--

Cato's a proper person to entrust
A love-tale with.

As Mr. Macwheeble had no idea of any person laughing heartily who was
either encircled by peril or oppressed by poverty, the hilarity of
Edward's countenance greatly relieved the embarrassment of his own, and,
giving him a tolerably hearty welcome to Little Veolan, he asked what
he would choose for breakfast. His visitor had, in the first place,
something for his private ear, and begged leave to bolt the door.
Duncan by no means liked this precaution, which savoured of danger to be
apprehended; but he could not now draw back.

Convinced he might trust this man, as he could make it his interest
to be faithful, Edward communicated his present situation and future
schemes to Macwheeble. The wily agent listened with apprehension when
he found Waverley was still in a state of proscription--was somewhat
comforted by learning that he had a passport--rubbed his hands with glee
when he mentioned the amount of his present fortune--opened huge eyes
when he heard the brilliancy of his future expectations; but when
he expressed his intention to share them with Miss Rose Bradwardine,
ecstasy had almost deprived the honest man of his senses. The Bailie
started from his three-footed stool like the Pythoness from her tripod;
flung his best wig out of the window, because the block on which it was
placed stood in the way of his career; chucked his cap to the ceiling,
caught it as it fell; whistled Tullochgorum; danced a Highland fling
with inimitable grace and agility; and then threw himself exhausted into
a chair, exclaiming, 'Lady Wauverley!--ten thousand a year, the least
penny!--Lord preserve my poor understanding!'

'Amen, with all my heart,' said Waverley;--'but now, Mr. Macwheeble, let
us proceed to business.' This word had a somewhat sedative effect, but
the Bailie's head, as he expressed himself, was still 'in the bees.'
He mended his pen, however, marked half a dozen sheets of paper with an
ample marginal fold, whipped down Dallas of St. Martin's STYLES from
a shelf, where that venerable work roosted with Stair's INSTITUTIONS,
Dirleton's DOUBTS, Balfour's PRACTIQUES, and a parcel of old
account-books-opened the volume at the article Contract of Marriage, and
prepared to make what he called a 'sma' minute, to prevent parties frae
resiling.

With some difficulty, Waverley made him comprehend that he was going a
little too fast. He explained to him that he should want his assistance,
in the first place, to make his residence safe for the time, by writing
to the officer at Tully-Veolan, that Mr. Stanley, an English gentleman,
nearly related to Colonel Talbot, was upon a visit of business at
Mr. Macwheeble's, and, knowing the state of the country, had sent his
passport for Captain Foster's inspection. This produced a polite answer
from the officer, with an invitation to Mr. Stanley to dine with him,
which was declined (as may easily be supposed), under pretence of
business.

Waverley's next request was, that Mr. Macwheeble would dispatch a man
and horse to --, the post-town, at which Colonel Talbot was to address
him, with directions to wait there until the post should bring a letter
for Mr. Stanley, and then to forward it to Little Veolan with all speed.
In a moment, the Bailie was in search of his apprentice (or servitor, as
he was called Sixty Years since), Jock Scriever, and in not much greater
space of time, Jock was on the back of the white pony.

'Tak care ye guide him weel, sir, for he's aye been short in the wind
since--ahem--lord be gude to me!' (in a low voice) 'I was gaun to come
out wi'--since I rode whip and spur to fetch the Chevalier to redd
Mr. Wauverley and Vich Ian Vohr; and an uncanny coup I gat for my
pains.--Lord forgie your honour! I might hae broken my neck--but troth
it was in a venture, mae ways nor ane; but this maks amends for a'. Lady
Wauverley!--ten thousand a year!--Lord be gude unto me!'

'But you forget, Mr. Macwheeble, we want the Baron's consent--the
lady's--'

'Never fear, I'se be caution for them--I'se gie you my personal
warrandice--ten thousand a year! it dings Balmawhapple out and out--a
year's rent's worth a' Balmawhapple, fee and life-rent! Lord make us
thankful!'

To turn the current of his feelings, Edward inquired if he had heard
anything lately of the Chieftain of Glennaquoich?

'Not one word,' answered Macwheeble, 'but that he was still in Carlisle
Castle, and was soon to be panelled for his life. I dinna wish the young
gentleman ill,' he said, 'but I hope that they that hae got him will
keep him, and no let him back to this Hieland border to plague us wi'
blackmail, and a' manner o' violent, wrongous, and masterfu' oppression
and spoliation, both by himself and others of his causing, sending, and
hounding out:--and he couldna tak care o' the siller when he had gotten
it neither, but flung it a' into yon idle quean's lap at Edinburgh--but
light come light gane. For my part, I never wish to see a kilt in the
country again, nor a red-coat, nor a gun, for that matter, unless it
were to shoot a paitrick:--they're a' tarr'd wi' ae stick. And when
they have done ye wrang, even when ya hae gotten decreet of spuilzie,
oppression, and violent profits against them, what better are ye?--they
hae na a plack to pay ye; ye need never extract it.'

With such discourse, and the intervening topics of business, the time
passed until dinner, Macwheeble meanwhile promising to devise some mode
of introducing Edward at the Duchran, where Rose at present resided,
without risk of danger or suspicion; which seemed no very easy
task, since the laird was a very zealous friend to Government.--The
poultry-yard had been laid under requisition, and cockyleeky and Scotch
collops soon reeked in the Bailie's little parlour. The landlord's
corkscrew was just introduced into the muzzle of a pint-bottle of claret
(cribbed possibly from the cellars of Tully-Veolan), when the sight of
the grey pony, passing the window at full trot, induced the Bailie,
but with due precaution, to place it aside for the moment. Enter Jock
Scriever with a packet for Mr. Stanley: it is Colonel Talbot's seal; and
Edward's fingers tremble as he undoes it. Two official papers, folded,
signed, and sealed in all formality, drop out. They were hastily picked
up by the Bailie, who had a natural respect for everything resembling
a deed, and, glancing slily on their titles, his eyes, or rather
spectacles, are greeted with 'Protection by His Royal Highness to the
person of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq. of that ilk, commonly
called Baron of Bradwardine, forfeited for his accession to the late
rebellion.' The other proves to be a protection of the same tenor in
favour of Edward Waverley, Esq. Colonel Talbot's letter was in these
words:--

'MY DEAR EDWARD,

'I am just arrived here, and yet I have finished my business; it has
cost me some trouble though, as you shall hear. I waited upon his Royal
Highness immediately on my arrival, and found him in no very good humour
for my purpose. Three or four Scotch gentlemen were just leaving his
levee. After he had expressed himself to me very courteously; "Would
you think it," he said, "Talbot? here have been half a dozen of the
most respectable gentlemen, and best friends to Government north of
the Forth,--Major Melville of Cairnvreckan, Rubrick of Duchran, and
others,--who have fairly wrung from me, by their downright importunity,
a present protection, and the promise of a future pardon, for that
stubborn old rebel whom they call Baron of Bradwardine. They allege that
his high personal character, and the clemency which he showed to such of
our people as fell into the rebels' hands, should weigh in his favour;
especially as the loss of his estate is likely to be a severe enough
punishment. Rubrick has undertaken to keep him at his own house till
things are settled in the country; but it's a little hard to be forced
in a manner to pardon such a mortal enemy to the House of Brunswick."
This was no favourable moment for opening my business:--however, I said
I was rejoiced to learn that his Royal Highness was in the course of
granting such requests, as it emboldened me to present one of the like
nature in my own name. He was very angry, but I persisted;--I mentioned
the uniform support of our three votes in the House, touched modestly
on services abroad, though valuable only in his Royal Highness's having
been pleased kindly to accept them, and founded pretty strongly on his
own expressions of friendship and goodwill. He was embarrassed, but
obstinate. I hinted the policy of detaching, on all future occasions,
the heir of such a fortune as your uncle's from the machinations of the
disaffected. But I made no impression. I mentioned the obligation which
I lay under to Sir Everard, and to you personally, and claimed, as the
sole reward of my services, that he would be pleased to afford me the
means of evincing my gratitude. I perceived that he still meditated a
refusal, and, taking my commission from my pocket, I said (as a last
resource), that as his Royal Highness did not, under these pressing
circumstances, think me worthy of a favour which he had not scrupled
to grant to other gentlemen, whose services I could hardly judge more
important than my own, I must beg leave to deposit, with all humility,
my commission in his Royal Highness's hands, and to retire from the
service. He was not prepared for this;--he told me to take up my
commission; said some handsome things of my services, and granted my
request. You are therefore once more a free man, and I have promised for
you that you will be a good boy in future, and remember what you owe to
the lenity of Government. Thus you see MY PRINCE can be as generous as
YOURS. I do not pretend, indeed, that he confers a favour with all the
foreign graces and compliments of your Chevalier errant; but he has a
plain English manner, and the evident reluctance with which he grants
your request, indicates the sacrifice which he makes of his own
inclination to your wishes. My friend, the adjutant-general, has
procured me a duplicate of the Baron's protection (the original being in
Major Melville's possession), which I send to you, as I know that if you
can find him you will have pleasure in being the first to communicate
the joyful intelligence. He will of course repair to the Duchran without
loss of time, there to ride quarantine for a few weeks. As for you, I
give you leave to escort him thither, and to stay a week there, as
I understand a certain fair lady is in that quarter. And I have the
pleasure to tell you, that whatever progress you can make in her good
graces will be highly agreeable to Sir Everard and Mrs. Rachel, who will
never believe your view and prospects settled, and the three ermines
passant in actual safety, until you present them with a Mrs. Edward
Waverley. Now, certain love-affairs of my own--a good many years
since--interrupted some measures which were then proposed in favour of
the three ermines passant; so I am bound in honour to make them amends.
Therefore make good use of your time, for when your week is expired, it
will be necessary that you go to London to plead your pardon in the law
courts.

'Ever, dear Waverley, yours most truly,

'PHILIP TALBOT.'



CHAPTER LXVII

Happy 's the wooing
That's not long a-doing.

When the first rapturous sensation occasioned by these excellent tidings
had somewhat subsided, Edward proposed instantly to go down to the glen
to acquaint the Baron with their import. But the cautious Bailie justly
observed, that if the Baron were to appear instantly in public, the
tenantry and villagers might become riotous in expressing their joy,
and give offence to 'the powers that be,' a sort of persons for whom
the Bailie always had unlimited respect. He therefore proposed that Mr.
Waverley should go to Janet Gellatley's, and bring the Baron up under
cloud of night to Little Veolan, where he might once more enjoy the
luxury of a good bed. In the meanwhile, he said, he himself would go
to Captain Foster, and show him the Baron's protection, and obtain his
countenance for harbouring him that night,--and he would have horses
ready on the morrow to set him on his way to the Duchran along with
Mr. Stanley, 'whilk denomination, I apprehend, your honour will for the
present retain,' said the Bailie.

'Certainly, Mr. Macwheeble; but will you not go down to the glen
yourself in the evening to meet your patron?'

'That I wad wi' a' my heart; and mickle obliged to your honour for
putting me in mind o' my bounden duty. But it will be past sunset afore
I get back frae the Captain's, and at these unsonsy hours the glen has
a bad name--there's something no that canny about auld Janet Gellatley.
The Laird he'll no believe thae things, but he was aye ower rash and
venturesome--and feared neither man nor deevil--and sae's seen o't.
But right sure am I Sir George Mackenyie says, that no divine can doubt
there are witches, since the Bible says thou shalt not suffer them
to live; and that no lawyer in Scotland can doubt it, since it is
punishable with death by our law. So there's baith law and gospel for
it. An his honour winna believe the Leviticus, he might aye believe
the Statute-book; but he may tak his ain way o't--it's a' ane to Duncan
Macwheeble. However, I shall send to ask up auld Janet this e'en; it 's
best no to lightly them that have that character--and we'll want Davie
to turn the spit, for I'll gar Eppie put down a fat goose to the fire
for your honours to your supper.'

When it was near sunset, Waverley hastened to the hut; and he could not
but allow that superstition had chosen no improper locality, or unfit
object, for the foundation of her fantastic terrors. It resembled
exactly the description of Spenser:

There, in a gloomy hollow glen, she found.
A little cottage built of sticks and reeds,
In homely wise, and wall'd with sods around,
In which a witch did dwell in loathly weeds,
And wilful want, all careless of her needs;
So choosing solitary to abide
Far from all neighbours, that her devilish deeds,
And hellish arts, from people she might hide,
And hurt far off, unknown, whomsoever she espied.

He entered the cottage with these verses in his memory. Poor old Janet,
bent double with age, and bleared with peat-smoke, was tottering about
the hut with a birch broom, muttering to herself as she endeavoured
to make her hearth and floor a little clean for the reception of her
expected guests. Waverley's step made her start, look up, and fall
a-trembling, so much had her nerves been on the rack for her patron's
safety. With difficulty Waverley made her comprehend that the Baron
was now safe from personal danger; and when her mind had admitted that
joyful news, it was equally hard to make her believe that he was not to
enter again upon possession of his estate. 'It behoved to be,' she said,
'he wad get it back again; naebody wad be sae gripple as to tak his gear
after they had gi'en him a pardon: and for that Inch-Grabbit, I could
whiles wish mysell a witch for his sake, if I werena feared the Enemy
wad tak me at my word.' Waverley then gave her some money, and promised
that her fidelity should be rewarded. 'How can I be rewarded, sir, sae
weel, as just to see my auld maister and Miss Rose come back and bruik
their ain?'

Waverley now took leave of Janet, and soon stood beneath the Baron's
Patmos. At a low whistle, he observed the veteran peeping out to
reconnoitre, like an old badger with his head out of his hole. 'Ye hae
come rather early, my good lad,' said he, descending; 'I question if the
red-coats hae beat the tattoo yet, and we're not safe till then.'

'Good news cannot be told too soon,' said Waverley; and with infinite
joy communicated to him the happy tidings.

The old man stood for a moment in silent devotion, then exclaimed,
'Praise be to God!--I shall see my bairn again.'

'And never, I hope, to part with her more,' said Waverley.

'I trust in God, not, unless it be to win the means of supporting her;
for my things are but in a bruckle state;--but what signifies warld's
gear?'

'And if,' said Waverley, modestly, 'there were a situation in life which
would put Miss Bradwardine beyond the uncertainty of fortune, and in
the rank to which she was born, would you object to it, my dear Baron,
because it would make one of your friends the happiest man in the
world?' The Baron turned, and looked at him with great earnestness.
'Yes,' continued Edward, 'I shall not consider my sentence of banishment
as repealed, unless you will give me permission to accompany you to the
Duchran, and--'

The Baron seemed collecting all his dignity to make a suitable reply to
what, at another time, he would have treated as the propounding a treaty
of alliance between the houses of Bradwardine and Waverley. But his
efforts were in vain; the father was too mighty for the Baron; the pride
of birth and rank were swept away: in the joyful surprise, a slight
convulsion passed rapidly over his features as he gave way to the
feelings of nature, threw his arms around Waverley's neck, and sobbed
out,--'My son! my son!--if I had been to search the world, I would have
made my choice here.' Edward returned the embrace with great sympathy of
feeling, and for a little while they both kept silence. At length it was
broken by Edward. But Miss Bradwardine?'

'She had never a will but her old father's; besides, you are a likely
youth, of honest principles and high birth; no, she never had any other
will than mine, and in my proudest days I could not have wished a mair
eligible espousal for her than the nephew of my excellent old friend,
Sir Everard.--But I hope, young man, ye deal na rashly in this matter?
I hope ye hae secured the approbation of your ain friends and allies,
particularly of your uncle, who is in LOCO PARENTIS? Ah! we maun tak
heed o' that.' Edward assured him that Sir Everard would think himself
highly honoured in the flattering reception his proposal had met with,
and that it had his entire approbation; in evidence of which, he put
Colonel Talbot's letter into the Baron's hand. The Baron read it with
great attention. 'Sir Everard,' he said, 'always despised wealth in
comparison of honour and birth; and indeed he had no occasion to court
the DIVA PECUNIA. Yet I now wish, since this Malcolm turns out such a
parricide, for I can call him no better, as to think of alienating the
family inheritance-I now wish' (his eyes fixed on a part of the roof
which was visible above the trees) 'that I could have left Rose the
auld hurley-house, and the riggs belanging to it.--And yet,' said he,
resuming more cheerfully, 'it's maybe as weel as it is; for, as Baron
of Bradwardine, I might have thought it my duty to insist upon certain
compliances respecting name and bearings, whilk now, as a landless laird
wi' a tocherless daughter, no one can blame me for departing from.'