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 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY EDITION, 
 
 GUY MANNERING 
 
 TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 
 1868. 
 
^ APR 13 7002 
 
 Tfe3/7 
 
 \b(o8 
 
 Vol. I- 2- 
 
 University Press: 
 
 Welch, Bigelow, and Company, 
 
 Cambridge, 
 
 %^^- 
 
 
 /» 
 
 >i 
 
GUY MANNERING; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER 
 
 'Tis said that words and signs have power, 
 O'er sprites in planetary hour ; 
 But scarce I praise their. venturous part. 
 Who tamper with such dangerous art. 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MrNSTKtt. 
 
GUY MANNERING; 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER. 
 
 'Tis said that words and signs have power, 
 O'er sprites in planetary hour; 
 Put scarce I praise their venturous part, 
 Who tamper with such dangerous art. 
 
 LAY OP THE LAST MDfSTEEL. 
 
 INTRODUCTION (1829.) 
 
 The Novel or Romance of Waverley made its way 
 to the public slowly, of course, at first, but afterwards 
 with such accumulating popularity as to er courage the 
 Author to a second attempt. He looked about for a 
 name and a subject ; and the manner in which the novels 
 were composed cannot be better illustrated than by re- 
 citing the simple narrative on which Guy Mannering was 
 originally founded ; but to which, in the progress of the 
 work, the production ceased to bear any, even the most 
 distant resemblance. The tale was originally told me by 
 an old servant of my father's, an excellent old High- 
 lander, without a fault, unless a preference to mountain- 
 
b WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 dew over less potent liquors be accounted one. He 
 believed as firmly in the story, as in any part of hia 
 creed. 
 
 A grave and elderly person, according to old John 
 MacKinlay's account, while travelling in the wilder parts 
 of Galloway, was benighted. With difficulty he found 
 ]iis way to a country-seat, where, with the hospitality of 
 tlie time and country, he was readily admitted. The 
 owner of the house, a gentleman of good fortune, was 
 much struck by the reverend appearance of his guest, 
 and apologized to him for a certain degree of confusion 
 which must unavoidably attend his reception, and could 
 not escape his eye. The lady of the house was, he said, 
 confined to her apartment, and on the point of making 
 her husband a father for the fii'st time, though they had 
 been ten years married. At such an emergency, the 
 Laird said, he feared his guest might meet with some 
 apparent neglect. 
 
 " Not so, sir," said the stranger, " my wants are few, 
 and easily suppUed, and I trust the present circumstances 
 may even afford an opportimity of showing my gratitude 
 for your hospitality. Let me only request that I may 
 be informed of the exact minute of the birth ; and I 
 hope to be able to put you in possession of some particu- 
 lars, which may influence, in an important manner, the 
 future prospects of the cliild now about to come into this 
 busy and changeful world. I will not conceal from you 
 that I am skilful in understanding and interpreting the 
 movements of those planetary bodies which exert their 
 influences on the destiny of mortals. It is a science 
 which I do not practise, like others, who call themselves 
 astrologers, for hire or reward ; for I have a competent 
 estate, and only use the knowledge I possess for the ben- 
 
GUY JIANNERING. 7 
 
 efit of those in wLom I feel an interest." The Laird 
 bowed in respect and gi-atitude, and the stranger was 
 accommodated with an apartment which commanded an 
 ample view of the astral regions. 
 
 The guest spent a part of the night in ascertaining the 
 position of the heavenly bodies, and calculating their 
 probable influence ; until at length the result of his ob-' 
 servations induced him to send for the father, and conjure 
 him, in the most solemn manner, to cause the assistants 
 to retard the birth, if practicable, were it but for five 
 minutes. The answer declared this to be impossible; 
 and almost in the instant that the message was returned, 
 the father and his guest were made acquainted with the 
 birth of a boy. 
 
 The Astrologer on the morrow met the party who 
 gathered around the breakfast table with looks so grave 
 and ominous, as to alai'm the fears of the father, who had 
 hitherto exulted in the prospects held out by the birth of 
 an heir to his ancient property, failing which event it 
 must have passed to a distant branch of the family. He 
 hastened to draw the stranger into a private room. 
 
 " I fear from your looks," said the fatlier, " that you 
 have bad tidings to tell me of my young stranger : per- 
 haps God will resume the blessing he has bestowed ere 
 he attains the age of manhood ! or perhaps he is destined 
 to be unworthy of the affection which we are naturally 
 disposed to devote to our offspring ? " 
 
 " Neither the one nor the other," answered the stranger : 
 "unless my judgment greatly err, the infant will survive 
 the years of minority, and in temper and disposition will 
 prove ail that his parents can wish. But with much in 
 his horoscope which promises many blessings, there is 
 one evil influence strongly predominant, which threatens 
 
8 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 to subject him to an unhallowed and unhappy temptatioii 
 about the time when he shall attain the age of twenty-one, 
 which period, the constellations ultimate, will be the crisis 
 of his fate. In what shape, or with what peculiar ur- 
 gency, this temptation may beset him, niy art cannot dis- 
 cover." 
 
 "Your knowledge, then, can afford us no defence,** 
 said the anxious father, " against the threatened evil ? " 
 
 " Pardon me," answered the stranger, " it can. The 
 influence of the constellations is powerful ; but He, who 
 made the heavens, is more powerful than all, if his aid 
 be invoked in sincerity and truth. You ought to dedicate 
 this boy to the immediate service of liis Maker, with as 
 much sincerity as Samuel was devoted to the worsliip in 
 the Temple by his parents. You must regard him as a 
 being separated from the rest of the world. In child- 
 hood, in boyhood, you must surround him with the pious 
 and virtuous, and protect him, to" the utmost of your 
 power, from the sight or hearing of any crime, in word 
 or action. He must be educated in religious and moral 
 principles of the strictest description. Let him not enter 
 the world, lest he learn to partake of its follies, or per- 
 haps of its vices. In short, preserve him as far as pos- 
 sible from all sin, save that of which too great a portion 
 belongs to all the fallen race of Adam. With the ap- 
 proach of his twenty-fii'st birth-day comes the crisis of 
 his fate. If he survive it, he will be happy and prosper- 
 ous on earth, and a chosen vessel among those elected for 
 heaven. But if it be otherwise" — The Astrologer 
 stopped, and sighed deeply. 
 
 " Sir," replied the parent, still more alarmed than be- 
 fore, " your words are so kind, your advice so serious, 
 that I will pay the deepest attention to your behests. 
 
GUT man:nering. S 
 
 But can jou not aid me farther in tliis most important 
 concern ? Believe me, I will not be ungrateful." 
 
 " I require and deserve no gratitude for doing a good 
 action," said the stranger, " in especial for contributing 
 all that lies in my power to save from an abhorred fate 
 the harmless infant to whom, under a singular conjunc- 
 tion of planets, last night gnve life. There is m j address j 
 you may write to me from time to time concerning the 
 progress of the boy in religious knowledge. If he be 
 bred up as I advise, I think it will be best that he come 
 to my house at the time when the fatal and decisive 
 period approaches, that is, before he has attained his 
 twenty-first year complete. If you send him such as I 
 desire, I humbly trust that God will protect his own, 
 through whatever strong temptation his fate may subject 
 him to." He then gave his host his address, which was 
 a country-seat near a post-town in the south of England, 
 and bid him an affectionate farewell. 
 
 The mysterious stranger departed, but his words re- 
 mained impressed upon the mind of the anxious parent. 
 He lost his lady while his boy was still in infancy. This 
 calamity, I think, had been predicted by the Astrologer ; 
 and thus his confidence, which, like most people of the 
 period, he had freely given to the science, was riveted 
 and confirmed. The utmost care, therefore, was taken to 
 carry into effect the severe and almost ascetic plan of 
 education which the sage had enjoined. A tutor of the 
 strictest principles was employed to superintend the 
 youth's education ; he was surrounded by domestics of 
 the most established character, and closely watched and 
 looked after by the anxious father himself. 
 
 The years of infancy, childhood, and boyhood, passed 
 as the father could have wished. A young Nazareno 
 
10 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 could not have been bred up witli more rigour. All that 
 was evil was withheld from Ins observation ; — he only 
 heai-d what was pure in precept — he only witnessed what 
 was ^vorthy in practice. 
 
 But when the boy began to be lost in the youth, the 
 attentive father saw cause for alarm. Shades of sadness, 
 which gradually assumed a dai'ker character, began to 
 overcloud the young man's temper. Tears, which seemed 
 involuntary, broken sleep, moonhght wanderings, and a 
 melancholy for wliich, he could assign no reason, seemed 
 to threaten at once his bodily health, and the stabihty of 
 his mind. The Astrologer was consulted by letter, and 
 retui-ned for answer, that this fitful state of mind was but 
 the commencement of his trial, and that the poor youth 
 must undergo more and more desperate struggles with 
 the evil that assailed him. There was no hope of rem- 
 edy, save that he showed steadiness of mind in the study 
 of the Scriptures. " He suffers," continued the letter of 
 the sage, " from the awakening of those harpies, the pas- 
 sions, which have slept with him as with others, till the 
 period of life which he has now attained. Better, far 
 better that they torment him by ungrateful cravings, than 
 that he should have to repent having satiated them by 
 criminal indulgence." 
 
 The dispositions of the young man were so excellent, 
 that he combated, by reason and rehgion, the fits of gloom 
 which at times overcast his mind, and it was not till he 
 attained the commencement of his twenty-first year, that 
 they assumed a character w^hich made his father tremble 
 for the consequences. It seemed as if the gloomiest and 
 most hideous of mental maladies w^as taking the form of 
 rehgious despair. Still the }'Outh was gentle, courteous, 
 affectionate, and submissive to his father's will, and re- 
 
GUY MAXNERmG. 1\ 
 
 sisted with all his power the dark suggestions which were 
 breathed into his mind, as it seemed, by some emanation 
 of the Evil Principle, exhorting him, like' the wicked 
 wife of Job, to curse God and die. 
 
 The time at length arrived when he was to perform 
 what was then thought a long and somewhat perilous 
 journey, to the mansion of the early friend who had cal- 
 culated his nativity. His road lay through several places 
 of interest, and he enjoyed the amusement of travelling 
 more than he himself thought would have been possible. 
 Thus he did not reach the place of his destination till 
 noon, on the day preceding his birth-day. It seemed as 
 if he had been carried away with an unwonted tide of 
 pleasurable sensation, so as to forget in some degree, what 
 his father had communicated concerning the purpose of 
 his journey. He halted at length before a respectable 
 but solitary old mansion, to wliich he was directed as the 
 abode of his father's friend. 
 
 The servants who came to take his horse, told him 
 he had been expected for two days. He was led into 
 a study, where the stranger, now a venerable old man, 
 who had been his father's guest, met him with a shade of 
 displeasure, as well as gravity, on his brow. " Young 
 man," he said, " wherefore so slow on a journey of such 
 importance ? " — " I thought," repUed the guest, blushing 
 and looking downward, " that there was no harm in trav- 
 elling slowly, and satisfying my curiosity, providing I 
 could reach your residence by this day ; for such was my 
 father's charge." — " You were to blame," rephed the sage, 
 " in lingering, considering that the avenger of blood was 
 pressing on your footsteps. But you are come at last, 
 and we will hope for the best, though the conflict in wliich 
 j^ou are to be engaged will be found more dreadful, tho 
 
12 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 longer it is postponed. But first accept of sucli refresh- 
 ments as nature requires to satisfy, but not to pamper the 
 appetite.'' 
 
 The old man led the way into a summer-parlour, -wliere 
 a frugal meal was placed on the table. As they sat do^Mi 
 to the board, they were joined by a young lady about 
 eighteen years of age, and so lovely, that the sight of her 
 carried off the feelings of the young stranger from the 
 peculiarity and mystery of his own lot, and riveted his 
 attention to every thing she did or said. She spoke little, 
 and it was on the most serious subjects. She played on 
 the harpsichord at her father's command, but it was 
 hymns with which she accompanied the instrument. At 
 length, on a sign from the sage, she left the room, turnmg 
 on the young stranger, as she departed, a look of inex- 
 pressible anxiety and interest. 
 
 The old man then conducted the youth to his study, 
 and conversed \vith him upon the most important points 
 of religion, to satisfy liimself that he could render a 
 reason for the faith that was in him. During the exam- 
 ination, the youth, in spite of hunself, felt his mind occa- 
 sionally wander, and his recollections go in quest of the 
 beautiful vision who had shared their meal at noon. On 
 such occasions the Astrologer looked grave, and shook his 
 head at this relaxation of attention ; yet, on the whole, he 
 was pleased with the youth's replies. 
 
 At sunset the young man was made to take the bath ; 
 and, having done so, he was directed to attire himself in 
 a robe, somewhat like that worn by Armenians, having 
 his long hair combed down on his shoulders, and his neck, 
 hands, and feet bare. In this guise he was conducted 
 iiitc a remote chamber totally devoid of furniture, except- 
 ing a lamp, a chair, and a table, on which lay a Bible 
 
GUT MANNERING. 13 
 
 " Here," said tlie Astrologer, " I must leave you alone, to 
 pass the most critical period of your life. If you can, by 
 recollection of the great truths of which we have spoken, 
 repel the attacks which will be made on your courage and 
 your principles, you have nothing to apprehend. But 
 tlie trial will be severe and arduous." His features then 
 assumed a pathetic solemnity, the tears stood in liis eyes, 
 arid his voice faltered with emotion as he said, " Dear 
 child, at whose coming into the world I foresaw this fatal 
 trial, may God give thee grace to support it with fii-m- 
 ness!" 
 
 The young man was left alone ; and hardly did he find 
 himself so, when, like a swarm of demons, the recollec- 
 tion of all his sins of omission and commission, rendered 
 even more terrible by the scrupulousness with which he 
 had been educated, rushed on his mind, and, like furies 
 armed with fiery scourges, seemed determined to drive 
 liim to despair. As he combated these horrible recollec- 
 tions with distracted feelings, but with a resolved mind, 
 he became aware that his arguments were answered by 
 the sophistry of another, and that the dispute was no 
 longer confined to his own thoughts. The Author of 
 Evil was present in the room with him in bodily shape, 
 and, potent with spirits of a melancholy cast, was impress- 
 ing upon him the desperation of his state, and urging 
 suicide as the readiest mode to put an end to his sinful 
 <)areer. Amid his errors, the pleasure he had taken in pro- 
 longing his journey unnecessarily, and the attention which 
 he had bestowed on the beauty of the fair female, when 
 his thoughts ought to have been dedicated to the religious 
 discourse of her father, were set before him in the dark- 
 est colours ; and he was treated as one who, having sinned 
 against light, was therefore deservedly left a prey to the 
 Prince of Darkness. 
 
14 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 As tlie fated and influential hour rolled on, the terrors 
 of the hateful Presence grew more confounding to the 
 mortal senses of the victim, and the knot of the accursed 
 sophistry became more inextricable in appearance, at 
 least to the prey whom its meshes surrounded. He had 
 not power to explain the assurance of pardon which he 
 continued to assert, or to name the victorious name in 
 which he trusted. But his faith did not abandon him, 
 though he lacked for a time the power of expressing it. 
 " Say what you will," was his answer to the Tempter— 
 "I know there is as much betwixt the two boards of this 
 Book as can insure me forgiveness for my transgressions, 
 and safety for my soul." As he spoke, the clock, which 
 announced the lapse of the fatal hour, was heard to strike. 
 The speech and intellectual powers of the youth were 
 instantly and fully restored ; he burst forth into prayer, 
 and expressed, in the most glowing terms, his reliance on 
 the truth, and on the Author of the gospel. The demon 
 retired, yelling and discomfited, and the old man, entering 
 the apartment, with tears congratulated his guest on his 
 victory in the fated struggle. 
 
 The young man was afterwards married to the beauti- 
 ful maiden, the first sight of whom had made such an im- 
 pression on him, and they were consigned over at the 
 close of the story to domestic happiness. — So ended Jo] in 
 MacKinlay's legend. 
 
 The author of Waverley had imagined a possibility of 
 framing an interesting, and perhaps not an unedifying 
 tale, out of the incidents of the life of a doomed individ- 
 ual, whose efforts at good and virtuous conduct were to 
 be forever disappointed by the intervention, as it were, 
 of some malevolent being, and who was at last to come 
 off victorious from the fearful struggle. In short, some- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 15 
 
 thing was meditated upon a plan resembling the imagina- 
 tive tale of Sintram and his Companions, by Mona Le 
 Bai'on de la Motte Fouque, — although, if it then ex- 
 isted, the author had not seen it. 
 
 'J'he scheme projected may be traced in the three or 
 four first chapters of the work, but farther consideration 
 induced the author to lay his purpose aside. It appeared, 
 on mature consideration, that Astrology, though its in- 
 fluence was once received and admitted by Bacon him- 
 self, does not now retain influence over the general mind 
 suificient even to constitute the mainspring of a romance. 
 Besides, it occurred, that to do justice to such a subject 
 would have required not only more talent than the author 
 could be conscious of possessing, but also involved doc- 
 trines and discussions of a nature too serious for his pur- 
 pose, and for the character of the narrative. In changing 
 his plan, however, which was done in the course of 
 printing, the early sheets retained the vestiges of the 
 original tenor of the story, although they now hang upon 
 it as an unnecessary and unnatural encumbrance. The 
 cause of such vestiges occurring is now explained, and 
 apologized for. 
 
 It is here worthy of observation, that while the astro- 
 logical doctrines have fallen into general contempt, and 
 been supplanted by superstitions of a more gross and far 
 less beautiful character, they have, even in modern days, 
 I ?tained some votaries. 
 
 One of the most remarkable believers in that forgotten 
 and despised science, was a late eminent professor of the 
 art of legerdemain. One would have thought that a 
 person of this description ought, from his knowledge of 
 the thousand ways in which human eyes could be de- 
 ceived, to hav^e been less than others subject to the 
 
16 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 fantasies of superstition. Perhaps the habitual use. of 
 those abstruse calculations, by which, in a manner sur- 
 prising to the artist himself, many tricks upon cai'ds, &c., 
 are performed, induced this gentleman to study the com- 
 bination of the stars and planets, with the expectation of 
 obtaining prophetic communications. 
 
 He constructed a scheme of his ovra nativity, calculated 
 according to such rules of art as he could collect from 
 the best astrological authors. The result of the past he 
 found agreeable to what had hitherto befallen him, but 
 in the important prospect of the future a singular difficulty 
 occurred. There were two years, during the course of 
 which, he could by no means obtain any exact knowledge 
 whether the subject of the scheme would be dead or 
 aUve. Anxious concerning so remarkable a circumstance, 
 he gave the scheme to a brother Astrologer, who was 
 also baffled in the same manner. At one period he found 
 the native, or subject, was certainly alive — at another, 
 that he was unquestionably dead ; but a space of two 
 years extended between these two terms, during which 
 he could find no certainty as to his death or existence. 
 
 The Astrologer marked the remarkable circumstance 
 in his Diary, and continued his exhibitions in various 
 parts of the empire, until the period was about to expire, 
 during which his existence had been warranted as actu- 
 ally ascertained. At last, while he was exhibiting to a 
 numerous audience his usual tricks of legerdemain, the 
 liands, whose activity had so often baffled the closest 
 observer, suddenly lost their power, the cai'ds dropped 
 from them, and he sunk down a disabled paralytic. In 
 this state the artist languished for two years, when he 
 was at length removed by death. It is said that the 
 Diary of this modern Astrologer will soon be given to 
 the pubUc. 
 
GUY MANNERING 17 
 
 The fact, if truly reported, is one of those singular 
 coincidences which occasionally appear, differing so widely 
 from ordinary calculation, yet without which irregu- 
 larities, human hfe would not present to mortals looking 
 into futurity, the abyss of impenetrable darkness which 
 it is the pleasure of the Creator it should offer to them. 
 Were every thing to happen in the ordmary train of 
 events, the future would be subject to the rules of arith- 
 metic, hke the chances of gammg. But extraordinary 
 events, and wonderful runs of luck, defy the calculations 
 of mankind, and throw impenetrable dai'kness on future 
 contuigencies. 
 
 To the above anecdote, another, still more recent, may 
 be here added. The author was lately honoured with a 
 letter from a .gentleman deeply skilled in these mysteries, 
 who kindly undertook to calculate the nativity of the 
 writer of Guy Mannering, who might be supposed to be 
 friendly to the divine art which he professed. But it 
 .was impossible to supply data for the construction of a 
 horoscope, had the native been otherwise desirous of it, 
 since all those who could supply the minutia3 of day, 
 hour, and minute, have been long removed from the 
 mortal sphere. 
 
 Having thus given some account of the first idea or 
 rude sketch, of the story, which was soon departed from, 
 the author, in following out the plan of the present edition, 
 lias to mention the prototypes of the principal characters 
 in Guy Mannering. 
 
 Some circumstances of local situation gave the author, 
 h his youth, an opportunity of seeing a Httle, and hearing 
 a great deal, about that degraded class who are called 
 gipsies ; who are in most cases a mixed race, between 
 the ancient Egyptians who arrived in Europe about the 
 
 VOL. lU. 2 
 
18 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 beginning of the fifteenth century, and vagrants of Eu- 
 ropean descent. 
 
 The individual gipsy upon whom the character of 
 Meg Merrilies was founded, was well known about the 
 middle of the last century, by the name of Jean Gordon, 
 an inhabitant of the village of Kirk Yetholm, in the 
 Cheviot hills, adjoining to the English Border. The 
 author gave the pubhc some account of this remarkable 
 person, in one of the early Numbers of Blackwood's 
 Magazine, to the following purpose : — 
 
 "' My father remembered old Jean Gordon of Yetholm, 
 who had great sway among her tribe. She was quite a 
 Meg Merrilies, and possessed the savage virtue of fidehty 
 in the same perfection. Having been often hospitably 
 received at the farm-house of Lochside, near Yetholm, 
 she had carefully abstained from committing any depre- 
 dations on the farmer's property. But her sons (nme in 
 number) had not, it seems, the same delicacy, and stole 
 a brood-sow from their kind entertainer. Jean was 
 mortified at this ungrateful conduct, and so much ashamed 
 of it, that she absented herself from Lochside for several 
 years. 
 
 " It happened, in course of time, that in consequence 
 of some temporary pecuniary necessity, the Goodman of 
 Lochside was obliged to go to New^castle to raise some 
 money to lyay his rent. He succeeded m his purpose, 
 but returning through the mountains of Cheviot, he waa 
 benighted and lost his way. 
 
 " A light glimmering through the window of a large 
 waste barn, which had survived the farm-house to which 
 it had once belonged, guided him to a place of shelter ; 
 and when he knocked at the door, it was opened by Jean 
 Gordon. Her very remai'kable figure, for she was nearly 
 
GUY MANNERING. 19 
 
 six feet high, and her equally remarkable features and 
 dress, rendered it impossible to mistake her for a moment, 
 -though he had not seen her for years ; and to meet with 
 such a character in so solitary a place, and probably at no 
 great distance from her clan, was a grievous surprise to 
 tlie poor man, whose rent (to lose which would have been 
 I'uin) was about his person. 
 
 " Jean set up a loud shout of joyful recognition — ' Eh, 
 sirs ! the winsome Gudeman of Lochside ! Light down, 
 light down ; for ye mauna gang farther the night, and a 
 friend's house sae near.' The farmer was obliged to 
 dismount, and accept of the gipsy's offer of supper and 
 a bed. There was plenty of meat in the barn, however 
 it might be come by, and preparations were going on for 
 a plentiful repast, which the farmer, to the great increase 
 of his anxiety, observed was calculated for ten or twelve 
 guests, of the same description, probably, with his land- 
 lady. 
 
 " Jean left him in no doubt on the subject. She 
 brought to his recollection the story of the stolen sow, 
 and mentioned how much pain and vexation it had given 
 her. Like other philosophers, she remarked that the 
 world grew worse daily ; and, like other parents, that 
 the bairns got out of her guiding, and neglected the old 
 gipsy regulations, which commanded them to respect, in 
 their depredations, ihe T3roperty of their benefactors. 
 The end of all this was, an inquiry what money the 
 farmer had about him, and an urgent request, or com- 
 mand, that he would make her liis purse-keeper, since 
 the bairns, as she called her sons, would be soon home. 
 The poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his 
 story, and surrendered his gold to Jean's custody. She 
 made him put a few shillings in his pocket, observing it 
 
20 WA.YERIEY NOVELS. 
 
 would excite suspicion should he be found travelling 
 altogether penniless. 
 
 " This arrangement being made, the farmer lay down 
 on a sort of shake-down, as the Scotch call it, or bed- 
 cl( thes disposed upon some straw, but, as will easily be 
 believed, slept not. 
 
 "About midnight the gang returned, with various 
 articles of plunder, and talked over their exploits in 
 language which made the farmer tremble. They were 
 not long in discovering they had a guest, and demanded 
 of Jean whom she had got there. 
 
 " * E'en the winsome Gudeman of Lochside, poor body,' 
 replied Jean ; ' he's been at Newcastle seeking siller to 
 pay his rent, honest man, but deil-be-hckit he's been able 
 to gather in, and sae he's gaun e'en hame wi' a toom 
 purse and a sair heart.' 
 
 "'That may be, Jean,' rephed one of the banditti, 
 * but we maun ripe his pouches a bit, and see if the tale 
 be true or no.' Jean set up her throat in exclamations 
 against this breach of hospitality, but without producing 
 any change in their determination. The farmer soon 
 heard their stitled whispers and hght steps by his bedside, 
 and understood they were rummaging his clothes. When 
 they found the money which the providence of Jean 
 Gordon had made him retain, they held a consultation if 
 they should take it or no ; but the smallness of the booty, 
 and the vehemence of Jean's remonstrances, determined 
 them in the negative. They caroused and went to rest 
 As soon as day dawned, Jean roused her guest, produced 
 his horse, which she had accommodated behind the hallan, 
 and guided him for some miles, tiU he was on the high- 
 road to Lochside. She then restored his whole property 
 nor could his earnest entreaties prevail on her to ac ;ept 
 BO much as a single guinea. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 21 
 
 " I have heard the old people at Jedburgh say, that all 
 Jean's sons were condemned to die there on the siune 
 day. It is said the jury were equally divided, but that a 
 friend to justice, who had slept during the whole discus- 
 sion, waked suddenly, and gave his vote for condemna- 
 tion, in the emphatic words, * Ifa7ig them a' / ' Unanimity 
 is not required in a Scottish jury, so the verdict of guilty 
 was returned. Jean was present, and only said, ' The 
 Lord help the innocent in a day hke this ! ' Her own 
 death was accompanied with circumstances of brutal out- 
 rage, of which poor Jean was in many respects wholly 
 undeserving. She had, among other demerits, or merits, 
 as the reader may choose to rank it, that of being a 
 staunch Jacobite. She chanced to be at Carlisle upon a 
 fair or market-day, soon after the year 1746, where she 
 gave vent to her political partiality, to the great offence 
 of the rabble of that city. Being zealous in their loyalty, 
 when there was no danger, in proportion to the tameness 
 with which they had surrendered to the Highlanders in 
 1745, the mob inflicted upon poor Jean Gordon no 
 slighter penalty than that of ducking her to death in the 
 Eden. It was an operation of some time, for Jean was a 
 stout woman, and, struggling with her murderers, often 
 got her head above water ; and, while she had voice left, 
 continued to exclaim at such intervals, * Charlie yet! 
 Charlie yet ! ' When a child, and among the scenes 
 which she frequented, I have often heard these stories, 
 and cried piteously for poor Jean Gordon. 
 
 " Before quitting the Border gipsies, I may mentionj 
 that my grandfather, while riding over Charterhouse 
 moor, then a very extensive common, fell suddenly 
 among a large band of them, who were carousing in a 
 hollow of the moor, surrounded by bushes. They in- 
 
22 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 stantly seized on his horse's bridle Avitli many shouts of 
 welcome, exclaiming, (for he was well known to most of 
 them,) that they had often dined at his expense, and he 
 must now stay and share their good cheer. My ancestor 
 was a little alamied, for, hke the Goodman of Lochside, 
 he had more money about his person than he cared to risk 
 in such society. However, being naturally a bold hvely- 
 spii'ited man, he entered into the humour of the things 
 and sat down to the feast, which consisted of all the varie- 
 ties of game, poultry, pigs, and so forth, that could be 
 collected by a wide and indiscriminate system of plunder. 
 The dinner was a very merry one ; but my relative got 
 a hint from some of the older gipsies to retire just when — 
 
 The mirtli and fun gi*ew fast and furious ; 
 
 and mounting liis horse, accordingly, he took a French 
 leave of his entertainers, but without experiencing the 
 least breach of hospitality. I believe Jean Gordon was 
 at this festival." — {^Blackwood's Magazine, vol. i. p. 54.) 
 Notwithstanding the failure of Jean's issue, for which, 
 
 Weaiy fa' the waefu' wuddie, 
 
 a grand-daughter survived her whom I remember to have 
 seen. That is, as Dr. Johnson had a shadowy recollec- 
 tion of Queen Anne, as a stately lady in black, adorned 
 with diamonds, so my memory is haunted by a solemn 
 remembrance of a woman of more than female height, 
 dressed in a long red cloak, who commenced acquaintance 
 by giving me an apple, but whom, nevertheless, I looked 
 3n with as much awe, as the future Doctor, High Church 
 and Tory as he was doomed to be, could look upon the 
 Queen. I conceive this woman to have been Madge 
 G\)rdon, of whom an impressive account is given in the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 23 
 
 same article in whicli her mother Jean is mentioned, but 
 not by the present writer : — 
 
 " The late -Madge Gordon was at this time accounted 
 the Queen of the Yetholm clans. She was, we believe, 
 a grand -daughter of the celebrated Jean Gordon, and was 
 said to have much resembled her in appearance. The 
 following account of her is extracted from the letter of a 
 Iriend, who for many years enjoyed frequent and favour- 
 able opportunities of observing the characteristic pecu- 
 liarities of the Yetholm tribes : — ' Madge Gordon was 
 descended from the Faas by the mother's side, and was 
 married to a Young. She was a remarkable personage 
 — of a very commanding presence, and high stature, 
 being nearly six feet high. She had a large aquiline 
 nose, — penetrating eyes, even in her old age, — bushy hair, 
 that hung around her shoulders from beneath a gipsy 
 bonnet of straw, — a short cloak of a peculiar fashion, and 
 a long staff nearly as tall as herself. I remember her 
 well ; — every week she paid my father a visit for her 
 awmous, when I w^as a little boy, and I looked upon 
 Madge with no common degree of awe and terror. Wlien 
 she spoke vehemently, (for she made loud complaints,) 
 she used to strike her staff upon the floor, and throw 
 herself into an attitude which it was impossible to regard 
 with indifference. She used to say that she could bring, 
 from the remotest parts of the island, friends to revenge 
 hor quan-el, while she sat motionless in her cottage ; and 
 slui frequently boasted that there was a time when she 
 was of still more considerable importance, for there were 
 at her wedding fifty saddled asses, and unsaddled asses 
 without number. If Jean Gordon was the prototype of 
 the character of Meg Merrilies, I imagine Madge must 
 have sat to the unknown author as the representative of 
 her person."' — (Blackwood's Magazine, vol. i. p. 56.) 
 
24 WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 How far Blackwood's ingenious correspondent was 
 right, how far mistaken, in his conjecture, the reader has 
 been informed. 
 
 To pass to a character of a very different description, 
 Dominie Sampson, the reader may easily suppose that a 
 poor, modest, humble scholai', who has won his way 
 tlii^ough the classics, yet has fallen to leeward in the 
 voyage of life, is no uncommon personage in a count ly 
 where a certain portion of learning is easily attained by 
 those who are willing to suffer hunger and thirst in ex- 
 change for acquii'ing Greek and Latin. But there is a 
 far more exact prototype of the worthy Dominie, upon 
 which is founded the part which he performs in the 
 romance, and which, for certain particular reasons, must 
 be expressed very generally. 
 
 Such a preceptor as Mr. Sampson is supposed to have 
 been, was actually tutor in the family of a gentleman of 
 considerable property. The young lads, his pupils, grew 
 up and went out in the world ; but the tutor continued to 
 reside in the family, no uncommon circumstance in Scot- 
 land (in former days), where food and shelter were 
 readily afforded to humble friends and dependents. The 
 Laird's predecessors had been imprudent ; he himself 
 was passive and unfortunate. Death swept away his 
 sons, whose success in hfe might have balanced his own 
 bad luck and incapacity. Debts increased and funds 
 diminished, until ruin came. The estate was sold ; and 
 the old man was about to remove from the house of his 
 fathers, to go he knew not whither, when, like an old 
 piece of furniture, which, left alone in its wonted corner, 
 may hold together for a long while, but breaks to pieces 
 on an attempt to move it, he fell do^\'n on his own tliresh- 
 old under a paralytic affection. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 25 
 
 The tutor awakened as from a dream. He saw his 
 patron dead, and that his patron's only remaining child, 
 an elderly woman, now neither graceful nor beautiful, if 
 she had ever been either the one or the other, had by 
 this calamity become a homeless and penniless orphan. 
 He addressed her nearly in the words which Dominie 
 Sampson uses to ]\Iiss Bertram, and professed his deter- 
 mination not to leave her. Accordingly, roused to the 
 exercise of talents which had long slumbered, he opened 
 a little' school, and supported his patron's child for the 
 rest of her life, treating her with the same humble ob- 
 servance and devoted attention which he had used towards 
 her in the days of her prosperity. 
 
 Such is the outline of Dominie Sampson's real story, 
 in which there is neither romantic incident nor senti- 
 mental passion ; but which, perhaps, from the rectitude 
 and simplicity of character which it displays, may interest 
 the heart and fill the eye of the reader as irresistibly, as 
 if it respected distresses of a more dignified or refined 
 character. 
 
 These preliminary notices concerning the tale of Guy 
 Mannering, and some of the characters introduced, may 
 save the author and reader, in the present instance, the 
 trouble of writing and perusing a long string of detached 
 notes. 
 
 I may add, that the motto of this Novel was takep. 
 from the Lay of the Last Minstrel, to evade the con- 
 clusions of those who began to think that, as the author 
 of Waverley never quoted the works of Sir Walter 
 Scott, he must have reason for doing so, and that the 
 cii'cumstances might argue an identity between them. 
 Abbotsford, August 1, 1829. 
 
26 VVAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTE. 
 
 CAL\7EGIAN LOCALITIES AND PERSONAGES WHICH 
 HAVE BEEN SUPPOSED TO BE ALLUDED TO IN THE 
 
 NOVEL. 
 
 An old English proverb sajs, that more know Tom 
 Fool than Tom Fool knows; and the influence of the 
 adage seems to extend to works composed mider the 
 influence of an idle or foolish planet. Many correspond- 
 ing circumstances are detected by readers, of which the 
 author did not suspect the existence. He must, however, 
 regard it as a great compliment, that, in detaihng inci- 
 dents purely imaginary, he has been so fortunate in 
 approximating reality, as to remind his readers of actual 
 occurrences. It is therefore with pleasure he notices 
 some pieces of local history and tradition, which have 
 been supposed to coincide with the fictitious persons, 
 incidents, and scenery of Guy Mannering. 
 
 The prototype of Dirk Hatteraick is considered as 
 having been a Dutch skipper called Yawkins. This man 
 was well kno^vn on the coast of Galloway and Dumfries- 
 Bhire, as sole proprietor and master of a BuchJcar, or 
 smugghng lugger, called The Black Prince. Being dis- 
 tinguished by his nautical skill and intrepidity, his 
 vessel was frequently freighted, and his own servicua 
 employed, by French, Dutch, Manx, and Scottish smug- 
 gling companies. 
 
GUY M^NNERING. ♦ 27 
 
 A person well kno^vn by the name of Buckkar-Tea, 
 from having been a noted smuggler of that article, and 
 also by that of Bogle-Bush, the place of his residence, 
 assured my kind informant, Mr. Train, that he had 
 frequently seen upwards of two hundred Lingtowmen 
 assemble at one time, and go off into the interior of the 
 country, fully laden with contraband goods. 
 
 In those halcyon days of the free trade, the fixed price 
 for carrying a box of tea, or bale of tobacco, from the 
 coast of Galloway to Edinburgh, was fifteen shillings, and 
 a man with two horses carried four such packages. The 
 trade was entirely destroyed by Mr. Pitt's celebrated 
 commutation law, which, by reducing the duties upon 
 excisable articles, enabled the lawful dealer to compete 
 with the smuggler. The statute was called in Galloway 
 and Dumfries-shire, by those who had thriven upon the 
 contraband trade, " the burning and starving act." 
 
 Sure of such active assistance on shore, Yawkins 
 demeaned himself so boldly, that his mere name was a 
 terror to the ofiicers of the revenue. He availed himself 
 of the fears which his presence inspired on one particular 
 night, when, happening to be ashore with a considerable 
 quantity of goods in his sole custody, a strong party of 
 excisemen came down on him. Far from shunning the 
 attack, Yawkins sprung forward, shouting, " Come on, my 
 lads ! Yawkins is before you." The revenue ofiicers 
 were intimidated, and relinquished their prize, though 
 defended only by the courage and address of a single 
 man. On his proper element, . Yawkins was equally suc- 
 cessful. On one occasion, he was landing his cargo at 
 the Manxman's Lake, near Kirkcudbright, when two 
 revenue cutters (the Pigmy and the Dwarf) hove in 
 sight at once on different tacks, the one coming round by 
 
28 ♦ WAYEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 the Isles of Fleet, the other between the Point of Rue- 
 berry and the Muckle Ron. The dauntless free-trader 
 instantly weighed anchor, and bore down right between 
 the luggers, so close that he tossed his hat on the deck 
 of the one, and his wig on that of the other, hoisted a 
 cask to his maintop, to show his occupation, and bore 
 away under an extraordinary pressure of canvass, without 
 receiving injury. To account for these and other hair- 
 breadth escapes, popular superstition alleged that Yawkins 
 insured his celebrated buckkar by compounding Avith the 
 devil for one tenth of his crew every voyage. How they 
 arranged the separation of the stock and tithes, is left to 
 our conjecture. The buckkar was perhaps called Tho. 
 Black Prince in honour of the formidable insurer. 
 
 The Black Prince used to discharge her cargo at Luce, 
 Balcarry, and elsewhere on the coast ; but her owner's 
 favourite landing-places were at the entrance of the Dee 
 and the Cree, near the old castle of Rueberry, about six 
 miles below Kirkcudbright. There is a cave of large 
 dimensions in the vicinity of Rueberry, which, from its 
 being frequently used by Yawkins, and his supposed con- 
 nexion with the smugglers on the shore, is now called 
 Dirk Hatteraick's cave. Strangers who visit this place, 
 the scenery of which is highly romantic, are also shown, 
 under the name of the Ganger's Loup, a tremendous 
 precipice, being the same, it is asserted, from which 
 Kennedy was precipitated. 
 
 Meg Merrihes is in Galloway considered as having 
 had her origin in the traditions concerning the celebrated 
 Flora Marshal, one of the royal consorts of Willie 
 Marshal, more commonly called the Caird of BarulKon, 
 Kmg of the Gipsies of the Western Lowlands. That 
 potentate was himself deserving of notice, from the fol- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 29 
 
 lowing peculiarities. He was born in the parish of 
 Kirkmichael, about the year 1671 ; and as he died al 
 Kirkcudbright 23d November, 1792, he must then have 
 been in the one hundred and twentieth year of his age. 
 It cannot be said that this unusually long lease of exist- 
 ence was noted by any peculiar excellence of conduct or 
 habits of life. WiUie had been pressed or enlisted seven 
 times, and had deserted as often ; besides three times 
 running away from the naval service. He had been 
 seventeen times la^^ully married ; and besides such a 
 reasonably large share of matrimonial comforts, was, after 
 his hundredth year, the avowed father of four children, 
 by less legitimate affections. He subsisted, in his ex- 
 treme old age, by a pension from the present Earl of 
 Selkirk's grandfather. Will Marshal is buried in Kirk- 
 cudbright church, where his monument is still shown, 
 decorated with a scutcheon suitably blazoned with two 
 tups' horns and two cutty spoons. 
 
 In his youth he occasionally took an evening walk on 
 the highway, with the purpose of assisting travellers by 
 relieving them of the weight of their purses. On one 
 occasion, the Caird of BaruUion robbed the Laird of 
 Bargally, at a place between Carsphairn and Dalmelling- 
 ton. His purpose was not achieved without a severe 
 struggle, in which the Gipsy lost his bonnet, and wa3 
 obliged to escape, leaving it on the road. A respectable 
 farmer happened to be the next passenger, and seeing Ihe 
 bonnet, alighted, took it up, and rather iniprudently put 
 it on his own head. At this instant, Bargally came up 
 with some assistants, and recognising the bonnet, charged 
 the farmer of Bantoberick with having robbed him, and 
 took him into custody. There being some hkeness be- 
 tween the parties, Bargally persisted in his charge, and 
 
80 WIVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 thougli the respectability of the farmer's cliaracier was 
 proved or admitted, his trial before the Circuit Court 
 came on accordingly. The fatal bonnet lay on the table 
 of the Court; Bargally swore that it was the identical 
 article worn by the man who robbed him ; and he and 
 others likewise deponed that they had found the accused 
 on the spot where the crime was committed, with the 
 bonnet on his head. The case looked gloomily for the 
 prisoner, and the opinion of the judge seemed unfavour- 
 able. But there was a person in Court who knew well 
 both who did, and who did not, commit the crime. This 
 was the Caird of Barulhon, who, thrusting himself up to 
 the bar, near the place where Bargally was standing, sud- 
 denly seized on the bonnet, put it on his head, and looking 
 the Laird full in the face, asked him, with a voice which 
 attracted the attention of the Court and crowded audi- 
 ence, — " Look at me, sir, and tell me, by the oath you 
 have sworn — Am not / the man who robbed you between 
 Carsphairn and Dalmellington ? " Bargally replied, in 
 great astonishment, " By Heaven ! you are the very 
 man." — " You see what sort of memory this gentleman 
 has," said the volunteer pleader : " he swears to the 
 bonnet, whatever features are under it. If you yourself, 
 my Lord, will put it on your head, he will be willing to 
 swear that your Lordship was the party who robbed him 
 between Carsphairn and Dalmellington." The tenant 
 of Bantoberick was unanimously acquitted, and thus 
 Wilhe Marshal ingeniously contrived to save an innocent 
 man from danger, without incurring any himself, since 
 Bargally's evidence must have seemed to every one too 
 fluctuating to be rehed upon. 
 
 While the King of the Gipsies was thus laudably oc- 
 cupied, his royal consort, Flora, contrived, it is said, to 
 
GUT MANNERING. 31 
 
 steal the hood from the Judge's gown ; foi whith offence, 
 combined with her presumptive guilt as a gipsy, she was 
 banished to New England, whence she never returned. 
 
 Now, I cannot grant that the idea of Meg MerriUes 
 was, in the first concoction of the character, derived from 
 Flora Marshal, seeing I have already said she vas iden- 
 tified with Jean Gordon, au d as I have not the Laird of 
 Bargall/s apology for chiirging the same fact on two 
 several individuals. Yet I am quite content that Meg 
 should be considered as a representative of her sect and 
 class in general — Flora, as weU as others. 
 
 The other instances in which my Gallovidian readers 
 have obHged me, by assigning to 
 
 airy nothings 
 
 A local habitation and a name, 
 
 shall also be sanctioned so far as the Author may be en- 
 titled to do so. I think the facetious Joe IVIiller, records 
 a case pretty much in point ; where the keeper of a 
 Museum, while showing, as he said, the very sword with 
 which Balaam was about to kiQ his ass, was interrupted 
 by one of the visitors, who reminded him that Balaam 
 was not possessed of a sword, but only wished for one. 
 " True, sir," replied the ready-witted Cicerone ; " but 
 this is the very sword he wished for." The Author, in 
 appHcation of this story, has only to add, that, though 
 ignorant of the coincidence between the fictions of the 
 tale and some real circumstances, he is contented to 
 beheve he must unconsciously have thought or dreamed 
 of the last, whUe engaged in the composition of Guy 
 Mannering. 
 
32 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 GROUNDWORK OF GUY MANNERING. 
 
 1842. 
 
 Since the death of Sir Walter Scott, the public have 
 received many additional details concerning the commu- 
 nications that passed, while the Waverley Novels were in 
 progress, between their Author and his devoted friend, 
 Mi\ Joseph Train, Supervisor of Excise at Castle 
 Douglas in Galloway. Not the least curious of these 
 particulars connects itself with the origin of Guy Man- 
 nering. Shortly after the publication of Waverley, as 
 stated in the Life of Scott, Mr. Train forwarded to 
 Abbotsford a MS. collection of anecdotes relating to the 
 Galloway gipsies, together with (in Mr. Train's own 
 words) " a local story of an astrologer, who, calling at a 
 farm-house at the minute when the good-wife was in 
 travail, had, it was said, predicted the future fortunes of 
 the child almost in the words placed in the mouth of 
 John MacKinlay in the Introduction to Guy Man- 
 cering." 
 
 At a subsequent period JSIr. Train found that an 
 ancient lady, j\Irs. Young of Castle Douglas, had been 
 in the habit of repeating once every year to her family, 
 in order the better to preserve it in her own memory, a 
 ballad called The Durham Garland; from which, or 
 some Scotch modification of it, he was inclined to con- 
 
GUY MANXERma. 33 
 
 elude that both his own " local story," and that told to 
 Scott by MacKinlay must have been derived. This 
 Garland, as taken down from Mrs. Young's recitation by 
 Train, shall now be appended ; but it appears very prob- 
 able that the ballad itself, and the stories both of Train 
 and MacKinlay, all sprung from one and the same 
 authentic source— namely, the romantic history of James 
 Annesley, claimant in 1743 of the L*ish peerage of 
 Anglesey ; of which history Smollett gave a very strik- 
 ing sketch in his Peregrine Pickle. An abstract of the 
 Annesley c^se was pubHshed in the Gentleman's Mag- 
 azine for 1840 : and that paper also is subjoined. 
 
 THE DURHAM GARLAND. 
 
 IN THREE PARTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 1. 
 
 A worthy lord of birth and state, 
 Who did in Durham live of late — 
 But I will not declare his name, 
 By reason of his birth and fame — 
 
 2. 
 This Lord he did a hunting go; 
 If you the truth of all would know, 
 He had indeed a noble train, 
 Of Lords and Knights and Gentlemen. 
 
 3. 
 
 This noble Lord he left the train 
 Of Lords and Knights and Gentlemen; 
 And hearing not the honi to blow, 
 He could not tell which way to go. 
 vou in. 8 
 
34 "WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 4. 
 Bnt he did wander to and fro, 
 Being weary, likewise full of woe: 
 At last Dame Fortune was so kind 
 That he the Keeper's house did find. 
 
 5. 
 He went and knocked at the door, 
 He thought it was so late an hour. 
 The Forester did let him in, 
 And kindly entertamed him. 
 
 About the middle of the night, 
 When as the stars did shine most bri^it, 
 The Lord was in a sad surprise, 
 Being wakened by a fearful noise. 
 
 7. 
 Then he did rise and call with speed. 
 To know the reason then indeed 
 Of all that shrieking and those cries 
 Which did disturb his weary eyes. 
 
 " I'm sorry, Sir," the Keeper said, 
 " That you should be so much afraid; 
 But I do hope all will be well. 
 For my wife she is in travail." 
 
 The noble Lord was learned and vise 
 To know the Planets in the skies ; 
 He saw one evU Planet reign : 
 He called the Forester again. 
 
 10. 
 He gave him then to understand. 
 He'd have the Midwife hold her hand; 
 But he was answered by the maid, 
 " My mistress is delivered." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 35 
 
 11. 
 At one o'clock that very morn, 
 A lovely infant there was born ; 
 It was indeed a charming boy, 
 Which brought the man and wife much joy. 
 
 12. 
 
 The Loi A was generous, kind, and free, 
 And proffered Godfather to be; 
 The Goodman thanked him heartily 
 For his goodwill and courtesy. 
 
 13. 
 
 A parson was sent for with speed, 
 For to baptize the child indeed ; 
 And after that, as I heard say. 
 In mirth and joy they spent the day. 
 
 14. 
 
 This Lord did noble presents give, 
 Which all the servants did receive. 
 They prayed God to enrich his store, 
 For they never had so much before. 
 
 15. 
 
 And likewise to the child he gave 
 A present noble, rich, and brave ; 
 It was a charming cabinet. 
 That was with pearls and jewels set. 
 
 16. 
 
 And within it was a chain of gold, 
 Would dazzle eyes for to behold ; 
 A richer gift, as I may say. 
 Was not beheld this many a day. 
 
 17. 
 
 He charged his father faithfully. 
 That he himself would keep the key, 
 Until the child could write and read; 
 And then to give him it indeed: 
 
36 WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 18. 
 " Pray do not open it at all, 
 "Whatever should on you befall; 
 For it may do my Godson good, 
 K it be rightly understood." 
 
 19. 
 This Lord did not declare his name, 
 Nor yet the place from whence he came 
 But secretly he did depart, 
 And left them grieved to the heart. 
 
 PAET n. 
 1. 
 The second part I now unfold, 
 As true a story as e'er -^vas told, 
 Concerning of a lovely child, 
 Who was obedient, sweet, and mild. 
 
 2. 
 
 This child did take his learning so, 
 If you the tnith of all would know, 
 At eleven years of age indeed 
 Both Greek and Latin he could read- 
 
 Then thinking of his cabinet, 
 That was with pearls and jewels set. 
 He asked his father for the key, 
 Which he gave him right speedily; 
 
 And when he did the same unlock. 
 He was with great amazement struck 
 When he the riches did behold, 
 And likewise saw the chain of gold. 
 
 5. 
 But searching farther he did find 
 A paper which disturbed his mind, 
 That was within the cabinet : 
 In Greek and Latin it was writ. 
 
GUY MANN ERIN a. 37 
 
 My child, serve God that is on high, 
 And pray to him incessantly ; 
 Obey your parents, love your king, 
 Thai notliaig may your conscience sting. 
 
 7. 
 At seven years hence your, fate will be, 
 You must be hanged upon a tree ; 
 Then pray to God both night and day, 
 To let that hour pass away. 
 
 When he these woeful Hues did read, 
 He with a sigh did say indeed, 
 " If hanging be my destiny, 
 My parents shall not see me die ; 
 
 For I will wander to and fro, 
 I'll go where I no one do know ; 
 But first I'll ask my parents' leave, 
 In hopes their blessing to receive." 
 
 10. 
 Then locking up his cabinet, 
 He went from his own chamber straight 
 Unto his only parents dear. 
 Beseeching them with many a tear 
 
 11. 
 
 That they would grant what he would have : 
 " But first your blessing I do crave. 
 And beg you'll let me go away; 
 'TwiU do me good another day." 
 
 12. 
 * * * * * 
 
 ***** 
 
 " And if I live I will return. 
 
 When seven years are past and gone." 
 
38 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 13. 
 
 Both man and wife did then reply, 
 
 " I fear, my son, that we shall die ; 
 
 If we should yield to let you go, 
 
 Our aged hearts wouiw break with woe." 
 
 14. 
 
 But he entreated eagerly, 
 While they were forced to comply, 
 And give consent to let him go, 
 But where, alas ! they did not know. 
 
 15. 
 
 In the third pait you soon shall find, 
 That fortune was to him most kind, 
 And after many dangers past, 
 He came to Durham at the last. 
 
 PART m. 
 1. 
 
 He went by chance as I heard say, 
 To that same house that very day. 
 In which his Godfather did dwell ; 
 But mind what luck to him befell ; — 
 
 2. 
 This child did crave a service there, 
 On which came out his Godfather, 
 And seeing him a pretty youth, 
 He took him for his page in truth. 
 
 Then in this place he pleased so well, 
 That 'bove the rest he bore the bell ; 
 This child so well the Lord did please, 
 He raised him higher by degrees. 
 
 4. 
 He made him Butler sure indood. 
 And then his Steward with all speed, 
 Which made the other servants spite 
 And envy him both day and night. 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 39 
 
 5. 
 
 He was never false unto his trust, 
 But proved ever true and just ; 
 And to the Lord did hourly pray- 
 To guide him stiU both uight and day. 
 
 In this place plainly it appears, 
 He lived the space of seven years; 
 His parents then he thought upon, 
 And of his promise to return. 
 
 7. 
 Then humbly of his Lord did crave, 
 That he his free consent might have 
 To go and see his parents dear, 
 He had not seen for many a year. 
 
 Then having leave, away he went. 
 Not di-eaming of the false intent 
 That was contrived against him then, 
 By wicked, false, deceitful men. 
 
 They had in his portmanteau put 
 This noble Lord's fine golden cup ; 
 That when the Lord at dinner was. 
 The cup was missed as come to pass. 
 
 10. 
 " Where can it be? " this Lord did say; 
 " We had it here but yesterday." 
 The Butler then replied with speed, 
 " If you win hear the truth indeed, 
 
 11. 
 " Your darling Steward which is gone. 
 With feathered nest away is flown ; 
 I'll warrant you he has that, and more 
 That doth belong unto your store." 
 
40 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 12. 
 
 " No," says the Lord, " that cannot be, 
 For I have tried his honesty; " 
 " Then," said the Cook, " my Lord, I die 
 Upon a tree full ten feet high." 
 
 13. 
 Then hearing what these men did say 
 He sent a messenger that day. 
 To take him with a hue and cry, 
 And bring him back immediately. 
 
 14. 
 
 They searched his portmanteau with speed. 
 In which they found the cup indeed; 
 Then was he struck with sad surprise, 
 He could not well believe his eyes. 
 
 15. 
 The assizes then were drawing nigh. 
 And he was tried and doomed to die; 
 And his injured innocence 
 Could nothing say in his defence. 
 
 16. 
 But going to the gallows tree, 
 On which he thought to hanged be, 
 He clapped his hands upon his breast, 
 And thus in tears these words exprest. 
 
 17. 
 " Blind Fortune will be Fortime still, 
 I see, let man do what he will ; 
 For though this day I needs must die, 
 I am not guilty — no, not I." 
 
 18. 
 This noble Lord was in amaze, 
 He stood and did with wonder gaze ; 
 Then he spoke out with words so mild, — 
 " What mean you by that saying, child? " 
 
GUI MANNERING. 41 
 
 19. 
 
 " Will tliat your Lordship," then said he, 
 " Grant one day's full reprieve for me, 
 A dismal story I'll relate, 
 Concerning of my wretched fate." 
 
 20. 
 
 " Speak up, my child," this Lord did say, 
 " I say you shall not die this day ; 
 And if I find you innocent, 
 I'll crown your days with sweet content." 
 
 21. 
 
 He told him all his dangers past, 
 He had gone through from first to last ; 
 He fetched the chain and cabinet. 
 Likewise the paper that was writ. 
 
 When that this Noble Lord did see, 
 He ran to him most eagerly, 
 And in his arms did him embrace. 
 Repeating of those words in haste : — 
 
 23. 
 " My child, my child, how blest am I ! 
 Thou art innocent, and shalt not die ; 
 For I'm indeed thy Godfather, 
 And thou wast bom in fair Yorkshire. 
 
 24. 
 " I have indeed one daughter dear, 
 Which is indeed my only heir; 
 And I will give her unto thee, 
 And crown you with felicity." 
 
 So then the Butler and the Cook 
 ('Twas them that stole the golden cup) 
 Confessed their faults immediately, 
 And for it died deservedly. 
 
42 
 
 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 This goodly youth, as I do hear, 
 Thus raised, sent for his parents deta", 
 Who did rejoice their child to see, — 
 And so I end my Tragedy. 
 
aUT MANNEKING. 43 
 
 NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF JAMES 
 
 ANNESLEY. 
 
 Lord and Lady Altliam, of Dunmain, in the county 
 of Wexford, had been for many years married and child- 
 less, when, in the year 1715, their warmest hopes and 
 wishes were realized by the birth of an heir to their 
 estates and title. On that joyful evening the hospitahty 
 of the house of Dunmain was claimed by a young gen- 
 tleman travelling from Dublin, named " Master Richard 
 Fitzgerald," who joined Lord Altham and his household 
 in diinking the healths of the " lady in the straw," and 
 the long expected heir, in the customary groaning drink. 
 It does not appear that Master Fitzgerald was learned 
 in astrology, or practised any branch of the " Black art," 
 or that he used any spell with reference to the infant 
 more potent than these hearty libations and sincere good 
 wishes for his future prosperity. Next day, before leav- 
 mg the hospitable mansion, the little hero of this tale was 
 presented to the stranger, who " kissed him, and gave the 
 nurse half-a-guinea." 
 
 Of Fitzgerald we have only to add, that he entered 
 the army and became a distinguished officer in the ser- 
 vice of the queen of Hungary, and that twenty-eight 
 years afterwards he returned to Ireland to assist in re- 
 wvering for his former infantile friend the estates and 
 
44 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 titles of liis ancestors, wliicli had been for many years 
 iniquitouslj witliheld from him. 
 
 Lord and Lady Altham lived unhappily together, and 
 a separation took place soon after the birth of their son. 
 Her Ladyship, shamefully neglected by her husband, 
 resided in England during the remainder of her life, and 
 from disease and poverty was reduced to a state of ex- 
 treme imbecility both of body and mind. 
 
 James Annesley, the infant son of this unhappy mother, 
 was entrusted, by Lord Altham, to the charge of a woman 
 of indifferent character, named Joan or Juggy Landy. 
 Juggy was a dependent of the family, and lived in a 
 cabin on the estate, about a quarter of a mile from the 
 house of Dunmain. This hut is described as a " despi- 
 cable place, without any furniture except a pot, two or 
 three trenchers, a couple of straw beds on the floor," and 
 **• with only a bush to di-aw in and out for a door." Thus 
 humbly and inauspiciously was the boy reared under the 
 care of a nurse, who, however unfortunate or guilty, 
 appears to have lavished upon her young charge the 
 most affectionate attention. From some unexplained 
 cause, however, Juggy Landy incurred the displeasure 
 of Lord Altham, who took the boy from her, and ordered 
 his groom " to horsewhip her," and " to set the dogs upon 
 her," when she persisted in hovering about the premises 
 to obtain a sight of her former charge. 
 
 Lord Altham now removed with his son to Dublin, 
 where he appears to have entered upon a career of the 
 most dissipated and profligate conduct. We find him 
 reduced to extreme pecuniary embarrassment, and his 
 property became a prey to low and abandoned associates ; 
 one of whom, a Miss Kennedy, he ultimately endeavoured 
 to introduce to society as his wife. This worthless woman 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 45 
 
 must have obtained great ascendency over his Lordship, 
 as she was enabled to drive James Annesley from his 
 father's protection, and the poor boy became a houseless 
 vagabond, wandering about the streets of DubHn, and 
 procuring a scanty and precarious subsistence " by run- 
 ning of errands and holding gentlemen's horses." 
 
 Meanwhile Lord Altham's pecuniary difficulties had so 
 increased as to mduce him to endeavour to borrow 
 money on his reversionary interest in the estates of the 
 Earl of Anglesey, to whom he was heir-at-law. Li this 
 scheme he was jomed by his brother. Captain Annesley, 
 and they jointly succeeded in procuring several small 
 sums of money. But as James Annesley would have 
 proved an important legal impediment to these transac- 
 tions, he was represented to some parties to be dead ; and 
 where his existence could not be denied, he was asserted 
 to be the natural son of his Lordship and of Juggy 
 Landy. 
 
 Lord Altham died in the year 1727, " so miserably 
 poor that he was actually buried at the public expense." 
 His brother. Captain Annesley, attended the funeral as 
 chief-mourner, and assumed the title of Baron Altham ; 
 but when he claimed to have this title registered, he was 
 refused by the king-at-arais, " on account of his nephew 
 being reported still alive, and for want of the honorary 
 fees." Ultimately, however, by means which are stated 
 to liave been "well known and obvious," he succeeded in 
 procuring his registration. 
 
 But there was another and a more sincere mourner at 
 the funeral of Lord Altham than the successful inheritor 
 of his title : — a poor boy of twelve years of age, half 
 naked, bareheaded and barefooted, and wearing, as the 
 most important part of his dress, an old yellow livery 
 
4:6 WAVERLEY NOV^^.S. 
 
 waistcoat,* followed at a humble distance, and wept o\ er 
 his father's grave. Young Annesley was speedily rer>.og- 
 nised by his uncle, who forcibly drove him from the place, 
 but not before the boy had made himself known to several 
 old servants of his father, who were attending the corpse 
 of their late lord to the tomb. 
 
 The usurper now commenced a series of attempts tc 
 obtain possession of his nephew's person, for the purpose 
 of transporting him beyond seas, or otherwise ridding 
 himself of so formidable a rival. For . some time, 
 however, these endeavours w^ere frustrated, principally 
 through the gallantry of a brave and kind-hearted 
 butcher, named Purcel, who, having compassion upon 
 the boy's destitute state, took him into his house an(? 
 hospitably maintained him for a considerable time ; an(J 
 on one occasion, w^hen he was assailed by a numerous 
 party of his uncle's emissaries, Purcel placed the boy 
 between his legs, and stoutly defending him with hir 
 cudgel, resisted their utmost efforts, and succeeded 'u> 
 rescuing his young charge. 
 
 After havmg escaped from many attempts of the same 
 kind, Annesley was at length kidnapped in the streets of 
 Dublin, dragged by his uncle and a party of hired ruffians 
 to a boat, and carried on board a vessel in the river, 
 which immediately sailed with our hero for America, 
 where, on his arrival, he was apprenticed as a plantation 
 slave, and in this condition he remained for the succeed- 
 ing thirteen years. 
 
 During his absence his uncle, on the demise of the Earl 
 of Anglesey, quietly succeeded to that title and immense 
 wealth. 
 
 * Vide " Green Breeks" in the General Introduction to the Waver- 
 ley Novels. Surely Yellow Waistcoat was his prototype 
 
GUY MANN ERIN G. 47 
 
 Wliile forcibly detained in the plantations, Annesley 
 eufFered many severe hardships and privations, particu- 
 arly in his frequent unsuccessful attempts to escape. 
 Among other incidents which befell him, he incurred the 
 deadly hatred of one master, in consequence of a sus- 
 pected intrigue with his wife, — a charge from which he 
 was afterwards honourably acquitted. The daughter of a 
 second master became affectionately attached to him ; but 
 it does not appear that this regard was reciprocal. And 
 finally, in effecting his escape, he fell into the hands of 
 some hostile negroes, who stabbed him severely in various 
 places ; from the effects of which cruelty he did not re- 
 cover for several months. 
 
 At the end of thirteen years, Annesley, who had now 
 attained the age of twenty-five, succeeded in reaching 
 Jamaica in a merchant vessel, and he immediately volun- 
 teered himself as a private sailor on board a man-of-war. 
 Here he was at once identified by several ofiicers ; and 
 Admiral Vernon, who was then in command of the 
 British West India fleet, wrote home an account of the 
 case to the Duke of Newcastle, (the Premier,) and, " in 
 the mean time, supplied him with clothes and money, and 
 treated him with the respect and attention which his rank 
 demanded." 
 
 The Earl of Anglesey no sooner heard of these trans- 
 actions on board the fleet,. than he used every effort to 
 keep possession of his usurped title and property, and 
 " the most eminent lawyers within the English and Irish 
 bars were retained to defend a cause, the prosecution of 
 which was not as yet even threatened." 
 
 On Annesley's arrival in Dublin, " several servants 
 who had lived with his father came from the country to 
 see him. They knew him at first sight, and some o- 
 
48 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 lliem fell on their knees to thank Heaven for his pres- 
 ervation, embraced his legs, and shed tears of joj for his 
 return." 
 
 Lord Anglesey became so much alarmed at the prob- 
 able result of the now threatened trial, that he expressed 
 his intention to make a compromise with the claimant, 
 renounce the title, and retire into France ; and with this 
 view he commenced learning the French language. But 
 this resolution was given up, in consequence of an occur- 
 rence which encouraged the flattering hope that his 
 opponent would be speedily and most effectually dis- 
 posed of. 
 
 After his arrival in England, Annesley unfortunately 
 occasioned the death of a man by the accidental discharge 
 of a fowling-piece which he was in the act of carrying. 
 Though there could not exist a doubt of his innocence 
 from all intention of such a deed, the circumstance offered 
 toe good a chance to be lost sight of by his uncle, who 
 (employed an attorney named Gifford, and with his assist- 
 ance used every effort at the coroner's inquest and the 
 subsequent trial to bring about a verdict of murder. In 
 this, however, he did not succeed, although " he practised 
 all the unfair means that could be invented to procure 
 the removal of the prisoner to Newgate from the healthy 
 gaol to which he had been at first committed ; " and " the 
 Earl even appeared in person on the bench, endeavouring 
 to inti!nidate and browbeat the witnesses, and to inveigle 
 the prisoner into destructive confessions." Annesley was 
 honourably acquitted, after his uncle had expended nearly 
 one thousand pounds on the prosecution. 
 
 The trial between James Annesley, Esq., and Richard 
 Earl of Anglesey, before the Right Honourable the Lord 
 Chief-Justice and other Barons of the Exchequer, com- 
 
GUr MAKNERING. 49 
 
 toenced on the llth November 1743, and wa3 continued 
 for thirteen days. The defendant's counsel examined an 
 immense number of witnesses, in an attempt to prove 
 that Annesley was the illegitimate son of the late Baron 
 Altham. The Jury found for the plaintiff; but it did not 
 prove sufficient to recover his title and estates ; for his 
 tinole " had recourse to every device the law allowed, and 
 Lis powerful interest procured a writ of error which set 
 aside the verdict." Before another trial could be brought 
 about, Annesley died without male issue, and Lord 
 Anglesey consequently remained in undisturbed pos- 
 session. 
 
 It is presumed that the points of resemblance between 
 the leading incidents in the life of this unfortunate young 
 nobleman and the adventures of Henry Bertram in " Guy 
 Mannering," are so evident as to require neither com- 
 ment nor enumeration to make them apparent to the 
 most cursory reader of the NoveL The addition of a 
 very few other circumstances wUl, it is believed, amount 
 to a proof of the identity of the two stories. 
 
 The names of many of the witnesses examined at the 
 trial have been appropriated — generally with some slight 
 alteration, to characters in the novel. Among others, 
 one of them is named Henry Brown, while Henry Ber- 
 tram, alias Vanbeest Brown, is the hero of the story. 
 An Irish priest was examined, named Ahel Butler, while 
 we find Abel Sampson in " Guy Mannering," and 
 Reuben Butler in the " Heart of Mid-Lothian," — all 
 three corresponding in profession as in name. Gifford 
 and Glossin, although somewhat alike in patronymic, re- 
 semble each other still more in character and the abuse 
 of their common profession. Gifford had an associate iu 
 
 VOL. III. 4 
 
50 A^TAYERLEY NOA''ELS. 
 
 iniquity named " Jans," wliile " Jans Jansen " is the 
 alias assumed by Glossin's accomplice Dirk Hatteraick. 
 Again, we find Aiihur Lord Altham and Mr. MacMullan 
 in tlie history, and Arthur Melville, Esq., and Mr. Mac 
 Morlan in the fiction. Kennedy and Barnes appear unal- 
 tered in each. 
 
 A remarkable expression used by one of the witnesses 
 in r(;ference to Annesley — " He is the right heir if right 
 might take place " — ^has probably served as a hint for the 
 motto of the Bertram family — " Our right makes our 
 might." — Gentlemen^ s Magazine^ July, 1840. 
 
GUY MANNERING; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. . 
 
 He could not deny, that looking round upon the dreary region, and Beelag 
 nothing but bleak fields, and naked trees, hills obscured by fogs, and flats cov- 
 ered with inundations, he did for some time suffer melancholy to prevail upon 
 him, and wished himself again safe at home. — Travels of Will. Marvel. Idler^ 
 No. 49. 
 
 It was in tlie beginning of the month of November 
 17 — , when a young English gentleman, who had just 
 
62 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 left the university of Oxford, made use of the liberty 
 afforded him, to visit some parts of the north of England ; 
 and curiosity extended his tour into the adjacent frontier 
 of the sister country. He had visited, on the day that 
 opens our history, some monastic ruins in the county of 
 Dumfries, and spent much of the day in making di-aw- 
 ings of them from different points ; so that, on mounting 
 his horse to resume his journey, the brief and gloomy 
 t\^ilight of the season had already commenced. His way 
 lay through a wide tract of black moss, extending for 
 miles on each side and before him. Little emuiences 
 arose like islands on its surface, beariug here and there 
 patches of com, which even at this season was green, and 
 sometimes a hut or farm-house, shaded by a willow or 
 two, and surrounded by large elder-bushes. These hisu- 
 lated dwelliugs communicated with each other by wuidiag 
 passages through the moss, impassable by any but the 
 natives themselves. The public road, however, was tol- 
 erably well made and safe, so that the prospect of being 
 benighted brought with it no real danger. StiQ it is un- 
 comfortable to travel, alone and in the dark, through an 
 unknown country ; and there are few ordinary occasions 
 upon which Fancy frets herseff so much as in a situation 
 like that of Mannering. 
 
 As the light grew faint and more faint, and the morass 
 appeared blacker and blacker, our traveller questioned 
 more closely each chance passenger on his distance from 
 the village of Kippletringan, where he proposed to quar- 
 ter for the night. His queries were usually answered by 
 a counter-challenge respecting the place from whence he 
 came. While sufficient dayhght remained to show the 
 dress and appearance of a gentleman, these cross inter- 
 rogatories were usually put in the form of a case sup* 
 
GUT JIANNERING. 53 
 
 posetl, — as " Ye'll hae been at the auld abbey o* lIaljcros3, 
 sir ? there's mony EngHsh gentlemen gang to see that ; " 
 — or, " Your honour will be come frae the house o' Pou- 
 derloupat?" But when the voice of the querist alone 
 was distinguishable, the response usually was, "Where 
 are ye coming frae at sic a time o' night as the like o' 
 this ? " — or, " Ye'll no be o' this country, freend ? " Tho 
 answers, when obtained, were neither very reconcilablo 
 to each other, nor accurate in the information which they 
 afforded. Kippletringan was distant at first '' a gey hit ; " 
 then the ^^ gey hiV was more accurately described, as 
 " ahlins three mile ; " then the " three mile " diminished 
 into " iihe a mile and a hittoch ; " then extended them- 
 selves into '-^four mile or thereawa ; " and, lastly, a female 
 voice, having hushed a waiHng infant which the spokes- 
 woman carried in her arms, assured Guy Mannering, " It 
 was a weary lang gate yet to Kippletringan, and unco 
 heavy road for foot passengers." The poor hack upon 
 which Mannering was mounted, was probably of opinion 
 that it suited him as ill as the female respondent ; for he 
 began to flag very much, answered each application of 
 the spur with a groan, and stumbled at every stone (and 
 they were not few) which lay in his road. 
 
 Mannering now grew impatient. He was occasionally 
 betrayed into a deceitful hope that the end of his journey 
 was near, by the apparition of a twinkling light or two ; 
 but, as he came up, he was disappointed to find that the 
 gleams proceeded from some of those farm-houses which 
 occasionally ornamented the surface of the extensive bog. 
 At length, to complete his perplexity, he arrived at a 
 place where the road divided into two. If there had 
 b«en hght to consult the rehcs of a finger-post which 
 stood there, it would have been of Httle avail, as, accord- 
 
54 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 ing to the good custom of North Britain, the inscription 
 had been defaced shortly after its erection. Our adven- 
 turer was therefore compelled, Hke a knight-errant of old, 
 to trust to the sagacity of his horse, which, without any 
 demur, chose the left-hand path, and seemed to proceed 
 at a somewhat Uveher pace than before, affording thereby 
 a hope that he knew he was drawing near to his quarttTS 
 for the evening. This hope, however, was not speedily 
 accomphshed ; and Mannering, whose impatience made 
 every furlong seem three, began to think that Kipple- 
 tringan was actually retreating before him in proportion 
 to his advance. 
 
 It was now very cloudy, although the stars, from time 
 to time, shed a twinkling and uncertain hght. Hitherto 
 nothing had broken the silence ai-ound him, but the deep 
 cry of the bog-bhtter, or bull-of-the-bog, a large species 
 of bittern ; and the sighs of the wind as it passed along 
 the dreary morass. To these was now joined the distant 
 roar of the ocean, towards which the traveller seemed 
 to be fast approaching. This was no circumstance to 
 make his mind easy. Many of the roads in that country 
 lay along the sea-beach, and some were Hable to be 
 flooded by the tides, which rise to a great height, and 
 advance with extreme rapidity. Others were intersected 
 with creeks and small inlets, which it was only safe to 
 pass at particular times of the tide. Neither circumstance 
 would have suited a dark night, a fatigued horse, and a 
 traveller ignorant of his road. Mannering resolved, 
 therefore, definitively to halt for the night at the first 
 inhabited place, however poor, he might chance to reach, 
 unless he could procure a guide to this unlucky village 
 of Kippletringan. 
 
 A miserable hut gave him an opportunity to execute 
 
GUY MANNERING. 55 
 
 • 
 
 his purpose. He found out the door with no small diffi- 
 culty, and for some time knocked without producing any 
 other answer than a duet between a female and a cur-dog, 
 the latter yelping as if he would have barked his heart 
 out, the other screaming in chorus. By degi*ees the 
 human tones predominated ; but the angry bark of the 
 cur being at the instant changed into a howl, it is probable 
 something more than fair strength of lungs had contrib- 
 uted to the ascendency. 
 
 " Sorrow be in your thrapple then ! " — these were the 
 first articulate words, — " will ye no let me hear what the 
 man wants, wi' your yaffing ? " 
 
 " Am I far from Kippletringan, good dame ? " 
 
 " Frae Kippletringan ! ! ! " in an exalted tone of won- 
 der, which we can but faintly express by three points of 
 admiration ; " Ow, man ! ye should hae hadden eassel to 
 Kippletringan — ye maun gae back as far as the Whaap, 
 and hand the Whaap * till ye come to BaUenloan, and 
 then" 
 
 " This will never do, good dame ! my horse is almost 
 quite knocked up — can you not give me a night's lodg- 
 ings ? " 
 
 " Troth can I no ; I am a lone woman, for James he's 
 awa to Drumshourloch fair with the year-aulds, and I 
 daurna for my life open the door to ony o' your gang- 
 there-out sort o' bodies." 
 
 " But what must I do then, good dame ? for I can't 
 sleep here upon the road all night." 
 
 " Troth, I kenna, unless ye Hke to gae down and speer 
 for quarters at the Place. I'se warrant they'll tak ye 
 in, whether ye be gentle or semple." 
 
 * The Hope, often pronounced Whaap, is the sheltered part or hol- 
 low of the hill. Eoff, hoivff] haaf, and haven, are all naodificatioiis of 
 ♦^e same word. 
 
56 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 • 
 
 " Simple enougli, to be wandering here at such a time 
 of night," thought Mannering, who was ignorant of the 
 meaning of the phrase. " But how shall I get to the 
 place, as you call it ? '* 
 
 " Ye maun hand wessel by the end o' the loan, antl 
 take tent o' the jaw-hole.'* 
 
 "O, if ye get to eassel and wessel* again, I am un- 
 done ! — Is there nobody that could guide me to thia 
 place ? I will pay him handsomely." 
 
 The word pa^ operated like magic. " Jock, ye villain," 
 exclaimed the voice from the interior, " are ye lying 
 routing there, and a young gentleman seeking the way 
 to the Place ? Get up, ye fause loon, and show him the 
 way down the muckle loaning. — He'll show you the way, 
 sir, and Pse warrant ye'U be weel put up ; for they never 
 turn awa naebody frae the door ; and ye'll be come in 
 the canny moment, I'm thinking, for the laird's servant— 
 that's no to say his body-servant, but the helper like — • 
 rade express by this e'en to fetch the houdie, and he 
 just staid the drinking o' twa pints o' tippeny, to tell U3 
 how my leddy was ta'en wi' her pains." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Mannering, " at such a time a stran- 
 ger's arrival might be inconvenient ? " 
 
 " Hout, na, ye needna be blate about that ; their 
 house is muckle eneuch, and decking f time's aye canty 
 time." 
 
 By this time Jock had found his way into all the 
 inlricacies of a tattered doublet, and more tattered pair 
 of breeches, and saUied forth, a great white-headed, bare- 
 legged, lubberly boy of twelve years old, so exhibited by 
 
 * Provincial for eastward and westward, 
 t Hatching-time. 
 
GUr MANNERING. 57 
 
 the glimpse of a rushlight, which his half-naked mother 
 held m such a manner as to get a peep at the stranger 
 without greatly exposing herself to view in return. Jock 
 moved on westward, bj the end of the house, leading 
 3Iannering's horse by the bridle, and piloting, with some 
 dexterity, along the Httle path which bordered the for- 
 midable jaw-hole, whose vi ^inity the stranger was made 
 sensible of by means of more organs than one. His 
 guide then dragged the weary hack along a broken 
 and stony cart-track, next over a ploughed field, then 
 broke down a slap, as he cahed it, in a dry-stone fence, 
 and lugged the unresisting animal through the breach, 
 about a rood of the simple masonry giving way m the 
 splutter with which he passed. Finally, he led the way, 
 through a wicket, into something which had still the au' 
 of an avenue, though many of the trees were felled. The 
 roar of the ocean was now near and full, and the moon, 
 which began to make her appearance, gleamed on a tur- 
 reted, and apparently a ruined mansion, of considerable 
 extent. Mannering fixed his eyes upon it with a discon- 
 solate sensation. 
 
 " Why, my little fellow," he said, ' this is a ruin, not a 
 house ? " 
 
 " Ah, but the lairds lived there langsyne — that's Ellan- 
 gowan Auld Place ; there's a hantle bogles about it — but 
 ye needna be feared — I never saw ony mysell, and we're 
 just at the door o' the New Place." 
 
 Accordingly, leavmg the ruins on the right, a few steps 
 brought the traveller in front of a modern house of 
 moderate size, at which his guide rapped with great 
 importance. Mannering told his circumstances to the 
 servant ; and the gentleman of the house, who heard his 
 tale from the parlour, stepped forward and welcomed the 
 
58 
 
 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 stranger hospitably to Ellangowan. The boy, made 
 happy with half-a-crown, was dismissed to his cottage, 
 the weary horse was conducted to a stall, and Mannering 
 found himself in a few minutes seated by a comfortable 
 supper, for which his cold ride gave him a hearty 
 appetite. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 50 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 Comes me cranking in, 
 
 And cuts me from the best of all my land, 
 A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. 
 
 Henrt the Fourth, Part 1. 
 
 The company in the parlour at Ellangowan consisted 
 of the Laird, and a sort of person who might be the vil- 
 lage schoolmaster, or perhaps the minister's assistant; 
 his appearance was too shabby to indicate the minister, 
 considering he was on a visit to the Laird. 
 
 The Laird himself was one of those second-rate sort 
 of persons, that are to be fomid frequently in rural situa- 
 tions. Fielding has described one class as feras con- 
 sumere nati ; but the love of field-sports indicates a 
 certain activity of mind, which had forsaken Mr. Ber- 
 tram, if ever he possessed it. A good-humoured listless- 
 ness of countenance formed the only remarkable expres- 
 sion of his features, although they were rather handsome 
 than otherwise. In fact, his physiognomy indicated the 
 inanity of character which pervaded his life. I will give 
 the reader some insight into his state and conversation, 
 before he has finished a long lecture to Mannering, upon 
 the propriety and comfort of wrapping his stirrup-irons 
 round "vvith a wisp of straw when he had occasion to ride 
 'n a chill evening. 
 
 Godfrey Bertram, of Ellangowan, succeeded to a long 
 
60 WATERLET NOVELS. 
 
 pedigree and a short rent-roll, like many lairds of that 
 period. His list of forefathers ascended so high, that 
 they were lost in 'the barbarous ages of Galwegian inde- 
 pendence ; so that his genealogical tree, besides the 
 Chi'istian and crusading names of Godfreys, and Gilberts, 
 and Dennises, and Eolands without end, bore heathen 
 fruit of yet darker ages, — Arths, and Knarths, and Dona- 
 gilds, and Hanlons. In truth, they had been formerly 
 the stormy chiefs of a desert but extensive domain, and 
 the heads of a numerous tribe, called Mac-Dingawaie, 
 though they afterwards adopted the Norman surname of 
 Bertram. They had made war, raised rebellions, been 
 defeated, beheaded, and hanged, as became a family of 
 importance, for many centuries. But they had gradually 
 lost gi'ound in the world, and, from being themselves the 
 heads of treason and traitorous conspiracies, the Bertrams, 
 or Mac-Dingawaies, of Ellangowan, had sunk into sub- 
 ordinate accomphces. Their most fatal exhibitions in 
 this capacity took place in the seventeenth century, when 
 the foul fiend possessed them with a spirit of contradic- 
 tion, which uniformly involved them in controversy with 
 the ruling powers. They reversed the conduct of the 
 celebitited Yicar of Bray, and adhered as tenaciously to 
 the weaker side, as that worthy divine to the stronger. 
 And truly, like him, they had their reward. 
 
 Allan Bertram of Ellangowan, who flourished tem'pore 
 Caroli Primi, was, says my authority, Sir Robert Doug- 
 las, in his Scottish Baronage, (see the title Ellangowan,) 
 " a steady loyalist and full of zeal for the cause of hia 
 Sacred Majesty, in which he united with the great Mar- 
 quis of Montrose, and other truly zealous and honourable 
 patriots, and sustained great losses in that behalf. He 
 had the honour of knighthood conferred upon him by hia 
 
GTJT MANNEKING. 61 
 
 Most Sacred Majesty, and was sequestrated as a malig- 
 nant by tlie parliament 1 642, and afterwards as a resolu- 
 tioner in. the year 1648." — These two cross-grained 
 epithets of malignant and resolutioner cost poor Sir 
 Allan one half of the family estate. His son Dennis 
 Bertram married a daughter of an eminent fanatic, who 
 had a seat in the council of state, and saved by that union 
 the remainder of the family property. But, as ill chance 
 would have it, he became enamoured of the lady's prin- 
 ciples as well as of her charms, and my author gives him 
 this character : " He was a man of eminent parts and 
 resolution, for which reason he was chosen by the west- 
 ern counties one of the committee of noblemen and 
 gentlemen, to report their griefs to the privy council of 
 Charles H. anent the coming in of the Highland host in 
 1678." For undertaking this patriotic task he underwent 
 a fine, to pay which he was obliged to mortgage half of 
 the remaining moiety of his paternal property. This 
 loss he might have recovered by dint of severe economy, 
 but on the breaking out of Argyle's rebellion, Dennis 
 Bertram was again suspected by Government, appre- 
 hended, sent to Dunnotar Castle, on the coast of the 
 Mearns, and there broke his neck in an attempt to escape 
 from a subterranean habitation called the Whig's Vault, 
 in which he was confined with some eighty of the same 
 persuasion. The apprizer, therefore, (as the holder of a 
 mortgage was then called,) entered upon possession, and, 
 in the language of Hotspur, " came me cranking in," and 
 cut the family out of another monstrous cantle of their 
 remaining property. 
 
 Donohoe Bertram, with somewhat of an Irish name, 
 and somewhat of an Irish temper, succeeded to the dimin- 
 ished property of EUangowan. He turned out of doors 
 
62 -WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the Rev. j^aron Maebriar, his mother's chaplain, (it is 
 said they quarrelled about the good graces of a milkmaid,) 
 drank himself daily drunk with brimming healths to the 
 king, council, and bishops ; held orgies with the Laird of 
 Lagg, Theophilus Oglethorpe, and Sir James Turner; 
 and lastly, took his grey gelding, and joined Clavers at 
 Killiecrankie. At the skirmish of Dunk eld, 1689, he 
 was shot dead by a Cameronian with a silver button, 
 (being supposed to have proof from the Evil One against 
 lead and steel,) and his grave is still called the " Wi.ked 
 Laird's Lair." 
 
 His son, Lewis, had more prudence than seems usually 
 to have belonged to the family. He nursed what prop- 
 erty was yet left to him ; for Donohoe's excesses, as well 
 as fines and forfeitures, had made another inroad upon 
 the estate. And although even he did not escape the 
 fatality which induced the Lairds of Ellangowan to inter- 
 fere with politics, he had yet the prudence, ere he went 
 out with Lord Kenmore in 1715, to convey his estate to 
 trustees, in order to parry pains and penalties, in case 
 the Earl of Mar could not put down the Protestant suc- 
 cession. But Scylla and Charybdis — a word to the wise 
 — ^he only saved his estate at the expense of a lawsuit, 
 which again subdivided the family property. He was, 
 however, a man of resolution. He sold part of the lands, 
 evacuated the old castle, where the family lived in their 
 decadence, as a mouse (said an old farmer) lives under a 
 firlot. Pulling down part of these venerable ruins, he 
 built with the stones a narrow house of three stories high, 
 with a front like a grenadier's cap, having in the very 
 centre a round window, like the single eye of a Cyclops, 
 two windows on each side, and a door in the middle, 
 leading to a parlour and withdrawing room, full of all 
 manner of cross lights. 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 63 
 
 This was the New Place of Ellangowan, in wHch we 
 left our hero, better amused perhaps than our readers, 
 and to this Lewis Bertram retreated, full of projects for 
 re-establishing the prosperity of his family. He took 
 tfome land into his own hand, rented some from neigh- 
 bouring proprietors, bought and sold Highland cattle and 
 Cheviot sheep, rode to fairs and trysts, fought hard bar- 
 gains, and held necessity at the staff's end as well as he 
 might. But what he gained in purse he lost in honour, for 
 such agricultural and commercial negotiations were veiy 
 ill looked upon by his brother lairds, who minded nothing 
 but cock-fighting, hunting, coursing, and horse-racing, 
 with now and then the alternation of a desperate duel. 
 The occupations which he followed encroached, in their 
 opinion, upon the article of Ellangowan's gentry ; and he 
 found it necessary gradually to estrange himself from 
 their society, and sink into what was then a very am- 
 biguous character, a gentleman farmer. In the midst of 
 his schemes, death claimed his tribute ; and the scanty 
 remains of a large property descended upon Godfrey 
 Bertram, the present possessor, his only son. 
 
 The danger of the father's speculations was soon seen. 
 Deprived of Laird Lewis's personal and active superin- 
 tendence, all his undertakings miscarried, and became 
 either abortive or perilous. Without a single spark of 
 energy to meet or repel these misfortunes, Godfrey put 
 his fmth in the activity of another. He kept neither 
 hunters, nor hounds, nor any other southern preliminaries 
 to ruin ; but, as has been observed of his countrymen, he 
 kept a man of business, who answered the purpose equally 
 well. Under this gentleman's supervision small debts 
 grew into large, interests were accumulated upon capi- 
 tals, moveable bonds became heritable, and law charges 
 
64 WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 were heaped upon all ; though EUangowan possessed so 
 little the spirit of a litigant, that he was on two occasiona 
 charged to make payment of the expenses of a long law- 
 suit, although he had never before heard that he had 
 such cases in court. Meanwhile his neighbours predicted 
 his final ruin. Those of the higher rank, with some 
 malignity, accounted him already a degraded brother. 
 The lower classes, seeing nothing enviable in his situa- 
 tion, marked his embarrassments with more compassion. 
 He was even a kind of favourite with them, and upon 
 the division of a common, or the holding of a black- 
 fishing or poaching-court, or any similar occasion, when 
 they conceived themselves oppressed by the gentry, they 
 were in the habit of saying to each other, " Ah, if EUan- 
 gowan, honest man, had his ain that his forbears had 
 afore him, he wadna see the puir folk trodden down this 
 gait." Meanwhile, this general good opinion never pre- 
 vented their taking advantage of him on all possible 
 occasions — turning their cattle into his parks, stealing his 
 wood, shooting his game, and so forth, " for the Laird, 
 honest man, he'll never find it, — he never minds what a 
 puir body does." — Pedlars, gipsies, tinkers, vagrants of 
 all descriptions, roosted about his outhouses, or harboured 
 in his kitchen ; and the Laird, who was " nae nice body," 
 but a thorough gossip, like most weak men, found recom- 
 pense for his hospitality in the pleasure of questioning 
 them on the news of the country side. 
 
 A circumstance ai-rested EUangowan's progress on the 
 high road to ruin. This was his marriage with a lady 
 who had a portion of about four thousand pounds. No- 
 body in the neighbourhood could conceive why she 
 married him, and endowed him with her wealth, unless 
 because he had a tall, handsome figure, a good set of 
 
GUT MAJfNEKING. 65 
 
 features, a genteel address, and a most perfect good 
 humour. It might be some additional consideration, that 
 she was herself at the reflecting age of twenty-eight, and 
 had no near relations to control her actions or choice. 
 
 It was in this lady's behalf (confined for the first time 
 after her marriage) that the speedy and active express, 
 mentioned by the old dame of the cottage, had been 
 dei'patched to Kippletringan on the night of Mannering's 
 arrival. 
 
 Though we have said so much of the Laird himself, it 
 still remains that we make the reader in some degree 
 acquainted with his companion. This was Abel Samp- 
 son, commonly called, from his occupation as a pedagogue, 
 Dominie Sampson. He was of low birth, but having 
 evinced, even from his cradle, an uncommon seriousness 
 of disposition, the poor parents were encouraged to hope 
 that their hairn, as they expressed it, " might wag his 
 pow in a pulpit yet." With an ambitious view to such a 
 consummation, they pinched and pared, rose early and 
 lay down late, ate dry bread and drank cold water, to 
 secure to Abel the means of learning. Meantime, his 
 tall ungainly figure, his taciturn and grave manners, and 
 some grotesque habits of swinging his limbs, and screw- 
 ing his visage while reciting his task, made poor Sampson 
 the ridicule of all his school-companions. The same 
 qualities secured him at Glasgow college a plentiful share 
 of the same sort of notice. Half the youthful mob of 
 " the yards " used to assemble regularly to see Dominie 
 Sampson (for he had already attained that honourable 
 title) descend the stairs from the Greek class, with his 
 Lexicon under his arm, his long misshapen legs sprawling 
 abroad, and keeping awkward time to the play of his 
 immense shoulder blades, as they raised and depressed 
 
66 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 tlie loose and threadbare black coat wbicli was his con- 
 stant and only wear. When he spoke, the efforts of the 
 professor (professor of divinity though he was) were 
 totally inadequate to restrain the inextinguishable laugh- 
 ter of the students, and sometimes even to repress his 
 own. The long, sallow visage, the goggle eyes, the huge 
 under-jaw, whicn appeared not to open and shut by an 
 act of volition, but to be dropped and hoisted up again by 
 some complicated machinery within the inner man, — the 
 harsh and dissonant voice, and the screech-owl notes to 
 which it was exalted when he was exhorted to pronounce 
 more distinctly, — all added fresh subject for mirth to the 
 torn cloak and shattered shoe, which have afforded legit- 
 imate subjects of raillery against the poor scholar, from 
 Juvenal's time downward. It was never known that 
 Sampson either exhibited irritability at this ill usage, or 
 made the least attempt to retort upon his tormentors. 
 He slunk from college by the most secret paths he could 
 discover, and plunged himseff into his miserable lodging, 
 where, for eighteen-pence a-week, he was allowed the 
 benefit of a straw mattress, and, if his landlady was in 
 good humour, permission to study his task by her fire. 
 Under all these disadvantages, he obtained a competent 
 knowledge of Greek and Latin, and some acquaintance 
 with the sciences. 
 
 In progress of time, Abel Sampson, probationer of 
 divinity, was- admitted to the privileges of a preacher. 
 But, alas ! partly from his own bashfuhiess, partly owing 
 to a strong and obvious disposition to risibility, which 
 pervaded the congregation upon his first attempt, he 
 became totally incapable of proceeding in his intended 
 discourse — gasped, grinned, hideously rolled his eyes till 
 the congregation thought them flying out of his head— 
 
GUT MANNERmG. 67 
 
 shut llie Bible — stumbled down the pulpit-stairs, tramp- 
 ling upon the old women who generally take their statior 
 there, — and was ever after designated as a " stickit 
 minister." And thus he wandered back to his own coun- 
 try, with blighted hopes and prospects, to shai^e the 
 poverty of his parents. As he had neither friend nor 
 comidant, hardly even an acquaintance, no one had the 
 means of observing closely how Dominie Sampson bore 
 a disappomtment which supplied the whole town with a 
 week's sport. It would be endless even to mention the 
 numerous jokes to which it gave birth, — from a ballad, 
 called " Sampson's Riddle," written upon the subject by 
 a smart young student of humanity — to the sly hope of 
 the Principal, that the fugitive had not, in imitation of 
 his mighty namesake, taken the college gates along wdth 
 him in his retreat. 
 
 To all appearance, the equanimity of Sampson was 
 unshaken. He sought to assist his parents by teaching a 
 school, and soon had plenty of scholars, but very few fees. 
 In fact, he taught the sons of farmers for what they chose 
 to give him, and the poor for nothing ; and, to the shame 
 of the former be it spoken, the pedagogue's gains never 
 equalled those of a skilful ploughman. He wrote, how- 
 ever, a good hand, and added somethmg to his pittance by 
 copying accounts and writing letters for Ellangowan. By 
 degrees, the .Laird, who was much estranged from general 
 society, became partial to that of Dominie Sampson. 
 Conversation, it is true, was out of the question, but the 
 Dominie was a good hstener, and stirred the fire with 
 some address. He attempted even to snuff the candles, 
 but was unsuccessful, and relinquished that ambitious post 
 of courtesy, after having twice reduced the parlour to 
 total darkness. So his civihties, thereafter, were confined 
 
68 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 to taking off his glass of ale in exactly the same time and 
 measure with the Laird, and m uttering certain indistinct 
 murmurs of acquiescence at the conclusion of the long 
 and winding stories of Ellangowan. 
 
 On one of these occasions, he presented for the first 
 time tc Mannering his tall, gaunt, awkward, bony figure^ 
 attired in a threadbare suit of black, with a coloured 
 handkerchief, not over clean, about his sinewy, scraggy 
 neck, and his nether person arrayed in grey breeches, 
 dark-blue stockings, clouted shoes, and small copper 
 buckles. 
 
 Such is a brief outline of the lives and fortunes of 
 those two persons, in whose society Mannering now found 
 himself comfortably seated. 
 
GUY MANNERLNG. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 Do not the hist'ries of all ages 
 Relate miraculous presages, 
 Of strange turns in the world's affairs, 
 Foreseen by Astrologers, Soothsayers, 
 Chaldeans, learned GenethUacs, 
 And some that have writ almanacs ? 
 
 HUDIBRAS. 
 
 The circumstances of tlie landlady were pleaded to 
 M innering — first as an apology for her not appearing to 
 wefcome her guest, and for those deficiencies in his enter- 
 tainment which her attention might have supphed, and 
 then as an excuse for pressing an extra bottle of good 
 wine. 
 
 " I cannot weel sleep," said the Laird, with the anxious 
 feelings of a father in such a predicament, " till I hear 
 she's gotten ower with it — and if you, sir, are not very 
 eleepry, and would do me and the Dominie the honour to 
 Bit up wi' us, I am sure we shall not detain you very late. 
 Luckie Howatson is very expeditious ; — there was ance a 
 lass that was in that way — she did not live far from here- 
 abouts — ye needna shake your head and groan. Dominie 
 — I am sure the kirk dues were a' weel paid, and what 
 can man do mair ? — it was laid till her ere she had a sark 
 ower her head ; and the man that she since wadded does 
 not think her a pin the waur for the misfortune. — They 
 
70 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 live, jMt. Mannering, by the shore-side, at Annan, and a 
 mail" decent, orderly couple, with six as fine bairns as ye 
 would wish to see plash in a salt-water dub ; and httle 
 cm-lie Godfrey — that's the eldest, the come o' will, as I 
 may say — he's on board an excise yacht ; I hae a cousin 
 at the board of excise — that's Commissioner Bertram; 
 he got his commissionership in the great contest for the 
 county, that ye must have heard of, for it was appealed 
 to the House of Commons : now I should have voted 
 there for the Laird of Bakuddery ; but ye see my father 
 was a Jacobite, and out with Kenmore, so he never took 
 the oaths ; and I ken not weel how it was, but all that I 
 could do and say, they keepit me off the roll, though my 
 agent, that had a vote upon my estate, ranked as a good 
 vote for auld Sir Thomas Kittlecourt. But to return to 
 what I was saying. Luckie Howatson is very expedi- 
 tious, for this lass " 
 
 Here the desultory and long-winded narrative of the 
 Laird was interrupted by the voice of some one ascending 
 the stairs from the kitchen story, and singing at full pitch 
 of voice. The high notes were too shrill for a man, the 
 low seemed too deep for a woman. The words, as far as 
 Mannering could distinguish them, seemed to run thus : 
 
 Canny moment, lucky fit; 
 
 Is the lady lighter yet ? 
 
 Be it lad or be it lass, 
 
 Sign wi' cross and sain wi' mass. 
 
 ** It's Meg Merrilies, the gipsy, as sure as I am a sin- 
 ner," said JVIr. Bertram. The Dominie groaned deeply, 
 uncrossed his legs, di^ew in the huge splay foot which his 
 former posture had extended, placed it perpendicularly, 
 and stretched the other Hmb over it instead, puffing out 
 between whiles huge volumes of tobacco-smoke. " What 
 
GUT MANNERING. 71 
 
 needs ye groan, Dominie ? I am sure Meg's sangs do 
 nae ill." 
 
 " Nor good neither," answered Dominie Sampson, in a 
 voice whose untunable harshness corresponded with the 
 awkwardness of his figure. They were the first words 
 which Mannering had heard him speak ; and as he had 
 been watching with some curiosity when this eating, 
 drinking, moving, and smoking automaton would perform 
 the part of speaking, he was a good deal diverted with 
 the harsh timber tones which issued from him. But at 
 this moment the door opened, and Meg Merrilies entered. 
 
 Her appearance made Mannering start. She was full 
 six feet high, wore a man's great-coat over the rest of her 
 dress, had in her hand a goodly sl'O'e-thorn cudgel, and in 
 all points of equipment, except her petticoats, seemed 
 rather masculine than feminine. Her dark elf-locks shot 
 out like the snakes of the gorgon, between an old-fash- 
 ioned bonnet called a bongrace, heightening the singular 
 efiect of her strong and weather-beaten features, which 
 they partly shadowed, while her eye had a wild roll that 
 indicated something like real or affected insanity. 
 
 " Aweel, EUangowan," she said, " wad it no hae been 
 a bonnie thing an the leddy had been brought to bed and 
 me at the fair o' Drumshourloch, no kenninor, nor dream- 
 ing a word about it ? Wha was to hae keepit awa the 
 woiriecows, I trow ? — ay, and the elves and gyre-carlingg 
 frae the bonny bairn, grace be wi' it ? Ay, or i^,aid Sainl 
 Colme's charm for its sake, the dear?" Artd without 
 waiting an answer, she began to sing — 
 
 Trefoil, vervain, John's-wort, dill, 
 Hinders witches of their wiU ; 
 Weel is them, that weel may 
 Fast upon St. Andrew's day. 
 
72 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Saint Bride and her brat, 
 Saint Colme and his cat, 
 Saint Michael and his spear, 
 Keep the house frae reif and wear. 
 
 This charm she sung to a wild tune, in a high and shrill 
 voice, and cutting three capers with such strength and 
 agihty as ahnost to touch the roof of the room, concluded 
 " And now, Laird, will ye no order me a tass o'brandy ? ' 
 
 " That you shaU have, Meg — Sit down yont there at 
 the door, and tell us what news ye have heard at the fair 
 o' Drumshourloch." 
 
 " Troth, Laird, and there was muckle want o' you, and 
 the like o' you ; for there was a whin bonnie lasses there, 
 forbye myseU, and deil ane to gie them hansels." 
 
 " Weel, Meg, and how mony gipsies were sent to the 
 tolbooth?" 
 
 " Troth, but three, Laird, for there were nae mair in 
 the fair, bye mysell, as I said before, and I e'en gae them 
 leg-bail, for there's nae ease in dealing wi' quarrelsome 
 fowk. And there's Dunbog has warned the Red Rotten 
 and John Young aff his grunds — ^black be his cast ! he's 
 nae gentleman, nor drap's bluid o' gentleman, wad gi'udge 
 tw^a gangrel puir bodies the shelter o' a waste house, and 
 the thristles by the road-side for a bit cuddy, and the bits 
 o' rotten bkk to boil their drap parritch wi'. Weel, 
 there's ane abune a' — ^but we'll see if the red cock craw 
 Hot in his bonnie barn-yard ae morning before day-daw- 
 ing." 
 
 " Hush ! Meg, hush ! hush ! that's not safe talk." 
 
 " What does she mean ? " said Mannering to Sampson, 
 in an under tone. 
 
 " Fire-raising," answered the laconic Dominie. 
 
 " Who, or what is she, in the name of wonder ? " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 73 
 
 " Harlot, thief, witch, and gipsy," answered Sampson 
 again. 
 
 " troth, Laird," continued Meg, during this bj-talk, 
 " it's but to the hke o' you ane can open tlieir heart. Ye 
 see, they say Dunbog is nae mair a gentleman than the 
 blunker that's biggit the bonnie house down in the howm. 
 But the hke o' you, Laird, that's a real gentleman for sae 
 iQonj hundred years, and never hunds puir fowk aff your 
 grund as if they were mad tykes, nane o' our fowk wad 
 stir your gear if ye had as mony capons as there's leaves 
 on the trystiug-tree. — And now some o' ye maun lay 
 down your watch, and tell me the very minute o' the hour 
 the wean's born, and I'll spae its fortune." 
 
 " Ay, but, Meg, we shall not want your assistance, for 
 here's a student from Oxford that kens much better than 
 you how to spae its fortune — he does it by the stars." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Mannering, entering into the 
 simple humour of his landlord, " I will calculate his na^ 
 tivity according to the rule of the Triphcities, as recom- 
 mended by Pythagoras, Hippocrates, Diodes, and Avi- 
 cenna. Or I will begin ah hora questionis, as Haly, Mes- 
 sahala, Ganwehis, and Guido Bonatus, have recom- 
 mended." 
 
 One of Sampson's great recommendations to the favour 
 of Mr. Bertram was, that he never detected the most 
 gross attempt at imposition, so that the Laird, whose 
 hunble efforts at jocularity were chiefly confined to what 
 were then called bites and bams, since denominated hoaxes 
 and quizzes, had the fairest possible subject of wit in the 
 unsuspecting Dominie. It is true, he never laughed, or 
 joined in the laugh which his own simplicity afforded — 
 nay, it is said he never laughed but once in his life ; and 
 on that memorable occasion his landlady miscarried, 
 
74 AVAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 partly thi'ougli surprise at the event itself, and partly 
 from terror at the liideous grimaces wliich attended this 
 unusual cacliinnation. The only effect which the discovery 
 of such impositions produced upon this saturnine person- 
 age was, to extort an ejaculation of " Prodigious ! " or 
 " Very facetious ! " pronounced syllabically, but without 
 moving a muscle of his own countenance. 
 
 On the present occasion, he turned a gaunt and ghastly 
 stare upon the youthful astrologer, and seemed to doubt 
 if he had rightly understood his answer to his patron. 
 
 " I am afraid, sir," said Mannering, turning towards 
 him, " you may be one of those unhappy persons who, 
 their dim eyes being unable to penetrate the starry 
 spheres, and to discern therein the decrees of heaven at a 
 distance, have their hearts barred against conviction by 
 prejudice and misprision." 
 
 "Truly," said Sampson, "I opine with Sir Isaac 
 Newton, Knight, and umwhile master of his majesty*s 
 mint, that the (pretended) science of astrology is alto- 
 gether vain, frivolous, and unsatisfactory." And here he 
 reposed his oracular jaws. 
 
 " Really," resumed the traveller, " I am sorry to see a 
 gentleman of your learning and gravity labouring under 
 such strange blindness and delusion. Will you place the 
 brief, the modern, and as I may say, the vernacular name 
 of Isaac Newton, in opposition to the grave and sonorous 
 authorities of Dariot, Bonatus, Ptolemy, Haly, Eztler, 
 Dieterick, Naibob, Harfurt, Zael, Taustettor, Agrippa, 
 Duretus, Maginus, Origen, and Argol ? Do not Chris- 
 tians and Heathens, and Jews and Gentiles, and poets 
 and philosophers, unite in allowing the starry influences ? " 
 
 " Communis error — it is a general mistake," answered 
 the inflexible Dominie Sampson. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 75 
 
 " Not SO," replied the young Englishman ; " it is a 
 senv^-al and well-grounded behef." 
 
 " It is the resource of cheaters, knaves, and cozeners," 
 said Sampson. 
 
 " Abusus non tollit usum : the abuse of any thing dolh 
 not abrogate the lawful use thereof." 
 
 During this discussion, Ellangowan was somewhat like 
 a woodcock caught in his own springe. He turned his 
 face alternately from the one spokesman to the other, and 
 began, from the gravity with which Mannering pHed his 
 adversary, and the learning which he dis[)layed in the 
 controversy, to give him credit for being half serious. As 
 for Meg, she hxed her bewildered eyes upon the astrologer, 
 overpowered by a jargon more mysterious than her own. 
 
 Mannering pressed his advantage, and ran over all the 
 hard terms of art which a tenacious memory supplied, 
 and which, from circumstances hereafter to be noticed, 
 had been familiar to him in early youth. 
 
 Signs and planets, in aspects sextile, quartile, trine, 
 conjoined or opposite ; houses of heaven, with their 
 cusps, hours, and minutes ; Almuten, Almochoden, Ana- 
 hibazon, Catahibazon ; a thousand terms of equal sound 
 and significance, poured thick and three-fold upon the un- 
 shrinking Dominie, whose stubborn incredulity bore him 
 out against the pelting of this pitiless storm. 
 
 At length the joyful annunciation that the lady had 
 presented her husband with a fine boy, and was (of 
 course) as well as could be expected, broke off this inter- 
 course. Mr. Bertram hastened to the lady's apartment, 
 Meg Merrilies descended to the kitchen to secure her 
 share of the groaning malt,* and the " ken-no ; " and 
 
 * The groaning malt mentioTiea ia the text was the ale brewed for 
 the purpose of being di-unk after the lady or goodwife's safe delivery 
 
76 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Mannering, after looking at his watch, and noting with 
 great exactness the hour and minute of the birth, re- 
 quested, with becoming gravity, that the Dominie would 
 conduct him to some place where he might have a view 
 of the heavenly bodies. 
 
 The schoolmaster, without further answer, rose and 
 tlirew open a door half-sashed with glass, which led to an 
 old-fashioned terrace-walk, behind the modern house, 
 communicating with the platform on which the ruins of 
 the ancient castle were situated. The wind had arisen, 
 and swept before it the clouds which had formerly 
 obscured the sky. The moon was high, and at the full, 
 and all the lesser satellites of heaven shone forth in cloud- 
 less efifulgence. The scene which their light presented 
 to Mannering was in the highest degree unexpected and 
 striking. 
 
 We have observed, that in the latter part of his journey 
 our traveller approached the sea-shore without being 
 aware how nearly. He now perceived that the rums of 
 Ellangowan castle were situated upon a promontory, or 
 projection of rock, which formed one side of a small and 
 
 The Icen-no has a more ancient source, and perhaps the custom may- 
 be derived from the secret rites of the Bona Dea. A large and rich 
 cheese was made by the women of the family, with gi*eat affectation 
 of secrecy, for the refreshment of the gossips who were to attend at 
 ths canny minute. This was the ken-no, so called because its exist- 
 ence was secret (that is, presumed to be so) from all the males of 
 the family, but especially from the husband and master. He was, 
 a/sordingly, expected to conduct himself as if he knew of no such 
 preparation, to act as if desirous to press the female guests to refresh- 
 ments, and to seem surprised at their obstinate refusal. But the in- 
 stant his back was turned, the ken-no was produced; anl after all 
 had eaten their fiU, with a proper accompaniment of the groaning 
 malt, the remainder was divided among the gossips, each carrying 
 a large portion home with the same aifectation of great secrecy. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 77 
 
 placid bay on the sea-shore. The modern mansion was 
 placed lower, though closely adjoining, and the ground 
 behind it descended to the sea bj a small swelling green 
 bank, d'vided into levels by natural terraces on which 
 grew some old trees, and terminating upon the white 
 sand. The other side of the bay, opposite to the old 
 castle, was a sloping and varied promontory, covered 
 ohiefly with copsewood, which on that favoured coast 
 grows almost within watermark. A fisherman's cottage 
 peeped from among the trees. Even at this dead hour 
 of night there were lights moving upon the shore, prob- 
 ably occasioned by the unloading a smuggling lugger 
 from the Isle of Man, which was lying in the bay. On 
 the light from the sashed door of the house being ob- 
 served, a halloo from the vessel, of " Ware hawk ! Douse 
 the glim ! " alarmed those who were on shore, and the 
 lights instantly disappeared. 
 
 It was one hour after midnight, and the prospect around 
 was lovely. The grey old towers of the ruin, partly en- 
 tire, partly broken — here bearing the rusty weather stains 
 of ages, and there partially mantled with ivy, stretched 
 along the verge of the dark rock which rose on Manner- 
 lug's right hand. In his front was the quiet bay, whose 
 little waves crisping and sparkling to the moonbeams, 
 rolled successively along its surface, and dashed with a 
 soft and murmuring ripple against the silvery b(;ach. 
 To the left the woods advanced far into the ocean, 
 waving in the moonlight along ground of an undulating 
 and varied form, and presenting those varieties of light 
 and shade, and that interesting combination of glade and 
 thicket, upon which the eye delights to rest, charmed 
 with what it sees, yet curious to pierce still deeper into 
 the intricacies of the woodland scenery. Above rolled 
 
78 WAVEELET NOVELS. 
 
 the planet?, each, by its own liquid orbit of light, dis- 
 tinguished from the inferior or more distant stars. So 
 strangely can imagination deceive even those bj whose 
 volition it has been excited, that Mannering, while gazing 
 upon these brilliant bodies, was half inclined to believe in 
 the influence ascribed to them bj superstition over humaa 
 events. But Mannering was a youthful lover, and might 
 perhaps be influenced by the feelings so exquisitely ex- 
 pressed by a modern poet : 
 
 For fable is Love's world, his home, his birth-place! 
 
 Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays, and talismans, 
 
 And spirits, and delightedly believes 
 
 Divinities, being himself divine. 
 
 The intelligible forms of ancient poets, 
 
 The fair humanities of old religion. 
 
 The power, the beauty, and the majesty, 
 
 That had their haunts in dale, or piny moimtains, 
 
 Or forest, by slow stream, or pebbly spring, 
 
 Or chasms and wat'iy depths — all these have vanish'd— 
 
 They live no longer in the faith of reason ! 
 
 But still the heart doth need a langiiage, still 
 
 Doth the old instinct bring back the old names. 
 
 And to yon stany world they now are gone, 
 
 Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth 
 
 With man as with their friend, and to the lover. 
 
 Yonder they move, from yonder visible sky 
 
 Shoot influence down; and even at this day 
 
 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, 
 
 And Venus who brings every thing that's fail". 
 
 Such musings soon gave way to others. " Alas ! " he 
 muttered, " my good old tutor, who used to enter so deep 
 into the controversy between Heydon and Chambers on 
 the subject of Astrology, — he would have looked upon 
 the scene with other eyes, and would have seriously en- 
 deavoured to discover from the respective positions of 
 chese luminaries then* probable effects on the destiny of 
 
GUY MANNERING. /O 
 
 the new-born infant, as if the courses or emanations of 
 the stars puperseded, or, at least, were co-ordinate with, 
 Divine Providence. Well, rest be with him ! — he in- 
 stilled into me enough of knowledge for erecting a scheme 
 of nativity, and therefore will I presently go about it." 
 Sc saying, and having noted the position of the principal 
 planetary bodies, Guy Mannering returned to the house. 
 The Laird met him in the parlour, and acquainting him 
 with great glee, that the boy was a fine healthy little 
 fellow, seemed rather disposed to press further con- 
 viviahty. He admitted, however, Mannering's plea of 
 weariness, and, conducting him to his sleeping apartment, 
 left him to repose for the evening. 
 
60 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Come and see ! trust thine ovra eyes, 
 
 A fearful sign stands in the house of life, 
 A.n enemy ; a fiend lurks close behind 
 The radiance of thy planet — be warned ! 
 
 COLEErDGE,//£Wi SCHILLEB. 
 
 The belief in astrology was almost universal in tlie 
 middle of the seventeenth century ; it began to waver 
 and become doubtful towai'ds the close of that period, and 
 in the beginning of the eighteenth the art fell into general 
 disrepute, and even under general ridicule. Yet it still 
 retained many partisans, even in the seats of learning. 
 Grave and studious men were loth to relinquish the cal- 
 culations wliich had early become the principal objects of 
 their studies, and felt reluctant to descend from the pre- 
 dominating height to which a supposed insight into 
 futurity, by the power of consulting abstract influences 
 and conjunctions, had exalted them over the rest of 
 mankind. 
 
 Among those who cherished this imaginary privilege 
 with undoubting faith, was an old clergyman, with wLora 
 Mannering was placed during his youth. He wasted liis 
 eyes in observing the stars, and his brains in calculations 
 upon their various combinations. His pupil, in early 
 youth, naturally caught some portion of his enthusiasm, 
 and laboured for a time to make himself master of the 
 technical process of astrological research ; sc that, before 
 
CfUY MANNERING. 81 
 
 he became convinced of its absurdity, William Lilly 
 himself would have allowed him " a curious fancy and 
 piercing judgment in resolving a question of nativity." 
 
 On the present occasion, he arose as early in the 
 morning as the shortness of the day permitted, and pro- 
 ceeded to calculate the nativity of the young heir of 
 Eilangowan. He undertook the task secundum artem, as 
 well to keep up appearances, as from a sort of curiosity to 
 know whether he yet remembered, and could practise, the 
 imaginary science. He accordingly erected his scheme, 
 or jSgure of heaven, divided into its twelve houses, placed 
 the planets therein according to the Ephemeris, and 
 rectified their position to the hour and moment of the 
 nativity. Without troubling our readers with the general 
 prognostications which judicial astrology would have in- 
 ferred from these circumstances, in this diagram there 
 was one significator which pressed remarkably upon our 
 astrologer's attention. Mars having dignity in the cusp 
 of the twelfth house, threatened captivity, or sudden and 
 violent death, to the native ; and Mannering having 
 recourse to those further rules by which diviners pretend 
 to ascertain the vehemency of this evil direction, observed 
 from the result, that three periods would be particulai'ly 
 hazardous — his ffth — ^his tenth — his twenty-first year. 
 
 It was somewhat remarkable, that Mannering had once 
 before tried a similar piece of foolery, at the instance of 
 Sophia Wellwood, the young lady to whom he was 
 attached, and that a similar conjunction of planetary 
 influence threatened her with death, or imprisonment, 
 in her thirty-ninth year. She was at this time eighteen ; 
 80 that, according to the result of the scheme in both 
 cases, the same year threatened her with the same mis- 
 fortune that was presaged to the native or infant, whom 
 
82 -WAVERLET NOYELS. 
 
 that niglit Lad introduced into the world. Struck with 
 this coincidence, Mannering repeated his calculaLons; 
 and the result approximated the events predicted, until, 
 at length, the same morth, and day of the month, seemed 
 assigned as the period of peril to both. 
 
 It will be readily believed, that, in mentioning thia 
 circumstance, we lay no weight whatever upon the pre- 
 tended information thus conveyed. But it often happens, 
 such is our natural love for the marvellous, that we will - 
 ingly contribute our own efforts to beguile our better 
 judgments. Whether the coincidence which I have 
 mentioned was really one of those singular chances, 
 which sometimes happen against all ordinary calcula- 
 tions ; or whether Mannering, bewildered amid the 
 arithmetical labyrinth and technical jargon of astrology, 
 had insensibly t^'ice followed the same clew to guide him 
 out of the maze ; or whether his imagination, seduced by 
 some point of apparent resemblance, lent its aid to make 
 the similitude between the two operations more exactly 
 accurate than it might otherwise have been, it is impos- 
 sible to guess ; but the impression upon his mind, that 
 the results exactly corresponded, was vividly and indehbly 
 strong. 
 
 He could not help feeling surprise at a coincidence so 
 singular and unexpected. "■ Does the devil mingle in the 
 dance, to avenge himself for our trifling with an art said 
 to be of magical origin ? or is it possible, as Bacon aud 
 Sir Thomas Browne admit, that there is some truth in a 
 sober and regulated astrology, and that the influence of 
 the stars is not to be denied, though the due application 
 of it, by the knaves who pretend to practise the art, is 
 greatly to be suspected ? " — A moment's consideration of 
 the subject induced him to dismiss this opinion as fantas* 
 
GUT SIANNEKING. 83 
 
 Ileal, and only sanctioned by those learned men, either 
 because they durst not at once shock the universal 
 prejudices of their age, or because they themselves were 
 not altogether freed from the contagious influence of a 
 prevailing superstition. Yet the result of his calculations 
 in these two instances left so unpleasing an impression on 
 his mind, that, like Prospero, he mentally relinquished 
 his art, and resolved, neither in jest nor earnest, ever 
 again to practise judicial astrology. 
 
 He hesitated a good deal what he should say to the 
 Laird of Ellangowan concerning the horoscope of his 
 first-bom ; and at length resolved plainly to tell him the 
 judgment which he had formed, at the same time ac- 
 quainting him with the futihty of the rules of art on which 
 he had proceeded. With this resolution he walked out 
 upon the terrace. 
 
 If the view of the scene around Ellangowan had been 
 pleasing by moonlight, it lost none of its beauty by the 
 light of the morning sun. The land, even in the month 
 of November, smiled under its influence. A steep, but 
 regular ascent led from the terrace to the neighbouring 
 eminence, and conducted Mannering to the front of the 
 old castle. It consisted of two massive round towers, 
 projecting, deeply and darkly, at the extreme angles of a 
 curtain, or flat wall, which united them, and thus protect- 
 ing the main entrance, that opened through a lofty arch 
 in the centre of the curtain into the inner court of the 
 castle. The arms of the family, carved in freestone, 
 frowned over the gateway, and the portal showed the 
 spaces arranged by the architect for lowering the port- 
 cullis, and raising the draw-bridge. A rude farm-gate, 
 made of young fir-trees nailed together, now formed the 
 only safeguard oi' this once formidable entran'.e. The 
 
84 WAYEELET XOTXLS. 
 
 esplanade in front of tlie castle commanded a noble 
 prospect. 
 
 The dreary scene of desolation, through which Man- 
 nering's road had lain on the preceding evening, was 
 excluded from the view by some rising ground, and the 
 landscape showed a pleasing alternation of hill and dale, 
 intersected by a river, which was in some places visible, 
 and hidden in others, where it rolled betwixt deep and 
 wooded banks. The spire of a chiirch, and the appear- 
 ance of some houses, uidicated the situation of a village 
 at the place where the stream had its jimction with the 
 ocean. The vales seemed well cultivated, the little en- 
 closures into which they were divided skirting the bottom 
 of the hills, and sometimes carrying their lines of strag- 
 gling hedge-rows a httle way up the ascent. Above these 
 were green pastures, tenanted chiefly by herds of black 
 cattle, then the staple commodity of the country, whose 
 distant low gave no unpleasing animation to the land- 
 scape. The remoter hills were of a sterner character, 
 and, at still gi-eater distance, swelled into mountains of 
 dark heath, bordering the horizon with a screen, which 
 gave a defined and limited boundary to the cultivated 
 country, and added, at the same time, the pleasing idea, 
 that it was sequestered and sohtary. The sea-coast, 
 which Mannering now saw in its extent, corresponded ia 
 variety and beauty with the inland view. In some places 
 it rose into taU rocks, frequently crowned with the ruins 
 of old buildings, towers, or beacons, which, according to 
 tradition, were placed within sight of each other, that, in 
 times of invasion or civil war, they might communicate 
 by signal for mutual defence and protection. Ellangowan 
 castle was by far the most extensive and important of 
 diese ruins, and asserted, from size alid situation, the 
 
GUT MANNERING. 85 
 
 superiority whicli its founders were said once to have 
 possessed among the chiefs and nobles of the district. In 
 other places, the shore was of a more gentle description, 
 indented with small bays, where the land sloped smoothly 
 down, or sent into the sea promontories covered with 
 wood. 
 
 A scene so different from what last night's journey had 
 presaged, produced a proportional effect upon Mannering. 
 Beneath his eye lay the modern house — an awkward 
 mansion, indeed, in point of architecture, but well situated, 
 and with a warm pleasant exposure. — " How happily," 
 thought our hero, " would life glide on in such a retire- 
 ment ! On the one hand, the striking remnants of ancient 
 grandeur, with the secret consciousness of family pride 
 which they inspire ; on the other, enough of modern 
 elegance and comfort to satisfy every moderate wish 
 Here then, and with thee, Sophia ! — " 
 
 We shall not pursue a lover's day-dream any farther. 
 Mannering stood a minute with his arms folded, and then 
 turned to the ruined castle. 
 
 On entering the gateway, he found that the rude mag- 
 nificence of the inner court amply corresponded with the 
 grandeur of the exterior. On the one side ran a range 
 of windows, lofty and large, divided by carved muUions 
 of stone, which had once hghted the great hall of the 
 castle ; on the other were various buildings of different 
 hf ights and dates, yet so united as to present to the eye 
 a certain general effect of uniformity of front. The 
 doors and windows were ornamented with projections, 
 exlubiting rude specimens of sculpture and tracery, partly 
 entire and partly broken down, partly covered by ivy 
 and trailing plants, which grew luxuriantly among the 
 ruins. I'hat end of the court which faced the entrance 
 
86 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 had also been formerly closed by a range of buildings 
 but owing, it was said, to its having been battered by the 
 ships of the Parhament under Deane, during the long 
 civil war, this part of the castle was much more ruinous 
 than the rest, and exhibited a great chasm, through which 
 Mannering could observe the sea, and the Httle vessel 
 (an armed lugger) which retained her station in tlie 
 centre of the bay.* Wliile Mannering was gazing round 
 the ruins, he heard from the interior of an apartment on 
 the left hand the voice of the gipsy he had seen on the 
 preceding evening. He soon found an aperture through 
 which he could observe her without being himself visible; 
 and could not help feehng that her figure, her employ- 
 ment, and her situation, conveyed the exact impression 
 of an ancient sibyl. 
 
 She sate upon a broken corner-stone in the angle of a 
 paved apartment, part of which she had swept clean to 
 afford a smooth space for the evolutions of her spindle. 
 A strong sunbeam, through a lofty and narrow window, 
 fell upon her wild di'ess and features, and afforded her 
 light for her occupation ; the rest of the apartment was 
 very gloomy. Equipt in a habit which mingled the 
 national di-ess of the Scottish common people with some- 
 thing of an Eastern costume, she spun a thread, drawn 
 from wool of three different colours — black, white, and 
 grey — by assistance of those ancient implements of 
 housewifery, now almost banished from the land, the 
 distaff and spindle. As she spun, she sung what seemed 
 to be a charm. Mannering, after in vain attempting to 
 
 * The outline of the above description, as far as the supposed niins 
 are concerned, will be found somewhat to resemble the noble remains 
 of Carlaverock-castle, six or seven miles from Dumfries, and lear to 
 Lochar-moss- 
 
GUT MANNERING. 87 
 
 make himself master of the exact words of her song, 
 
 afterwards attempted the following paraphrase of what, 
 
 from a few intelligible phrases, he concluded to be it3 
 
 purport : — 
 
 Twist ye, twine ye! even so 
 Mingle shades of joy and woe, 
 Hope and fear, and peace and strife, 
 In the thread of human life. 
 
 While the mystic twist is spinning, 
 And the infant's life beginning, 
 Dimly seen through twQight bending, 
 Lo, what varied shapes attending ! 
 
 Passions wald, and Follies vain. 
 Pleasures soon exchanged for pain ; 
 Doubt, and Jealousy, and Fear, 
 In the magic dance appear. 
 
 Now they wax, and now they dwindle. 
 Whirling with the whMing spindle, 
 Twist ye, twine ye ! even so 
 Mingle human bliss and woe. 
 
 Ere our translator, or rather our free imitator, had 
 arranged these stanzas in his head, and while he was yet 
 hammering out a rhyme for dwindle, the task of the 
 sibyl was accomplished, or her wool was expended. She 
 took the spindle, now charged with her labours, and 
 imdoing the thread, gradually measured it, by casting it 
 orer her elbow, and bringing each loop round between 
 her forefinger and thumb. When she had measured it 
 out, she muttered to herself, — " A hank, but not a haill 
 ane— the full years o' three score and ten, but thi-ice 
 broken, and thrice to oop, {i. e. to unite ;) he'll be a lucky 
 lad an he win through wi't." 
 
 Our hero was about to speak to the prophetess, when 
 a voice, hoarse as the waves with which it mingled, 
 
88 WAYEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 halloo'd tvnce, and with increasing impatience,— Meg, 
 Meg Merrilies ! — Gipsy — hag — ^tousand deyvils ! " 
 
 "I am coming, I am coming, Captain," answered 
 Meg ; and in a moment or two the impatient commander 
 whom she addressed made his appearance from the 
 broken part of the ruins. 
 
 He was apparently a seafaring man, rather under the 
 middle size, and mth a countenance bronzed by a thou- 
 sand conflicts with the north-east wind. His frame was 
 prodigiously muscular, strong, and thick-set ; so that it 
 seemed as if a man of much greater height would have 
 been an inadequate match in any close, personal conflict. 
 He was hard-favoured, and, which was worse, his face 
 bore nothing of the insouciance, the careless froUcsome 
 jollity and vacant curiosity of a sailor on shore. These 
 qualities, perhaps, as much as any others, contribute to 
 the high popularity of our seamen, and the general good 
 inclination which our society expresses towards them. 
 Their gallantry, courage, and hardihood, are quahties 
 which excite reverence, and perhaps rather humble pacific 
 landsmen in their presence ; and neither respect, nor a 
 sense of humiliation, are feehngs easily combined with a 
 famiHar fondness towards those who inspire them. But the 
 boyish frolics, the exulting high spirits, the unreflecting 
 mii'th of a sailor, when enjoying himself on shore, temper 
 the more formidable points of his character. There was 
 nothing like these in this man's face ; on the contrary, 
 a surly and even savage scowl appeared to darken features 
 which Avould have been harsh and unpleasant under any 
 expression or modification. " Where are you. Mother 
 Deyvilson ? " he said, with somewhat of a foreign accent, 
 though speaking perfectly good English. " Donner and 
 bhtzen ! we have been staying this half hour. — Come, 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 89 
 
 bless the good ship and the voyage, and be cursed to ye 
 for a hag of SiJlan ! " 
 
 At this moment he noticed Mannering, who, from the 
 position which he had taken to watch Meg Merrilies's 
 incantations, had the appearance of some one who was 
 concealing himself, being half hidden by the buttress 
 behind which he stood. The Captain, for such he styled 
 himself, made a sudden and startled pause, and thrust 
 his right hand into his bosom, between his jacket and 
 waistcoat, as if to draw some weapon, " What cheer, 
 brother ? — ^you seem on the outlook — eh ? " 
 
 Ere Mannering, somewhat struck by the man's gesture 
 and insolent tone of voice, had made any answer, the 
 gipsy emerged from her vault and joined the stranger. 
 He questioned her in an under tone, looking at Manner- 
 ing — " A shark alongside — eh ? " 
 
 She answered in the same tone of under-dialogue, 
 using the cant language of her tribe — " Cut ben whids, 
 and stow them — a gentry cove of the ken."* 
 
 The fellow's cloudy visage cleared up. " The top of 
 the morning to you, sir ; I find you are a visitor of my 
 friend JVIr. Bertram. — I beg pardon, but I took you for 
 another sort of a person." 
 
 Mannering replied, " And you, sir, I presume, are the 
 master of that vessel in the bay ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ; I am Captain Dirk Hatteraick, of the 
 Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, well known on this coast ; I 
 am not ashamed of my name, nor of my vessel, — ^no, nor 
 of my cargo neither, for that matter." 
 
 " I dare say you have no reason, sir." 
 
 " Tousand donner — no ; I'm all in the way of fair 
 
 * Meaning — Stop your uncivil language — ^that is a gentleman firom 
 the house below. 
 
90 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 trade — Just loaded yonder from Douglas, in the Isle of 
 Man — neat cogniac — real hyson and souchong — Mechlin 
 lace, if you want any — Right cogniac— We bumped 
 ashore a hundred kegs last night." 
 
 " ReaUy, sir, I am only a traveller, and have no sort 
 of occasion for any thing of the kind at present." 
 
 " Why, then, good morning to you, for business must 
 be minded ; unless ye'U go aboard and take schnaps,* you 
 shall have a pouch-full of tea ashore. — Dirk Hatteraick 
 knows how to be civil." 
 
 There was a mixture of impudence, hardihood, and 
 suspicious fear about this man, which was inexpressibly 
 disgusting. His manners were those of a ruffian, con- 
 scious of the suspicion attending his character, yet aiming 
 to bear it down by the affectation of a careless and hardy 
 famiUarity. Mannering briefly rejected his proffered 
 civilities ; and after a surly good morning, Hatteraick 
 retired with the gipsy to that part of the ruins from which 
 he had first made his appearance. A very narrow stair- 
 case here went down to the beach, intended probably for 
 the convenience of the garrison during a siege. By 
 this stair, the couple, equally amiable in appearance, and 
 respectable by profession, descended to the sea-side. The 
 soi-disant captain embarked in a smaU boat with two men, 
 who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on 
 the shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulatirg with great 
 vehemenoj. 
 
 * A dram of liquor 
 
GUT MANNERINa. 91 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ■ Tou have fed upon my seignories, 
 
 Disparbed my parks, and felled my forest woods, 
 From mine own windows torn my household coat, 
 Razed out my impress, leaving me no sign, 
 Save men's opinions and my living blood. 
 To show the world I am a gentleman. 
 
 RiCHAED n. 
 
 When the boat wliicli carried the worthy capUiin on 
 board his vessel had accomphshed that task, the sails 
 began to ascend, and the ship was got under way. She 
 fired three guns as a salute to the house of Ellangowan, 
 and then shot away rapidly before the wind, which blew 
 off shore, under all the sail she could crowd. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the Laird, who had sought Mannering 
 for some time, and now joined him, " there they go- 
 there go the free-traders — there go Captain Dirk Hatter- 
 aick, and the Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, half Manks, 
 half Dutchman, half devil! run out the boltsprit, up 
 main-sail, top and top-gallant sails, royals, and skyscrapers, 
 and away — ^follow who can ! That fellow, Mr. Manner- 
 ing, is the terror of all the excise and custom-house 
 cruizers ; they can make nothing of him ; he drubs them, 
 or he distances them ; — and speaking of excise, I come 
 to bring you to breakfast ; and you shall have some tea, 
 that " 
 
 Mannering, by this time, was aware that one thought 
 
92 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 linked strangely on to another in the concatenation of 
 worthy IMi*. Bertram's ideas, 
 
 Like orient pearls at random strung; 
 
 and, therefore, before the current of his associations had 
 drifted farther from the point he had left, he brought him 
 back by some inquiry about Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " O he's a — a — gude sort of blackguard fellow eneugh 
 — ^naebody cares to trouble him — smuggler, when his 
 guns are in ballast — ^privateer, or pirate, faith, when he 
 gets them mounted. He has done more mischief to the 
 revenue folk than ony rogue that ever came out of Ram- 
 say." 
 
 " But, my good sir, such being his character, I wonder 
 he has any protection and encouragement on this coast." 
 
 " Why, ]Mr. Mannering, people must have brandy and 
 tea, and there's none in the country but what comes this 
 way — and then there's short accounts, and maybe a keg 
 or two, or a dozen pounds left at your stable door, instead 
 of a d — d lang account at Christmas from Duncan Robb, 
 the grocer at Kippletringan, who has aye a sum to make 
 up, and either wants ready money, or a short-dated bill. 
 Now, Hatteraick will take wood, or he'll take bark, or 
 he'll take barley, or he'll take just what's convenient at 
 the time. I'll tell you a gude story about that. There 
 was ance a Laird — that's Macfie of Gudgeonford, — he 
 had a great number of kain hens — that's hens that the 
 tenant pays to the landlord, like, a sort of rent in kind — 
 they aye feed mine very ill ; Luckie Finniston sent up 
 three that were a shame to be seen only last week, and 
 yet she has twelve bows sowing of victual ; indeed her 
 good man, Duncan Finniston — that's him that's gone— 
 (for we must all die, Mr. Mannering ; that's ower true)— 
 
.GUY MANNERING. 93 
 
 and speaking of that, let us live in the meanwhile, for 
 here's breakfast on the table, and the Dominie ready to 
 say the grace." 
 
 The Dominie did accordingly pronounce a benediction, 
 that exceeded in length any speech which Mannering had 
 yet heard him utter. The tea, which of course belonged 
 to the noble Captain Hatteraick's trade, was pronounced 
 excellent. Still Maanering hinted, though with due deh- 
 cacy, at the risk of encouraging such desperate charac- 
 ters : " Were it but in justice to the revenue, I should 
 have supposed " 
 
 " Ah, the revenue-lads " — ^for Mr. Bertram never em- 
 braced a general or abstract idea, and his notion of the 
 revenue was personified in the commissioners, surveyors, 
 comptrollers, and riding officers, whom he happened to 
 know—" the revenue-lads can look sharp eneugh out for 
 themselves — no ane needs to help them — and they have 
 a' the soldiers to assist them besides ; — and as to justice — • 
 you'll be surprised to hear it, ]Mr. Mannering, — ^but I am 
 not a justice of eace." 
 
 Mannering assumed the expected look of surprise, but 
 thought within himself that the worshipful bench suffered 
 no great deprivation from wanting the assistance of his 
 good-humom-ed landlord. IVIr. Bertram had now hit 
 upon one of the few subjects on which he felt sore, and 
 went on with some energy. 
 
 " No, sir, — the name of Godfrey Bertram of Ellango- 
 waii is not in the last commission, though there's scarce a 
 carle in the country that has a ploughgate of land, but 
 what he must ride to quarter-sessions and write J. P. 
 after his name. I ken fii' weel whom I am obhged to — ■ 
 Sir Thomas Kittlecourt as good as tell'd me he would sit 
 in my skirts if he had not my interest at the last election j 
 
94 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 and because I chose to go with my own blood and third 
 cousin, the Laird of Balruddeiy, they keepit me off the 
 roll of freeholders ; and now there comes a new nomina- 
 tion of justices, and I am left out ! And whereas they 
 pretend it was because I let Davie Mac-Guffog, the con- 
 stable, draw the warrants, and manage the business his 
 ain gate, as if I had been a nose o' wax, it's a main un- 
 truth ; for I granted but seven warrants in my life, and 
 the Dominie wrote every one of them — and if it had not 
 been that unlucky business of Sandy Mac-Gruthar's, that 
 the constables should have keepit twa or three days up 
 yonder at the auld castle, just till they could get con- 
 veniency to send him to the county jail — and that cost 
 me eneugh o' siller — But I ken what Sir Thomas wants 
 very weel — ^it was just sic and siclike about the seat in 
 the kirk o' Kilmagirdle — was I not entitled to have the 
 front gallery facing the minister, rather than Mac-Crosskie 
 of Creochstone, the son of Deacon Mac-Crosskie, the 
 Dumfries weaver ? " 
 
 Mannering expressed his acquiescence in the justice of 
 these various complaints. 
 
 " And then, ]Mr. Mannering, there was the story about 
 the road, and the fauld-dike — ^I ken Sir Thomas was 
 behind there, and I said plainly to the clerk to the trus- 
 tees that I saw the cloven foot, let them take that as they 
 like. — Would any gentleman, or set of gentlemen, go and 
 driv(} a road right through the corner of a fauld-dike, and 
 take away, as my agent observed to them, like twa roods 
 of gude moorland pasture ? — And there was the story 
 about choosing the collector of the cess " 
 
 " Certainly, sir, it is hard you should meet with any 
 neglect in a country, where, to judge from the extent of 
 their residence, your ancestors must have made a very 
 important figure." 
 
GUT 5IANNERING. 95 
 
 " Very true, Mr. Mannering. — I am a plain man, and 
 do not dwell on these things ; and I must needs say, 1 
 have little memory for them ; but I wish ye could have 
 heard my father's stories about the auld fights of the 
 Mac-Dingawaies — that's the Bertrams that now is — ^wi* 
 the Irish, and wi' the Highlanders, that came here in 
 their berlings from Hay and Cantire — and how they 
 went to the Holy Land — that is, to Jerusalem and Jericho, 
 wi' a' their clan at their heels — they had better have 
 gaen to Jamaica, hke Sir Thomas Kittlecourt's uncle — 
 and how they brought hame relics, like those that Catho- 
 lics have, and a flag that's up yonder in the garret — ^if 
 they had been casks of Muscavado, and puncheons of 
 rum, it would have been better for the estate at this 
 day — but there's Uttle comparison between the auld keep 
 at Kittlecourt and the castle o' EUangowan — I doubt 
 if the keep's forty feet of front. — But ye make no break- 
 fast, ]Mi*. Mannering ; ye're no eating your meat ; allow 
 me to recommend some of the kipper — It was John Hay 
 that catcht it, Saturday was three weeks, down at the 
 stream below Hempseed ford," &c. &c. &c. 
 
 The Laird, whose indignation had for some time kept 
 him pretty steady to one topic, now launched forth into 
 bis usual roving style of conversation, which gave Man- 
 nering ample time to reflect upon the disadvantages 
 attending the situation, which, an hour before, he had 
 thought worthy of so much envy. Here was a country 
 gentleman, whose most estimable quality seemed his per- 
 fect good nature, secretly fretting himself and murmuring 
 against others, for causes which, compared with any real 
 evil in life, must weigh like dust in the balance. But 
 Buch is the equal distribution of Providence. To those 
 who lie out of the road of great afflictions, are assigned 
 
96 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 petty vexations, which answer all the purpose of disturb- 
 ing their serenity ; and every reader must have observed, 
 that neither natural apathy nor acquired philosophy can 
 render country gentlemen insensible to the grievances 
 which occur at elections, quarter-sessions, and meetings 
 of trustees. 
 
 Curious to investigate the manners of the country, 
 Mannering took the advantage of a pause in good Mr. 
 Bertram's string of stories, to inquire what Captain Hat- 
 teraick so earnestly wanted with the gipsy woman. 
 
 " Oh, to bless his ship, I suppose. You must know, 
 Mr. Mannering, that these free-traders, whom the law 
 calls smugglers, having no religion, make it all up in 
 superstition ; and they have as many spells, and charms, 
 and nonsense ^" 
 
 " Vanity and waur ! " said the Dominie : " it is a traf- 
 ficking with the Evil One. Spells, periapts, aod charms, 
 are of his device — choice arrows out of Apollyon's 
 quiver." 
 
 " Hold your peace, Dominie — ^ye're speaking forever " 
 — (by the way, they were the first words the poor man 
 had uttered that morning, excepting that he said grace 
 and returned thanks) — " Mr. Mannering cannot get in a 
 word for ye ! — And so, Mr. Mannering, talking of astron- 
 omy, and speUs, and these matters, have ye been so 
 kind as to consider what we were speaking about last 
 night?" 
 
 " I begin to think, Mr. Bertram, with your worthy 
 friend here, that I have been rather jesting with edge- 
 tools ; and although neither you nor I, nor any sensible 
 !9ian, can put faith in the predictions of astrology, yet as 
 it has sometimes happened that inquiries into futurity, 
 undertaken in jest, have in their results produced serious 
 
GUT MANNERING. 97 
 
 and unpleasant effects both upon actions and cliaraclers, 
 I really wish you would dispense with my replying to 
 your question." 
 
 It was easy to see that this evasive answer only ren- 
 dered the Laird's curiosity more uncontrollable. Man- 
 nering, however, was determined in his own mind, not to 
 expose the infant to the mconveniences which might have 
 arisen from his being supposed the object of evil predic- 
 tion. He therefore dehvered the paper into Mr. Ber- 
 tram's hand, and requested him to keep it for five years 
 with the seal unbroken, until the month of No*^ember was 
 expired. After that date had intervened, he left him at 
 liberty to examine the writing, trusting that the first 
 i'ata] period being then safely overpassed, no credit w'ould 
 1)6 paid to its farther* contents. — This ISlr. Bertram was 
 content to promise, and Mannering, to insure his fidehty, 
 hinted at misfortunes w^hich would certainly take place if 
 his injunctions w^ere neglected. The rest of the day, 
 which Mannering, by Mr. Bertram's invitation, spent at 
 Ellangowan, passed over without any thing remarkable ; 
 and on the mornmg of that w^hich followed, the traveller 
 mounted his palfrey, bade a courteous adieu to his hospit- 
 able landlord and to his clerical attendant, repeated his 
 good wishes for the prosperity of the family, and, then, 
 turning his horse's head towards England, disappeared 
 fiom the sight of the inmates of Ellangowan. He must 
 also disappear from that of our readers, for it is to 
 another and later period of his hfe that the present nar- 
 rative relates. 
 
 ■^^^ 
 
 'TOI*. lU. t 
 
 k 
 
OS WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Next, the Justice, 
 
 In fair round belly, with good capon lined, 
 With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
 • ruU of wise saws and modern instances. 
 And so he plays his part. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 "VVjien Mrs. Bertram of Ellangowan was able to hear 
 the news of what had passed during her confinement, her 
 apartment rung with all manner of gossiping respecting 
 the handsome young student from Oxford, who had told 
 fcuch a fortune by the stars to the young Laird, " blessings 
 on his dainty face." The form, accent, and manners of 
 the stranger were expatiated upon ; his horse, bridle, 
 saddle, and stirrups did not remain unnoticed. All this 
 made a great impression upon the mind of Mrs. Bertram, 
 for the good lady had no small store of superstition. 
 
 Her first employment, when she became capable of a 
 little work, was to make a small velvet bag for the scheme 
 of nativity which she had obtained from her husband. 
 Her fingers itched to break the seal, but credulity proved 
 stronger than curiosity ; and she had the firmness to en- 
 close it, in all its integrity, within two slips of parchment, 
 which she sewed ro'ind it, to prevent its being chafed. 
 The whole was then put into the velvet bag aforesaid, 
 and hung as a charm round the neck of the infant, where 
 his mothei resolved it should remain until the period 
 
GUY MANNERtNG. 99 
 
 for the lagitimate satisfaction of her curiosity should 
 arrive. 
 
 The father also resolved to do his part by the child, in 
 securing him a good education ; and with the view that 
 it should commence with the first dawnings of reason, 
 Dominie Sampson was easily induced to renounce his 
 public profession of parish schoolmaster, make his con- 
 Btant residence at the Place, and, in consideration of a 
 sum not quite equal to the wages of a footman even at 
 that time, to undertake to communicate to the future 
 Laird of Ellangowan all the erudition which he had, and 
 all the graces and accomplishments which — he had not 
 indeed, but which he had never discovered that he 
 wanted. In this arrangement the Laird found also his 
 private advantage ; securing the constant benefit of a 
 patient auditor, to whom he told his stories when they 
 were alone, and at whose expense he could break a sly 
 jest when he had company. 
 
 About four years after this time, a great commotion 
 took place in the county where Ellangowan is situated. 
 
 Those who watched the signs of the times, had long 
 been of opinion that a change of ministry was about to 
 take place ; and at length, after a due proportion of hopes, 
 fears, and delays, rumours from good authority and bad 
 authority, and no authority at all ; after some clubs had 
 drank Up with this statesman, and others Down with 
 liim ; after riding and running and posting, and address- 
 ing and counter-addressing, and proffers of lives and for- 
 tunes, the blow was at length struck, the administration 
 of the day was dissolved, and parliament, as a natural 
 consequence, was dissolved also. 
 
 Sir Thomas Kittlecourt, like other members in the 
 game situation, posted down to his county, and met but an 
 
100 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 indifferent reception. He was a partisan of ^he old ad- 
 ministration ; and tlie friends of the new had ah^eady set 
 about an active canvass in behalf of John Featherhead, 
 Esq., who kept the best hounds and hunters in the shire. 
 Among others who joined the standard of revolt was 
 
 Gilbert Glossin, writer in , agent for the Laird of 
 
 EUangowan. This honest gentleman had either been 
 refused some favour by the old member, or, what is as 
 probable, he had got all that he had the most distant pre- 
 tension to ask, and could only look to the other side for 
 fresh advancement. Mr. Glossin had a vote upon Ellan- 
 gowan's property ; and he was now determined that his 
 patron should have one also, there being no doubt which 
 side Mr. Bertram would embrace in the contest. He 
 easily persuaded EUangowan, that it would be creditable 
 to him to take the field at the head of as strong a party 
 as possible ; and immediately went to work, making votes, 
 as every Scotch lawyer knows how, by splitting and sub- 
 dividing the superiorities upon this ancient and once 
 powerful barony. These were so extensive, that by dint 
 of clipping and paring here, adding and eking there, and 
 creating over-lords upon all the estate which Bertram 
 held of the crown, they advanced, at the day of contest, 
 at the head of ten as good men of parchment as ever 
 took the oath of trust and possession. This strong rein- 
 forcement turned the dubious day of battle. The prin- 
 cipal and his agent, divided the honour ; the reward fell 
 to the latter exclusively. Mr. Gilbert Glossin was made 
 clerk of the peace, and Godfrey Bertram had his name 
 inserted in a new commission of justices, issued imme- 
 diately upon the sitting of the parliament. 
 
 This had been the summit of Mr. Bertram's ambition ; 
 ^-not that he liked either the trouble or the responsibility 
 
GUY MANNERLNG. 101 
 
 of tlie office, but lie thought it was a dignity to whicli lie 
 was well entitled, and that it had been withheld from him 
 by malice pi-epense. But there is an old and true Scotch 
 proverb, — " Fools should not have chapping sticks ; " that 
 is, weapons of offence. Mr. Bertram was no sooner pos- 
 sessed of the judicial authority which he had so much 
 longed for, than he began to exercise it with more severity 
 than mercy, and totally belied all the opinions which had 
 hitherto been formed of his inert good nature. We hav^ 
 read somewhere of a justice of peace, w^ho, on being 
 nominated in the commission, wrote a letter to a book- 
 seller for the statutes respecting his official duty, in the 
 following orthography, — " Please send the ax relating to 
 a gustus pease." No doubt, when this learned gentleman 
 had possessed himself of the axe, he hewed the laws with 
 it to some purpose. ]Mi\ Bertram was not quite so 
 ignorant of English grammar as his worshipful predeces- 
 sor ; but Augustus Pease himself could not have used 
 more indiscriminately the weapon unwarily put into his 
 hand. 
 
 In good earnest, he considered the commission with 
 which he had been entrusted as a personal mark of favour 
 from his sovereign ; forgetting that he had formerly 
 thought his being deprived of a privilege, or honour, 
 common to those of his rank, was the result of mere 
 party cabal. He commanded his trusty aide-de-camp, 
 Dominie Sampson, to read aloud the commission ; and at 
 the first words, " The king has been pleased to appoint '* 
 — " Pleased ! " he exclaimed, in a transport of gratitude — 
 " honest gentleman ! I'm sure he cannot be better pleased 
 than I am." 
 
 Accordingly, unwilling to confine his gratitude to mere 
 feelings, or verbal expressions, he gave full current to the 
 
102 WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 new-bom zeal of office, and endeavoured to express hig 
 sense of the lioncmr conferred upon him, by an unmitigat- 
 ed activity in the discharge of his duty. New brooms, 
 it is said, sweep clean ; and I myself can bear witness, 
 that on the arrival of a new housemaid, the ancient, 
 hereditary, and domestic spiders, who have spun their 
 webs over the lower division of my book shelves (cor ^^ist- 
 ing chiefly of law and divinity) during the peaceful reign 
 of her predecessor, fly at full speed before the probation- 
 ary inroads of the new mercenary. Even so the Laird of 
 Ellangowan ruthlessly commenced his magisterial reform, 
 at the expense of various established and superannuated 
 pickers and stealers, who had been his neighbours for half 
 a century. He wrought his miracles like a second Duke 
 Humphrey; and by the influence of the beadle's rod, 
 caused the lame to walk, the bhnd to see, and the palsied 
 to labour. He detected poachers, black-fishers, orchard- 
 breakers, and pigeon-shooters; had the applause of the 
 bench for his reward, and the public credit of an active 
 magistrate. 
 
 All this good had its ratable proportion of evil. Even 
 an admitted nuisance, of ancient standing, should not be 
 abated without some caution. The zeal of our worthy 
 friend now involved in great distress sundry personages 
 whose idle and mendicant habits his own Idchesse had 
 contributed to foster until these habits had become irre- 
 claimable, or whose real incapacity for exertion rendered 
 them fit objects, in their own phrase, for the charily of all 
 well-disposed Christians. The "long remembered beg- 
 gar," who for twenty years had made his regular rounds 
 within the neighbourhood, received rather as an humble 
 friend than as an object of charity, was sent to the neigh- 
 bouring workhouse. The decrepit dame, who travelled 
 
GUT MANNERING. 103 
 
 round the parish upon a hand-barrow, circulating from 
 house to house like a bad shilling, which every one is in 
 haste to pass to his neighbour, — she who used to call for 
 her bearers as loud, or louder, than a traveller demands 
 post-horses, — even she shared the same disastrous fate. 
 The " daft Jock," who, half knave, half idiot, had been 
 the sport of each succeeding race of village children for a 
 good part of a century, was remitted to the county bride- 
 well, where, secluded from free air and sunshine, the only 
 advantages he was capable of enjoying, he pined and died 
 in the course of six months. The old sailor, who had so 
 long rejoiced the smoky rafters of every kitchen in the 
 country by singing Captain Ward, and Bold Admiral 
 Benhow, was banished from the county for no better 
 reason than that he was supposed to speak with a strong 
 Irish accent. Even the annual rounds of the pedlar were 
 abolished by the Justice in his hasty zeal for the adminis- 
 tration of rural police. 
 
 These things did not pass without notice and censure. 
 We are not made of wood or stone, and the tilings which 
 connect themselves with our hearts and habits cannot, hke 
 bark or lichen, be rent away without our missing them. 
 The farmer's dame lacked her usual share of intelligence, 
 — perhaps also the self-applause, which she had felt while 
 distributing the awmous (alms) in shape of a gowpen 
 (handful) of oatmeal, to the mendicant who brought the 
 news. The cottage felt inconvenience from interruption 
 of tlie petty trade carried on by the itinerant dealers. 
 The children lacked their supply of sugar-plums and 
 toys ; the young women wanted pins, ribbons, combs, and 
 ballads ; and the old could no longer barter their eggs for 
 salt, snuff, and tobacco. All these circumstances brought 
 the busy Laird of EUangowan into discredit, which was 
 
104 WAYEELET NOVELS. 
 
 the more general on account of his former popularity. 
 Even his hneage was brought up in judgment against 
 liim. They thought "naething of what the like of 
 Greenside, or BurnviUe, or Viewforth, might do, that 
 were strangers in the country ; but Ellangowan ! that 
 had l)een a name amang them since the mirk Monanday, 
 and lang before — him to be grinding the puir at that 
 rate ! — They ca'd his grandfather the Wicked Laird ; but 
 though he was whiles fractious aneuch, when he got into 
 roving company, and had ta'en the drap drink, he would 
 have scorned to gang on at this gate. Na, na — the 
 muckle chumlay in the Auld Place reeked hke a killogie 
 in his time, and there were as mony puir folk riving at 
 the banes in the court, and about the door, as there were 
 gentles in the ha'. And the leddy, on ilka Christmas 
 night as it came round, gae twelve siller pennies to ilka 
 puir body about, in honour of the twelve apostles like. 
 They were fond to ca' it papistrie ; but I think our great 
 folk might take a lesson frae the papists whiles. They 
 gie another sort o' help to puir folk than just dinging 
 down a saxpence in the brod on the Sabbath, and kilting, 
 and scourging, and drumming them a' the sax days o' the 
 week besides." 
 
 Such was the gossip over the good twopenny in every 
 ale-house within three or four miles of Ellangowan, that 
 being about the diameter of the orbit in which our friend 
 Godfrey Bertram, Esq. J. P. must be considered as the 
 principal luminary. Still greater scope was given to evil 
 tongues by the removal of a colony of gipsies, with one 
 of whom our reader is somewhat acquainted, and whc 
 had, for a great many years, enjoyed their chief settle 
 ment upon the estate of Ellangowan. 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 105 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 Come, princes of the ragged regiment, 
 You of the blood ! Prigg, my most upright lord, 
 And these, what name or title e'er they bear, 
 Jarkman, or Patrico, Cranke or Clapper-dudgeon^ 
 Frater or Abram-man—I speak of all. — 
 
 Beggar's Bush. 
 
 Although the character of those gipsy tribes, wl ich 
 formerly inundated most of the nations of Europe, and 
 M'hich in some degree still subsist among them as a dis- 
 tinct people, is generally understood, the reader will 
 pardon my saying a few words respecting their situation 
 in Scotland. 
 
 It is well known that the gipsies were, at an early 
 period, acknowledged as a separate and independent race 
 by one of the Scottish monarchs, and that they were less 
 favourably distinguished by a subsequent law, wliich 
 rendered the character of gipsy equal, in the judicial 
 balance, to that of common and habitual thief, and pre- 
 scribed his punishment accordingly. Notwithstanding 
 tl e severity of this and other statutes, the fraternity pros- 
 pered amid the distresses of the country, and received 
 large accessions from among those whom famine, oppres- 
 sion, or the sword of war, had deprived of the ordinary 
 means of subsistence. They lost, in a great measure, by 
 this intermixture, the national character of Egyptians, 
 and became a mingled race, having all the idleness and 
 
106 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 predatory habits of their Eastern ancestors, with a 
 ferocity which they probably borrowed from the men of 
 the north who joined their society. They travelled in 
 different bands, and had rules among themselves, by 
 which each tribe was confined to its own district. The 
 slightest invasion of the precincts which had been as- 
 signed to another tribe produced desperate skirmishes, in 
 which there was often much blood shed. 
 
 The patriotic Fletcher of Saltoun drew a picture of 
 these banditti about a century ago, which my readers will 
 peruse with astonishment : — 
 
 " There are at this day in Scotland (besides a great 
 many poor families very meanly provided for by the 
 church boxes, with others, who, by hving on bad food, 
 fall into various diseases) two hundred thousand people 
 begging from door to door. These are not only no way 
 advantageous, but a very grievous burden to so poor a 
 country. And though the number of them be perhaps 
 double to what it was formerly, by reason of this present 
 gi-eat distress, yet in all times there have been about one 
 hundred thousand of those vagabonds, who have hved 
 without any regard or subjection either to the laws of 
 the land, or even those of God and nature ;***** 
 No magistrate could ever discover, or be informed, which 
 way one in a hundred of these wretches died, or that 
 ever they were baptized. — Many murders have be^n 
 discovered among them; and they are not only a most 
 unspeakable oppression to poor tenants, (who, if they 
 give not bread, or some kind of provision to perhaps 
 forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by 
 them,) but they rob many poor people who live in houses 
 distant from any neighbourhood. In years of plenty 
 many thousands of them meet together in the mountains, 
 
GUY MANNEEIXG. 107 
 
 where they feast and riot for many days; and at country 
 weddmgs, markets, burials, and other the Hke pubhc 
 occasions, they are to be seen, both man and woman, 
 perpetually drunk, cursmg, blaspheming, and fighting 
 together." 
 
 Not^withstanding the deplorable picture presented in 
 this extract, and which Fletcher himself, though the 
 energetic and eloquent friend of freedom, saw no better 
 mode of correcting than by introducing a system of 
 domestic slavery, the pro^^ress of time, and the increase 
 both of the means of life, and of the power of the laws, 
 gradually reduced this dreadful evil within more narrow 
 bounds. The tribes of gipsies, jockeys, or cau'ds, — for 
 by all these denominations such banditti were known, — 
 became few in number, and many were entirely rooted 
 out. Still, however, a sufficient number remained to give 
 occasional alarm and constant vexation. Some rude 
 handicrafts were entirely resigned to these itinerants, 
 particularly the art of trencher-making, of manufacturing 
 horn-spoons, and the whole mystery of the tinker. To 
 these they added a petty trade in the coarse sorts of 
 earthenware. Such were their ostensible means of live- 
 lihood. Each tribe had usually some fixed place of 
 -rendezvous, which they occasionally occupied and consid- 
 ered as their standing camp, and in the vicinity of wliich 
 they generally abstained from depredation. They had 
 even talents and accomplishments, which made them 
 occasionally useful and entertaining. Many cultivated 
 music with success ; and the favourite fiddler or piper of 
 a district was often to be found in a gipsy town. They 
 understood all out-of-door sports, especially otter-hunting, 
 fishing, or finding game. They bred the best and boldest 
 terriers, and sometimes had good pointers for sale. In 
 
108 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 winter, the women told fortunes, the men showed tricks 
 of legerdemain ; and these accomplishments often helped 
 to while awaj a wearj or stormy evening in the circle 
 of the " farmer's ha'." The wildness of their character, 
 and the indomitable pride with which they despised all 
 regular labour, commanded a certain awe, which was not 
 diminished by the consideration that these strollers were 
 a vindictive race, and were restrained by no check, either 
 of fear or conscience, from taking desperate vengeance 
 upon those who had offended them. These tribes were, 
 in short, the Parias of Scotland, hving like wild Indians 
 among European settlers, and, like them, judged of 
 rather by their own customs, habits, and opinions, than as 
 if they had been members of the civilized part of the 
 community. Some hordes of them yet remain, chiefly in 
 such situations as afford a ready escape either into a waste 
 countiy, or into another jurisdiction. Nor are the features 
 of their character much softened. Their numbers, how- 
 ever, are so greatly diminished, that, mstead of one 
 hundred thousand, as calculated by Fletcher, it would 
 now perhaps be impossible to collect above five hundred 
 throughout all Scotland. 
 
 A tribe of these itinerants, to whom Meg Merrilies ap- 
 pertained, had long been as stationary as their habits per- 
 mitted, in a glen upon the estate of Ellangowan. They 
 had there erected a few huts, which they denominated 
 their " city of refuge," and where when not absent on ex- 
 cursions, they harboured unmolested, as the crows that 
 roosted in the old ash-trees around them. They had been 
 such long occupants, that they were considered in some 
 degree as proprietors of the wretched shealings wliich 
 they inhabited. This protection they were said anciently 
 to have repaid, by service to the Laird in war, or, more 
 
GUY MANNERING. 109 
 
 frequently, by infesting or plundering the lands of tliose 
 neighbouring barons with whom he chanced to be at feud. 
 Latterly their services were of a more pacific nature. 
 The women spun mittens for the lady, and knitted boot- 
 hose for the Laird, which were annually presented at 
 Clu'istmas with great form. The aged sibyls blessed the 
 lu'itial bed of the laird when he married, and the cradle 
 of the heir when born. The men repaired her ladyship's 
 cracked china, and assisted the laird in his sporting par- 
 ties, wormed his dogs, and cut the ears of his terrier pup- 
 pies. The children gathered nuts in the woods, and 
 cranberries in the moss, and mushrooms on the pastures, 
 for tribute to the Place. These acts of voluntary service 
 and acknowledgments of dependence, were rewarded by 
 protection on some occasions, connivance on others, and 
 broken victuals, ale and brandy, when circumstances 
 called for a display of generosity ; and this mutual inter- 
 course of good offices, which had been carried on for at 
 least two centuries, rendered the inhabitants of Dern- 
 cleugh a kind of privileged retainers upon the estate of 
 EUangowan. " The knaves " were the Laird's " exceed- 
 ing good friends ; " and he would have deemed himself 
 very ill-used, if his countenance could not now and then 
 have borne them out against the law of the country and 
 the local magistrate. But this friendly union was soon 
 to be dissolved. 
 
 Tlie community of Derncleugh, who cared for no 
 rogues but their owti, were wholly without alarm at the 
 severity of the justice's proceedings towards other itiner- 
 ants. They had no doubt that he determined to suffer no 
 mendicants or strollers in the country but what resided 
 on his own property, and practised their trade by his im- 
 mediate permission, implied or expressed. Nor was Mr, 
 
110 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Bertram in a huny to exert his uewly-acquired authority 
 at the expense of these old settlers. But he was driven 
 on by circumstances. 
 
 At the quarter-sessions, our new justice was pubUcly 
 upbraided by a gentleman of the opposite party in county 
 politics, that, while he affected a great zeal for the public 
 poli(;e, and seemed ambitious of the fame of an active 
 magistrate, he fostered a tribe of the greatest rogues in 
 the country, and permitted them to hai'bour within a mile 
 of the house of EUangowan. To this there was no reply, 
 for the fact was too evident and weU known. The Laird 
 digested the taunt as he best could, and in his way home 
 amused himself mth speculations on the easiest method 
 of ridding himself of these vagrants who brought a stain 
 upon his fair fame as a magistrate. Just as he had re- 
 solved to take the first opportunity of quarrelling with 
 the Parias of Derncleugh, a cause of provocation pre- 
 sented itself. 
 
 Since our friend's advancement to be a conservator of 
 the peace, he had caused the gate at the head of his av- 
 enue, which formerly, having only one hinge, remained 
 at aU times hospitably open — he had caused this gate, I 
 say, to be newly hung and handsomely painted. He had 
 also shut up with paling, curiously twisted with furze, 
 certain holes in the fences adjoining, through which the 
 gipsy boys used to scramble into the plantations to gather 
 ])uds' nests, the seniors of the village to make a short 
 cut from one point to another, and the lads and lasses for 
 evening rendezvous, — all without offence taken or leave 
 asked. But these halcyon days were now to have an 
 end, and a minatory inscription on one side of the gate 
 intimated "prosecution according to law," (the painter 
 had spelt it persecution — I'un vaut bien I'autre) to all 
 
GUY MANNERING. Ill 
 
 who should be found trespassing on these enclosures. On 
 the other side, for uniformity's sake, was a precautionary 
 annunciation of spring-guns and man-traps of such for- 
 midable power, that, said the rubric, with an emphatic 
 nota bene — " if a man goes in, they will break a horse's 
 leg." 
 
 In defiance of these threats, six well-grown gipsy boys 
 and girls were riding cock-horse upon the new gate^ and 
 plaiting May-flowers, which it was but too evident had 
 been gathered within the forbidden precincts. With as 
 much anger as he was capable of feeling, or perhaps of 
 assuming, the Laird commanded them to descend ; they 
 paid no attention to his mandate : he then began to pull 
 them down one after another ; they resisted, passively at 
 least, each sturdy bronzed varlet making himself as heavy 
 as he could, or climbing up as fast as he was dismounted. 
 
 The Laird then called in the assistance of his servant, 
 a surly fellow, who had immediate recourse to his horse- 
 whip. A few lashes sent the party a-scampering ; and 
 thus commenced the first breach of the peace between 
 the house of EUangowan and the gipsies of Derncleugh. 
 
 The latter could not for some time imagine that the 
 war was real ; — until they found that their children were 
 horse-whipped by the grieve when found trespassing ; 
 and their asses were poinded by the ground-officer when 
 left in the plantations or even when turned to graze by 
 the road-side, against the provision of the turnpike acts ; 
 that the constable began to make curious inquiries into 
 their mode of gaining a livehhood, and expressed his sur- 
 prise that the men should sleep in the hovels all day, and 
 be abroad the greater part of the night. 
 
 When matters came to this point, the gipsies, without 
 Bcruple, entered upon measures of retaliation. Ellango- 
 
112 AYAYERLEr X0YEL3. 
 
 wan's hen-roo.?ts were plundered, his linen stolen from 
 the lines or bleaching-ground, his fishings poached, his 
 dogs kidnapped, his gi-owing trees cut or barked. Much 
 petty mischief was done, and some evidently for the mis- 
 chiefs sake. On the other hand, warrants went forth, 
 without mercy, to pursue, seai'ch for, take, and appre- 
 hend ; and. notwithstanding thek dexterity, one or two 
 of the depredators were unable to avoid conviction. One, 
 a si out young fellow, who sometimes had gone to sea 
 a-tishing, was handed over to the captain of the impress 
 
 serWce at D ; two children were soundly flogged, 
 
 and one Egyptian matron sent to the house of correction. 
 Still, however, the gipsies made no motion to leave the 
 spot which they had so long inhabited, and Mr. Bertram 
 felt an unwilHngness to deprive them of their ancient 
 " city of refuge ; " so that the petty warfare we have no- 
 ticed continued for several months, without increase or 
 abatement of hostihties on either side. 
 
 
GUY MANNERINS. 113 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 So the red Indian, by Ontario's side, 
 
 Nursed hardy on the brindled panther's hide, 
 
 As fades his swarthy race, with anguish sees 
 
 The white man's cottage rise beneath the trees : 
 
 He leaves the shelter of his native wood, 
 
 He leaves the murmur of Ohio's flood. 
 
 And forward rushing in indignant grief, 
 
 Where never foot has trod the fallen leaf. 
 
 He bends his course where twilight reigns sublime, 
 
 O'er forests silent since the birih of time. 
 
 Scenes of Infancy. 
 
 In tracing the rise and progress of the Scottish Maroon 
 war, we must not omit to mention that years had rolled 
 on, and that little Harry Bertram, one of the hardiest and 
 most Hvely children that ever made a sword and grena- 
 dier's cap of rushes, now approached his fifth revolving 
 birth-day. A hardihood of disposition, which early 
 developed itself, made him already a little wanderer; 
 he was well acquainted with everj patch of lea ground 
 and dingle around EUangowan, and could tell in his 
 broken language upon what baulks grew the bonniest 
 flowers, and what copse had the ripest nuts. He re- 
 peatedly terrified his attendants by clambering about the 
 ruins of the old castle, and had more than once made a 
 Uolen excursion as far as the gipsy hamlet. 
 
 On these occasions he was generally brought back by 
 Meg Merrihes, who, though she could not be prevailed 
 
J 14 WAVEELEY XOVELS. 
 
 upon to enter the Place of Ellangowan after her nephew 
 had been given up to the pressgang, did not apparently 
 extend her resentment to the child. On the contrary, 
 she often contrived to waylay him in his walks, sing him 
 a gipsy song, give him a ride upon her jackass, and thrust 
 into his pocket a piece of gingerbread or a red-cheeked 
 apple. This woman's ancient attachment to the family, 
 repelled and checked in every other direction, seemed to 
 rejoice in havmg some object on which it could yet repose 
 and expand itself. She prophesied a hundi-ed times, " that 
 young Mr. Harry would be the pride o' the family, and 
 there hadna been sic a sprout frae the auld aik since the 
 death of Arthur Mac-Dingawaie, that was killed in the 
 battle o' the Bloody Bay ; as for the present stick, it was 
 good for naething but fii-ewood." On one occasion, when 
 the child was ill, she lay all night below the window, 
 chanting a rhyme which she believed sovereign as a febri- 
 fuge, and could neither be prevailed upon to enter the 
 house, nor to leave the station she had chosen, till she was 
 informed that the crisis was over. 
 
 The affection of this woman became matter of suspicion, 
 not indeed to the Laird, who was never hasty in suspect- 
 ing evil, but to his wife, who had indifferent health and 
 poor spirits. She was now far advanced in a second 
 pregnancy, and, as she could not walk abroad herself, 
 and the woman who attended upon Harry was young and 
 thoughtless, she prayed Dominie Sampson to undertake 
 the task of watching the boy in his rambles, when he 
 should not be otherwise accompanied. The Dominie 
 loved his young charge, and was enraptured with his own 
 success, in having already brought him so far in his 
 learning as to spell words of three syllables. The idea 
 of this early prodigy of erudition being carried off by the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 115 
 
 gipsies, like a second Adam Smith,* was not to l>e toler- 
 ated ; and accordingly, though the charge was contrary to 
 all his habits of hfe, he readily undertook it, and might 
 be seen stalking about with a mathematical problem in 
 his head, and his eye upon a child of five years old, 
 whose rambles led him into a hundred awkward situa- 
 tions. Twice was the Dominie chased by a cross-grained 
 cow, once he fell into the brook crossing at the stepping- 
 stones, and another time was bogged up to the middle in 
 the slough of Lochend, in attempting to gather a water- 
 hly for the young Laird. It was the opinion of the village 
 matrons who relieved Sampson upon the latter occasion, 
 " that the Laii'd might as weel trust the care o' his bairn 
 to a potato bogle ; " but the good Dominie bore aU his 
 disasters with gravity and serenity equally imperturbable, 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " was the only ejaculation they ever ex- 
 torted from the much-enduring man. 
 
 The Laird had by this time determined to make root- 
 and-branch work with the Maroons of Derncleugh. The 
 old servants shook their heads at his proposal, and even 
 Dominie Sampson ventured upon an indirect remon- 
 strance. As, however, it was couched in the oracular 
 phrase, "iVe moveas Camerinam,^^ neither the aUusion, 
 nor the language in which it was expressed, were cal- 
 culated for ]Mr. Bertram's edification, and matters pro- 
 ceeded against the gipsies in form of law. Every door 
 in the hamlet was chalked by the ground-officer, in token 
 of a formal warning to remove at next term. Still, how- 
 ever, they showed no symptoms either of submission or 
 of comphance. At length the term-day, the fatal Mar- 
 
 * The father of Economical Philosophy, was, when a child, 
 actually carried off by gipsies, and remained some hours in their 
 Dossession, 
 
116 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 tinmas, arrived, and violent measures of ejection were re- 
 sorted to. A strong posse of peace-officers, sufficient to 
 render aU resistance vain, charged the inhabitants to de- 
 part by noon ; and, as they did not obey, the officers, in 
 terms of their warrant, proceeded to unroof the cottages, 
 and pull down the wretched doors and windows, — a sum- 
 mary and effectual mode of ejection, still practised in 
 some remote parts of Scotland, Avhen a tenant proves re- 
 fractory. The gipsies, for a time, beheld the work cf 
 destruction in sullen silence and inactivity ; then set 
 about saddling and loading their asses, and making prep- 
 arations for their departure. These were soon accom- 
 plished, where all had the habits of wandering Tartars ; 
 and they set forth on their journey to seek new settle- 
 ments, where theii* patrons should neither be of the 
 quorum, nor custos rotulorum. 
 
 Certain qualms of feeling had deterred EUangowan 
 from attending in person to see his tenants expelled. He 
 left the executive part of the business to the officers of 
 the law, under the immediate direction of Frank Kennedy, 
 a supervisor, or riding-officer, belonging to the excise, 
 who had of late become intimate at the Place, and of 
 whom we shall have more to say in the next chapter. 
 !Mr. Bertram himself chose that day to make a visit to a 
 friend at some distance. But it so happened, notwith- 
 standing his precautions, that he could not avoid mciet- 
 ing his late tenants during their retreat from hid 
 property. 
 
 It was in a hoUow way, near the top of a steep ascent, 
 upon the verge of the EUangowan estate, that Mr. Ber- 
 tram met the gipsy procession. Four or five men formed 
 the idvanced guard, wi'apped in long loose great-coats 
 that hid their tall slender figures, as the large slouched 
 
GUY MANNERING. 117 
 
 hats, drawn over their brows, concealed their wild 
 features, dark eyes, and swarthy faces. Two of them 
 carried lou^ fowhng-pieces, one wore a broadsword with- 
 out a sheath, and all had the Highland dirk, though they 
 did not wear that weapon openly or ostentatiously. 
 Behind them followed the train of laden asses, and smaU 
 carts, or tumblers SiS they were called in that country, on 
 vvhich were laid the decrepit and the helpless, the aged 
 and infant part of the exiled conununity. The women in 
 their red cloaks and straw hats, the elder children with 
 bare heads and bai'e feet, and almost naked bodies, had 
 the immediate care of the little caravan. The road was 
 narrow, rumiing between two broken banks of sand, and 
 Mr. Bertram's servant rode forward, smacking his whip 
 with an aii* of authority, and motioning to the drivers to 
 allow free passage to their betters. His signal was un- 
 attended to. He then called to the men who lounged 
 idly on before, " Stand to your beasts' heads, and make 
 room for the Laird to pass.'* 
 
 " He shall have his share of the road," answered a 
 male gipsy from under his slouched and large brimmed 
 hat, and without raising his face, " and he shall have nae 
 mair ; the highway is as free to our cuddies as to his 
 gelding." 
 
 The tone of the man being sulky, and even menacing, 
 JMr. Bertram thought it best to put his dignity in his 
 pocket, and pass by the procession quietly, on such space 
 as they chose to leave for his accommodation, which was 
 narrow enough. To cover with an appearance of in- 
 difference his feeling of the want of respect with which 
 he was treated, he addressed one of the men, as he 
 passed without any show of greeting, salute, or recogni- 
 tion, — " Giles Baillie," he said, " have you heard that 
 
118 WAVERLEy NOVELS. 
 
 your son Gabriel is weU ? " (The question respected the 
 young man who had been pressed.) 
 
 " If I had heard otherwise," said the old man, looking 
 up w^ith a stern and menacing countenance, " you should 
 have heard of it too." And he plodded on his way, 
 tarrying no farther questions.* When the Laird had 
 pressed on with difficulty among a crowd of familiar faces, 
 which had on all former occasions marked his approa€h 
 with the reverence due to that of a superior being, but in 
 which he now only read hatred and contempt, and had 
 got clear of the throng, he could not help turning liis 
 horse, and looking back to mark the progress of their 
 march. The group would have been an excellent subject 
 for the pencil of Calotte. The van had already reached 
 a small and stunted thicket, which was at the bottom of 
 the hill, and which gradually hid the Une of march until 
 the last stragglers disappeared. 
 
 His sensations were bitter enough. The race, it is 
 true, which he had thus summarily dismissed from their 
 ancient place of refuge, was idle and vicious ; but had he 
 endeavoured to render them otherwise ? They were not 
 more irregular characters now than they had been while 
 they were admitted to consider themselves as a sort of 
 subordinate dependents of his family ; and ought the mere 
 circumstance of his becoming a magistrate to have made 
 SiX once such a change in his conduct towards them ? 
 Some means of reformation ought at least to have been 
 tried, before sending seven famiUes at once upon the wide 
 world, and depriving them of a degree of countenance, 
 which withheld them at least from atrocious guilt. There 
 was al?o a natural yearning of heart on parting witl so 
 
 * This anecdote is a literal fact. 
 
GUY MANNERLNG. 119 
 
 many known and familiar faces ; and to this feeling God- 
 frey Bertram was peculiarly accessible, from the Hmited 
 quaUties of his mind, which sought its principal amuse- 
 ments among the petty objects around him. As he was 
 about to turn his horse's head to pursue his journey, Meg 
 Merrilies, who had lagged behind the troop, unexpe':'tedly 
 presented herself. 
 
 She was standing upon one of those high, precipitous 
 banks, which, as we before noticed, overhung the road ; so 
 that she was placed considerably liiglier than EUangowan, 
 even though he was on horseback ; and her tall figure, 
 relieved against the clear blue sky, seemed almost of 
 supernatural stature. We have noticed that there was in 
 her general attire, or rather in her mode of adjusting it, 
 somewhat of a foreign costume, artfuUy adopted perhaps 
 for the purpose of adding to the effect of her spells and 
 predictions, or perhaps from some traditional notions 
 respecting the dress of her ancestors. On this occasion, 
 she had a large piece of red cotton cloth roUed about her 
 head in the form of a turban, from beneath which her 
 dark eyes flashed with uncommon lustre. Her long and 
 tangled black hair fell in elf-locks from the folds of this 
 singular head-gear. Her attitude was that of a sibyl in 
 frenzy, and she stretched out in her right hand a sapling 
 bough, which seemed just pulled. 
 
 " I'll be d — d," said the groom, " if she has not been 
 
 cutting the young ashes in the Dukit park " — The 
 Laird made no answer, but continued to look at the figure 
 which was thus perched above his path. 
 
 " Ride your ways," said the gipsy, " ride your ways, 
 Laird of EUangowan — ride your ways, Godfrey Ber- 
 tram ! — This day have ye quenched seven smoking 
 hearths — see if the fire in your ain parlour burn the 
 
120 WAVERLEY ^'OVELS. 
 
 blither for that. Ye have riven the thack off seven 
 cottar houses — look if jour ain roof-tree stand the faster. 
 — Ye may stable your stirks in the shealings at Dern- 
 cleugh — see that the hare does not couch on the hearth- 
 stane at EUangowan. — Ride your ways, Godfrey Bertram 
 — what do ye glower after our folk for ? — There's tliirty 
 heai'ts there that wad hae wanted bread ere ye had 
 wanted sunkets,* and spent their life-blood ere ye had 
 scratched youi- finger. Yes — there's thirty yonder, from 
 the auld wife of an hundred to the babe that was born 
 last week, that ye have turned out o' their bits o' bields, 
 to sleep with the tod and the blackcock in the muirs ! — 
 Ride your ways, EUangowan. — Our baims aie hinging 
 at oui- weary backs — look that your braw cradle at hame 
 be the fairer spread up ; not that I'm wishing ill to little 
 Harry, or to the babe that's yet to be bom — God forbid 
 — and make them kind to the poor, and better folk than 
 their father I — And now, ride e'en your ways ; for these 
 are the last words ye'll ever hear Meg Merrihes speak, 
 and this is the last reise that I'll ever cut in the bonny 
 woods of EUangowan." 
 
 So saying, she broke the sapKng she held in her hand, 
 and flung it into the road. Margaret of Anjou, bestowing 
 on her triumphant foes her keen-edged malediction, could 
 not have turned from them vdih a gesture more proudly 
 contemptuous. The Laird was clearing his voice to speak, 
 and thi-usting his hand in his pocket to find a half-crown ; 
 the gipsy waited neither for his reply nor his donation, 
 but strode down the hiU to overtake the caravan. 
 
 EUangowan rode pensively home ; and it was remai-k- 
 able that he did not mention this interview to any of his 
 
 * Delicacies. 
 
OUT MAJiNERING. 
 
 1^- 
 
 family. The groom was not so reserved; he told tL^t 
 story at great length to a full audience in the kitchen, 
 and concluded by sweai'ing, that " if ever the devil spoke 
 by the mouth of a woman, he had spoken by that of Meg 
 Meri-ihes that blessed day." 
 
1^'2 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Paint Scotland greeting ower her thrissie 
 Her mutchkin stoup a6 toom's a -whistle, 
 And d n'd excisemen in a bustle, 
 
 Seizing a st«ll ; 
 Triumphant crushin't like a mussell, 
 
 Or lampit sheU. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 DuRmG the period of ]Mr. Bertram's active magistracy 
 he did not forget the affairs of the revenue. Smugghng, 
 for which the Isle of Man then afforded pecuhar facihties, 
 was general, or rather universal, all along the south- 
 western coast of Scotland. Almost aU the common 
 people were engaged in these practices ; the gentry con- 
 nived at them, and the of&cers of the revenue were fre- 
 quently discountenanced in the exercise of their duty by 
 those who should have protected them. 
 
 There was, at this period, employed as a riding officer 
 or supervisor, in that part of the country, a certain 
 Francis Kennedy, ah-eady named in our naiTative ; a 
 stout, resolute, and active man, who had made seizui*es to 
 a great amo^mt, and was proportionally hated by those 
 who had an interest in the fair trade, as they called the 
 pursuit of these contraband adventurers. This person 
 was natural son to a gentleman of good family, owing to 
 which cii'cumstance, and to his being of a jolly convivial 
 disposition, and singing a good song, he was admitted to 
 the occasional society of the gentlemen of the country, 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 123 
 
 and was a member of several of their clubs for practising 
 athletic games, at which he was particularly expert. 
 
 At EUangowan, Kennedy was a frequent and always 
 an acceptable guest. His vivacity relieved Mr. Bertram 
 of the trouble of thought, and the labour which it cost 
 him to support a detailed communication of ideas ; while 
 the daring and dangerous exploits w^hich he had under- 
 taken in the discharge of his office, formed excellent con- 
 versation. To all these revenue adventures did the 
 Laird of EUangowan seriously incline, and the amuse- 
 ment which he derived from Kennedy's society, formed 
 an excellent reason for countenancing and assisting the 
 narrator in the execution of his invidious and hazardous 
 duty. 
 
 " Frank Kennedy," he said, " was a gentleman, though 
 on the wrang side of the blanket — he was connected with 
 the family of EUangowan through the house of Glen- 
 gubble. The last Laird of Glengubble would have 
 brought the estate into the EUangowan line ; but hap- 
 pening to go to Harrigate, he there met with Miss Jean 
 Hadaway — ^by the by, the Green Dragon at Harrigate is 
 the best house of the twa ; — but for Frank Kennedy, he's 
 in one sense a gentleman born, and it's a shame not to 
 support him against these blackguard smugglers." 
 
 After this league had taken place between judgment 
 and execution, it chanced that Captain Dirk Hatteraick 
 had landed a cargo of spirits, and other contraband goods 
 upon the beach not far from EUangowan, and, confiding 
 in the indifference with which the Laird had formerly 
 regarded similar infractions of the law, he was neither 
 very anxious to conceal nor to expedite the transaction. 
 The consequence was, that ]Mi\ Frank Kennedy, armed 
 with a warrant from EUangowan, and supported by some 
 
124 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 of the Laird's people who knew the country, and by a 
 party of military, poured down upon the kegs, bales, and 
 bags, and after a desperate affray, in wliich severe wounds 
 were given and received, succeeded in clapping the broad 
 arrow upon the articles, and bearing them off in triumph 
 to the next custom-house. Dirk Hatteraick vowed, in 
 Dutch, German, and English, a deep and full revenge, 
 both against the ganger and his abettors; and all who 
 knew him thought it hkely he would keep his word. 
 
 A few days after the departure of the gipsy tribe, Mr, 
 Bertram asked his lady one morning at breakfast, whether 
 this was not little Harry's birth-day ? 
 
 " Five years auld, exactly, this blessed day," answered 
 the lady ; " so we may look into the English Gentleman's 
 paper." 
 
 Mr. Bertram liked to show his authority in trifles. 
 " No, my dear, not till to-mori'ow. The last time I was 
 at quarter-sessions, the sheriff told us that dies — that dies 
 inceptus — in short — you don't understand Latin — but it 
 means that a term day is not begun tiU it's ended." 
 
 " That sounds like nonsense, my dear." 
 
 " May be so, my dear ; but it may be very good law 
 for all that. I am sure, speaking of term-days, I wish, as 
 Frank Kennedy says, that Whitsunday would kill Mar- 
 tinmas, and be hanged for the murder — for there I have 
 got a letter about that interest of Jenny Cairns's, and 
 deil a tenant's been at the Place yet wi' a boddle of rent, 
 — ^nor will not till Candlemas — but, speaking of Frank 
 Kennedy, I dare say he'll be here the day, for he was 
 way round to Wigton to warn a king's ship that's lying 
 in the bay about Dirk Hatteraick's lugger being on the 
 coast again, and he'll be back this day ; so we'll have a 
 bottle of claret, and drink little Harry's health." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 125 
 
 " I wish," replied the ladj, " Frank Kennedy would 
 let Dirk Hatteiaick alane. What needs he make himself 
 mair busy than other folk ? Cannot he smg his' sang, and 
 take his di"ink, and draw his salary, like Collector Snail, 
 honest man, that never fashes onybody ? And I wonder 
 at you. Laird, for meddling and making — Did we ever 
 want to send for tea or brandy frae the Borough-town, 
 when Dirk Hatteraick used to come quietly into the 
 bay?'' 
 
 " Mrs. Bertram, you know nothing of these matters. 
 Do you think it becomes a magistrate to let his own 
 house be made a receptacle for smuggled goods ? Frank 
 Kennedy will show you the penalties in the act, and ye 
 ken yoursell they used to put their run goods into the 
 Auld Place of EUangowan up by there." 
 
 " Oh, dear, Mr. Bertram, and what the waur were the 
 wa's and the vault o' the auld castle for having a whin 
 kegs o' brandy in them at an orra time ? I am sure ye 
 were not obliged to ken onything about it ; — and what the 
 waur was the King that the lairds here got a soup o' 
 drink, and the ladies their drap o' tea, at a reasonable 
 rate ? — it's a shame to them to pit such taxes on them ! — 
 and was na I much the better of these Flanders head and 
 pinners, that Dirk Hatteraick sent me a' the way from 
 Antwerp? It will be lang or the King sends me onything, 
 or Frank Kennedy either. — And then ye would quarrel 
 with these gipsies too ! I expect every day to hear the 
 barn-yard's in a low." 
 
 " I tell you once more, my dear, you don't understand 
 these things — and there's Frank Kennedy coming gallop- 
 ing up the avenue." 
 
 '" Aweel, i.iveel, EUangowan," said the lady, raising her 
 voice as the Laird left the room, " I wish ye may under- 
 stand them yoursell, that's a' ! " 
 
126 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 From tliis nuptial dialogue the Laird joyfully escaped 
 to meet his faithful friend, jMi*. Kennedy, who arrived in 
 high spirits. " For the love of life, EUangowan," he 
 said, " get up to the castle ! you'll see that old fox Dirk 
 Ilatteraick, and his Majestj-'s hounds in full cry aftei 
 him. So saymg, he flung his horse's bridle to a boy, and 
 r.'m up the ascent to the old castle, followed by the Laird, 
 and mdeed by several others of the family, alarmed by 
 the sound of guns from the sea, now distmctly heard." 
 
 On gaining that part of the ruins which commanded 
 the most extensive outlook, they saw a lugger, with all 
 her canvass crowded, standing across the bay, closely 
 pursued by a sloop of war, that kept firing upon the 
 chase from her bows, which the lugger retm'ned with her 
 stem-chasers. " They're but at long bowls yet," cried 
 Kennedy, in great exultation, " but they will be closer 
 
 by and by. D — n him, he's starting his cargo ! I see 
 
 the good Nantz pitching overboard, keg after keg ! — that's 
 
 a d d unwnteel thing of Mr. Hatteraick, as I shall 
 
 let him know by and by. — Xow, now ! they've got the 
 wind of him ! — that's it, that's it ! — Hark to him ! hark to 
 him ! Now, my dogs ! now, my dogs ! — hark to Ranger, 
 hark ! " 
 
 " I thmk," said the old gardener to one of the maids, 
 " the gauger's Jie ; " by which word the common people 
 express those violent spmts which they think a presage 
 of death. 
 
 Meantime the chase continued. The lugger, being 
 piloted with great abihty, and using eveiy nautical shift 
 to make her escape, had now reached, and was about to 
 double the headland which formed the extreme point of 
 land on the left side of the bay, when a ball having hit 
 the yard in the slmgs, the mainsail fell upon the deck. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 127 
 
 The consequence of tliis accident appeared inevitable, but 
 could not be seen by the spectators ; for the vessel, which 
 had just doubled the headland, lost steerage, and fell out 
 of their sight behind the promontory. The sloop of war 
 crowded all sail to pursue, but she had stood too close 
 upon the cape, so that they were obliged to weai' the 
 VRSsel for fear of going ashore, and to make a lai'ge tack 
 back into the bay, in order to recover sea-room enough to 
 double the headland. 
 
 " They'll lose her, by ! — cargo and lugger, one or 
 
 both," said Kennedy. " I must gallop away to the Point 
 of Warroch, (this was the headland so often mentioned,) 
 and make them a signal where she has drifted to on the 
 other side. Good-by for an hour, EUangowan — get out 
 the gallon punch-bowl, and plenty of lemons. I'll stand 
 for the French article by the time I come back, and we'll 
 drink the young Laird's health in a bowl that would swim 
 the Collector's yawl." So saying, he mounted his horse 
 and galloped ojQT. 
 
 About a mile from the house, and upon the verge of 
 the woods, which, as we have said, covered a promontory 
 terminating in the cape called the Point of Warroch, 
 Kennedy met young Harry Bertram, attended by his 
 tutor. Dominie Sampson. He had often promised the 
 child a ride upon his galloway ; and, from singing, danc- 
 ing, and playing Punch for his amusement, was a partic- 
 ular favourite. He no sooner came scampering up the 
 path, than the boy loudly claimed his promise ; and Ken- 
 nedy, who saw no risk in indulging him, and wished to 
 lease the Dominie, in whose visage he read a remon- 
 strance, caught up HaiTy from the ground, placed him 
 before him, and contmued his route ; Sampson's " Perad- 
 venture, Master Kennedy " being lost in the -ilatter 
 
128 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 of his horse's feet. The pedagogue hesitated a moment 
 whether he should go after them ; but Kennedy being a 
 person in full confidence of the family, and with whom he 
 liimself had no delight in associating, " being that he was 
 addicted unto profane and scurrilous jests," he continued 
 his own walk at his own pace, till he reached the Place 
 of EUangowan. 
 
 The spectators from the ruined walls of the castle were 
 Btili watching the sloop of war, which at length, but not 
 without the loss of considerable time, recovered sea-room 
 enough to weather the Point of Warroch, and was lost to 
 their sight behind that wooded promontory. Some time 
 afterwards the discharges of several cannon were heard at 
 a distance, and, after an interval, a still louder explosion, 
 as of a vessel blown up, and a cloud of smoke rose above 
 the trees, and mingled wdth the blue sky. All then sepa- 
 rated on their different occasions, auguring variously upon 
 the fate of the smuggler, but the majority insisting that 
 her capture was inevitable, if she had not already gone 
 to the bottom. 
 
 " It is near our dinner-time, my dear," said JVIrs. 
 Bertram to her husband ; " will it be lang before JVIr. 
 Kennedy comes back ? " 
 
 " I expect him every moment, my dear," said the 
 Laird ; " perhaps he is bringing some of the officers of 
 the sloop with him." 
 
 " My stars, ]VIr. Bertram ! why did not ye tell me this 
 Ijkcfore, that we might have had the large round table ? 
 and then, they're a' tired o' saut meat, and, to tell you the 
 plain truth, a rump o' beef is the best part of your 
 dinner — and then I wad have put on another go\\Ta, and 
 ye wadna have been the waur o' a clean neckcloth your- 
 sell — But ye dehght in surprising and hurrying one — I 
 
GUT MANNEKING. 129 
 
 ani sure I am no to haud out for ever against this sort 
 of going on. — But when folk's missed, then they are 
 moaned." 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! deuce take the beef, and the gown, 
 and table, and the neckcloth ! — we shall do all very well. — 
 "Where's the Dominie, Jolm ? — (to a servant who was 
 busy about the table) — wbere's the Dominie and little 
 Harry ? " 
 
 " Mr. Sampson's been at hame these twa hours and 
 mair, but I dinna think Mr. Harry cam hame wi' him." 
 
 ^' Not come hame wi' him ? " said the lady ; " desire 
 Mr. Sampson to step this way directly." 
 
 " Mr. Sampson," said she, upon his entrance, " is it not 
 the most extraordinary thing in this world wide, that you, 
 that have free up-putting — bed, board, and washing — and 
 twelve pounds sterling a-year, just to look after that 
 boy, should let him out of your sight for twa or three 
 hours?" 
 
 Sampson made a bow of humble acknowledgment at 
 each pause which the angry lady made in her enumera- 
 tion of the advantages of his situation, in order to give 
 more weight to her remonstrance, and then, in words 
 which we will not do him the injustice to imitate, told 
 how Mr. Francis Kennedy " had assumed spontaneously 
 the charge of Master Harry, in despite of his remon- 
 strances in the contrary." 
 
 " I am very Uttle obliged to Mr. Francis Kennedy for 
 his pains," said the lady peevishly ; " suppose he lets the 
 boy drop from his horse, and lames him ? or suppose 
 one of the cannons comes ashore and kills him ?- 
 
 suppose 
 
 " Or suppose, my dear," said Ellangowan, " what is 
 much more likely than any thing else, that they have 
 
 VOL. III. 9 
 
130 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 gone aboard the sloop or the prize, and are to come round 
 the Point with the tide ? " 
 
 " And then they may be dro^Yned," said the lady. 
 
 "Verily," said Sampson, "I thought i\Ir. Kennedy had 
 returned an hour since — Of a surety, I deemed I heard 
 his horse's feet." 
 
 " That," said John, with a broad grin, " was Grizzel 
 chasing the humble-cow * out of the close." 
 
 Sampson coloured up to the eyes — not at the implied 
 taunt, which he would never have discovered, or resented 
 if he had, but at some idea which crossed his own mind. 
 " I have been in an error," he said, " of a surety I should 
 have tarried for the babe." So saying, he snatched his 
 bone-headed cane and hat, and hurried away towards 
 Warroch wood, fatter than he was ever known to walk 
 before, or after. 
 
 The Laird hngered some time, debating the point with 
 the lady. At length he saw the sloop of war again make 
 her appearance ; but, without approaching the shore, she 
 stood away to the westward, with all her sails set, and 
 was soon out of sight. The lady's state of timorous and 
 fretful apprehension was so habitual, that her fears went 
 for nothing with her lord and master ; but an appearance 
 of disturbance and anxiety among the seiwants now ex- 
 cited his alarm, especially when he was called out of the 
 room, and told in private that ]Mr. Kennedy's horse had 
 come to the stable door alone, with the saddle turned 
 round below its belly, and the reins of the bridle broken ; 
 and that a farmer had informed them in passing, that 
 there was a smuggling lugger burning like a furnace on 
 the other side of the Point of Warroch, and that, though 
 
 * A cow without horns. 
 
GTJT MANXERING. 131 
 
 he had come tlirougli the wood, he had seen or heard 
 notliing of Kennedy or the young Laird, " only there was 
 Dominie Sampson, gaun rampauging about, like mad, 
 seeking for them." 
 
 All was now bustle at Ellangowan. The Laird and 
 his servants, male and female, hastened to the wood of 
 Warroch. The tenants and cottagers in the neighbour- 
 hood lenl their assistance, partly out of zeal, partly from 
 curiosity. Boats were manned to search the sea-shore, 
 which, on the other side of the Point, rose into high and 
 indented rocks. A vague suspicion was entertained, 
 though too horrible to be expressed, that the child might 
 have fallen from one of these cliffs. 
 
 The evening had begun to close when the parties 
 entered the wood, and dispersed different ways in quest 
 of the boy and his companion. The darkening of the 
 atmosphere and the hoarse sighs of the November wind 
 through the naked trees, the rustling of the withered 
 leaves which strewed the glades, the repeated halloos of 
 the different parties, which often drew them together in 
 expectation of meeting the objects of their search, gave 
 a cast of dismal sublimity to the scene. 
 
 At length, after a minute and fruitless investigation 
 through the wood, the searchers began to draw together 
 into one body and to compare notes. The agony of the 
 father grew beyond concealment, yet it scarcely equalled 
 the anguish of the tutor. " Would to God I had died for 
 him ! " the affectionate creature repeated, in tones of the 
 deepest distress. Those who were less interested, rushed 
 into a tumultuary discussion of chances and possibilities. 
 Each gave his opinion, and each was alternately swayed 
 by that of the others. Some thought the objects of their 
 Bearch had gone aboard the sloop ; some, that they had 
 
132 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 gone to a village at three miles distance ; some whispered 
 they might have been on board the lugger, a few planks 
 and beams of which the tide now di'ifted ashore. 
 
 At this instant, a shout was heard from the beach, so 
 loud, so shrill, so piercing, so different from every sound 
 which the woods that day had rung to, that nobody hesi- 
 tated a moment to beheve that it conveyed tidings, and 
 tidings of di'eadful import. All hurried to the place, and, 
 venturing without scruple upon paths which at another 
 time they would have shuddered to look at, descended 
 towards a cleft of the rock, where one boat's crew was 
 already landed. " Here, sirs ! — ^here ! — this way, for God's 
 sake ! — this way ! this way ! " was the reiterated cry. — 
 Ellangowan broke through the throng which had abeady 
 assembled at the fatal spot, and beheld the object of their 
 terror. It was the dead body of Kennedy. At first sight 
 he seemed to have perished by a fall from the rocks, 
 which rose above the spot on which he lay, in a perpen- 
 dicular precipice of a hundred feet above the beach. The 
 corpse was lying half in, half out of the water ; the ad- 
 vancing tide, raising the arm and stirring the clothes, had 
 given it at some distance the appearance of motion, so 
 that those who first discovered the body thought that life 
 remained. But every spark had been long extinguislied. 
 
 " My bairn ! my bairn ! " cried the distracted fathei', 
 " where can he be ? " — A dozen mouths were open to 
 communicate hopes which no one felt. Some one at 
 length mentioned the gipsies ! In a moment Ellan- 
 gowan had reascended the cliffs, flung himseff upon the 
 first horse he met, and rode furiously to the huts at 
 Derncleugh. All was there dark and desolate ; and, as 
 he dismounted to make more minute search, he stumbled 
 over fragments of furniture which had been thrown out 
 
GUY JIANNERLNG. 133 
 
 of the cottages, and the broken wood and thatch which 
 had been pulled down by his orders. At that moment 
 the prophecy or anathema of Meg Merrilies fell heavy on 
 his mind. " You have stripped the thatch from seven 
 cottages, — see that the roof-tree of yom* own house stand 
 ths surer ! " 
 
 " Eestore," he cried, " restore my bairn ! bring me 
 back my son, and all shall be forgot and forgiven ! " As 
 he uttered these words in a sort of frenzy, his eye caught 
 a glimmering of light in one of the dismantled cottages — ■ 
 it was that in which Meg Merrilies formerly resided. 
 The light, which seemed to proceed from fire, glimmered 
 not only through the window, but also through the rafters 
 of the hut where the roofing had been torn off". 
 
 He flew to the place ; the entrance was bolted ; despair 
 gave the miserable father the strength of ten men : he 
 rushed against the door with such violence, that it gave 
 way before the momentum of his weight and force. The 
 cottage was empty, but bore marks of recent habitation : 
 there was fire on the hearth, a kettle, and some prepara- 
 tion for food. As he eagerly gazed round for something 
 that might confirm his hope that his child yet hved, 
 although in the power of those strange people, a man 
 entered the hut. 
 
 It was his old gardener. " Oh sir ! " said the old man, 
 " such a night as this I trusted never to Hve to see ! — ye 
 maun come to the Place directly ! " 
 
 " Is my boy found ? — is he alive ? — have ye found 
 Harry Bertram ? — Andrew, have ye found Harry Ber- 
 tram?" 
 
 "No, sir; but" 
 
 " Then he is kidnapped ! I am sure of it, Andrew — ■ 
 as sure as that I tread upon earth ! She has stolen him 
 
134 ^ATERLET XOVELS. 
 
 •^and I mil never stir from tMs jDlace till I have tidings 
 of mj bairn ! " 
 
 " 0, but ye maim come hame, sir ! ye maun come 
 Lame ! we have sent for the Sheriff, and we'll set a 
 watch here a' night, in case the gipsies return ; but you-^ 
 
 ye maun come hame, sii', for my lady's in the dead- 
 
 thraw."* 
 
 Bertram turned a stupefied and unmeaning eye on the 
 messenger who uttered this calamitous news ; and, re- 
 peating the words " in the dead-thi*aw ! " as if he could 
 not comprehend their meaning, suffered the old man to 
 drag him towards his horse. Duiiug the ride home, he 
 only said, " Wife and bairn, baith — mother and son, 
 baith — Sair, sair to abide ! " 
 
 It is needless to dwell upon the new scene of agony 
 which awaited him. The news of Kennedy's fate had 
 been eagerly and incautiously communicated at Ellan- 
 gowan, with the gratuitous addition, that, doubtless, " he 
 had di'awn the young Lau'd over the craig with him, 
 though the tide had swept away the child's body — ^he 
 was hght, puir thmg ! and would flee fai'ther into the 
 surf." 
 
 Mrs. Bertram heard the tidings ; she was far advanced 
 in her pregnancy ; she fell into the pains of premature 
 labour, and ere Ellangowan had recovered his agita:ed 
 faculties, so as to comprehend the full distress of his 
 situation, he was the father of a female infant, and a 
 widower. 
 
 * Death-agony. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 135 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 But see, his face is black, and full of blood; 
 
 His eye-balls farther out than when he lived, 
 
 Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; 
 
 His hair upreared, his nostrils stretched with struggling, 
 
 His hands abroad displayed, as one that gasped 
 
 And lugged for life, and was by strength subdued. 
 
 Henbt IV. Part First. 
 
 The Sheriff-depute of the county arrived at Ellan- 
 gowan next morning by daybreak. To this provincial 
 magistrate the law of Scotland assigns judicial powers 
 of considerable extent, and the task of inquiring into all 
 crimes committed within his jurisdiction, the apprehension 
 and commitment of suspected persons, and so forth.* 
 
 The gentleman who held the office in the shire of ■ 
 
 at the time of this catastrophe, was well born and well 
 educated ; and, though somewhat pedantic and profes- 
 sional in his habits, he enjoyed general respect as an 
 active and intelligent magistrate. His first employment 
 was to examine all witnesses whose evidence could throw 
 light upon this mysterious event, and make up the written 
 report, proces verbal, or precognition, as it is technically 
 called, which the practice of Scotland has substituted for 
 a coroner's inquest. Under the Sheriff's minute and 
 skilful inquiry, many circumstances appeared which 
 
 * The Scottish Sheriff discharges, on such occasions as that now 
 mentioned, pretty much the same duty as a Coroner. 
 
136 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 seemed incompatible with the original opinion that Ken 
 nedj had accidentally fallen from the cliff. We shall 
 briefly detail some of these. 
 
 The body had been deposited in a neighbouring fisher- 
 hut, but without altering the condition in which it was 
 found. This was the first object of the Sherijff's exam- 
 ination. Though fearfully crushed and mangled by tha 
 fall from such a height, the corpse was found to exhibit a 
 deep cut in the head, which, in the opinion of a skilful 
 surgeon, must have been inflicted by a broadsword, or 
 cutlass. The experience of this gentleman discovered 
 other suspicious indications. The face M^as much black- 
 ened, the eyes distorted, and the veins of the neck swelled. 
 A coloured handkerchief, which the unfortunate man 
 wore round his neck, did not present the usual appear- 
 ance, but was much loosened, and the knot displaced and 
 dragged extremely tight : the folds were also compressed, 
 as if it had been used as a means of grappling the de- 
 ceased, and dragging him perhaps to the precipice. 
 
 On the other hand, poor Kennedy's purse was found 
 untouched ; and what seemed yet more extraordinary, 
 the pistols wliich he usually carried when about to 
 encounter any hazardous adventure, were found in his 
 pockets loaded. This appeared particularly strange, for 
 he was known and dreaded by the contraband traders as 
 a man equally fearless and dexterous in the use of his 
 weapons, of which he had given many signal proofs. 
 The Sheriff inquired, whether Kennedy was not in the 
 practice of carrying any other arms. Most of Mr. 
 Bertram's servants recollected that he generally had a 
 coufeau de chasse, or short hanger, but none such was 
 fouijd upon the dead body ; nor could those who had 
 Been him on the morning of the fatal day, take it 
 
GUY MANNERING. 137 
 
 upon them to assert whether he then carried that weapon 
 or not. 
 
 The corpse afforded no other indicia respecting the 
 fate of Kennedy ; for, though the clothes were much 
 displaced, and the hmbs dreadfully fractured, the one 
 seemed the probable, the other the certain, consequences of 
 such a fall. The hands of the deceased were clenched fast, 
 and fuH of turf and earth ; but this also seemed equivocal. 
 
 The magistrate then proceeded to the place where the 
 coqDse was first discovered, and made those who had 
 found it give, upon the spot, a particular and detailed 
 account of the manner in which it was lying. A large 
 fragment of the rock appeared to have accompanied, or 
 followed the fall of the victim from the cHff above. It 
 was of so sohd and compact a substance, that it had 
 fallen, without any great dimunition by splintering, so that 
 the Sherifl was enabled, first to estimate the weight by 
 measurement, and then to calculate, from the appearance 
 of the fragment, what portion of it had been bedded into 
 the cliff from which it had descended. This was easily 
 detected by the raw appearance of the stone where it had 
 not been exposed to the atmosphere ; they then ascended 
 the cHff and surveyed the place from whence the stony 
 fragment had fallen. It seemed plain, from the appear- 
 ance of the bed, that the mere weight of one man stand- 
 ing upon the projecting part of the fragment, supposing 
 it in its original situation, could not have destroyed its 
 balance, and precipitated it, with himself, from the cliff. 
 At the same time, it appeared to have lain so loose, that 
 the use of a lever, or the combined strength of thi-ee or 
 four men, might easily have hurled it from its position. 
 The short turf about the brink of the precipice was much 
 trampled, as if stamped by the heels of men in a mortal 
 
138 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Struggle, or in the act of some violent exertion. Traces 
 of the same kind, less visibly marked, guided the sagacious 
 investigator to the verge of the copsewood, which in that 
 place crept high up the bank towards the top of the 
 precipice. 
 
 Witli patience and perseverance, they traced tlieso 
 marks into the thickest part of the copse, a route wliich 
 no person would have voluntarily adopted, unless for the 
 purpose of concealment. Here they found plain vestiges 
 of violence and struggling, from space to space. Small 
 boughs were torn down, as if grasped by some resisting 
 wretch, who was dragged forcibly along ; the gTound, 
 wdiere in the least degree soft or marshy, showed the 
 print of many feet ; there were vestiges also, which 
 might be those of human blood. At any rate, it was 
 certain that several persons must have forced their pas- 
 sage among the oaks, hazels, and underwood, with which 
 they were mingled ; and in some places appeared traces 
 as if a sack full of grain, a dead body, or something of 
 that heavy and solid description, had been dragged along 
 the ground. In one part of the thicket there .was a small 
 swamp, the clay of which was whitish, being probably 
 mixed with marl. The back of Kennedy's coat appeared 
 besmeared with stains of the same colour. 
 
 At length, about a quarter of a mile from the brink of 
 the fatal precipice, the traces conducted them to a small 
 open space of ground, very much trampled, and plainly 
 stained with blood, although withered leaves had been 
 strewed upon the spot, and other means hastily taken to 
 efface the marks, which seemed obviously to have been 
 derived from a desperate affray. On one side of this 
 patch of open ground, was found the sufferer's naked 
 hanger, which seemed to have been thrown into ;he 
 
GUY MANNERING. 139 
 
 thicket ; ou the other, the belt and sheath, wliich appeared 
 to have been hidden with more leisurely care and precau- 
 tion. 
 
 The magistrate caused the foot-prints which marked 
 this spot to be carefully measured and examined. Some 
 corresponded to the foot of the unhappy victim ; some 
 were larger, some less ; indicating that at least four or 
 five men had been busy around him. Above all, here, 
 and here only, were observed the vestiges of a child's 
 foot ; and as it could be seen nowhere else, and the hard 
 horse-track which traversed the wood of Warroch was 
 contiguous to the spot, it was natural to think that the 
 boy might have escaped in that direction during the con- 
 fusion. But as he was never heard of, the Sheriff, who 
 made a careful entry of all these memoranda, did not 
 suppress his opmion that the deceased had met with foul 
 play, and that the murderers, whoever they were, had 
 possessed themselves of the person of the cliild Harry 
 Bertram. 
 
 Every exertion was now made to discover the crimi- 
 nals. Suspicion hesitated between the smugglers and 
 the gipsies. The fate of Dirk Hatteraick's vessel was 
 certain. Two men from the opposite side of Warroch 
 Bay (so the inlet on the southern side of the Point of 
 Warroch is called) had seen, though at a gi-eat distance, 
 the lugger drive eastward, after doubhng the headland, 
 and, as they judged from her manoeuvres, in a disabled 
 state. Shortly after, they perceived that she grounded, 
 smoked, and finally took fire. She was, as one of them 
 expressed himself, in a light low (bright flame) when they 
 observed a king's ship, with her colours up, heave in sight 
 from behind the cape. The guns of the burning vessel 
 discharged themselves as the fii-e reached them ; and they 
 
140 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 saw her at length blow up with a great explosion. The 
 sloop of war kept aloof for her own safety ; and after 
 hovering till the other exploded, stood away southward 
 under a press of sail. The Sheriff anxiously interro- 
 gated these men whether any boats had left the vesseh 
 They could not say — they had seen none — but they might 
 have put off in such a direction as placed the burning 
 vessel, and the thick smoke which floated landward from 
 it, between their course and the witnesses' observation. 
 
 That the ship destroyed was Du'k Hatteraick's, no one 
 doubted. His lugger. was well known on the coast, and 
 had been expected just at this time. A letter from the 
 commander of the king's sloop, to whom the Sheriff made 
 apphcation, put the matter beyond doubt ; he sent also 
 an extract from his log-book of the transactions of the 
 day, which intimated their being on the outlook for a 
 smuggling lugger, Du*k Hatteraick master, upon the in- 
 formation and requisition of Francis Kennedy, of liis 
 Majesty's excise service ; and that Kennedy was to be 
 upon the outlook on the shore, in case Hatteraick, who 
 was known to be a desperate fellow, and had been re- 
 peatedly outlawed, should attempt to run his sloop aground. 
 About nine o'clock, a.m. they discovered a sail, which 
 answered the description of Hatteraick's vessel, chased 
 her, and after repeated signals to her to show colours and 
 bring to, fired upon her. The chase then showed Ham- 
 burgh colours, and returned the fire ; and a running fight 
 was maintained for three hours, when, just as the lugger 
 was doubling the Point of Warroch, they observed that 
 the main-yard was shot in the slings, and that the vessel 
 was disabled. It was not in the power of the man-of 
 war's men for some time to profit by the circumstance, 
 owing to their having kept too much in shore for doubling 
 
GUT MANNERING. 141 
 
 the headland. After two tacks, they accomplished this^ 
 and observed the chase on fii-e, and apparently deserted. 
 The fire having reached some casks of spirits, which were 
 placed on the deck, with other combustibles, probably on 
 purpose, burnt with such fury, that no boats durst approach 
 the vessel, especially as her shotted guns were discharg- 
 ing, one after another, by the heat. The captain had no 
 doubt whatever that the crew had set the vessel on fire, 
 and escaped in their boats. After watching the confla- 
 gration till the ship blew up, his Majesty's sloop, the 
 Shark, stood towards the Isle of Man, with the purpose 
 of intercepting the retreat of the smugglers, who, though 
 they might conceal themselves in the Avoods for a day or 
 two, would probably take the first opportunity of endeav- 
 ouring to make for this asylum. But they never saw 
 more of them than is above narrated. 
 
 Such was the account given by "William Pritchard, 
 master and commander of his Majesty's sloop of war 
 Shark, who concluded by regretting deeply that he had 
 not had the happiness to fall in with the scoundrels, who 
 had had the impudence to fire on his Majesty's flag, and 
 with an assurance, that, should he meet Mr. Dirk Hatter- 
 aick in any future cruise, he would not fail to bring him 
 into port under his stern, to answer whatever might be 
 alleged against him. 
 
 As, therefore, it seemed tolerably certain that the men 
 on board the lugger had escaped, the death of Kennedy, 
 if he fell in with them in the woods, when irritated by 
 the loss of their vessel, and by the share he had in it, was 
 easily to be accounted for. And it was not improbable, 
 that to such brutal tempers, rendered desperate by their 
 own circumstances, even the murder of the child, against 
 whose father, as having become suddenly active in the 
 
142 WAYEELET NOVELS. 
 
 prosecution of smugglers, Hatteraick was known to have 
 uttered deep tlu^eats, would not appear a very heinous 
 crime. 
 
 Against this hypothesis it was urged, that a crew of 
 fifteen or twenty men could not have lain hidden upon 
 the coast when so close a search took place immediately 
 after the destruction of their vessel ; or, at least, that if 
 they had hid themselves in the woods, their boats must 
 have been seen on the beach ; — that in such precarious 
 circumstances, and when all retreat must have seemed 
 difficult, if not impossible, it was not to be thought that 
 they would have all united to commit a useless murder, 
 for the mere sake of revenge. Those who held this 
 opinion supposed, either that the boats of the lugger had 
 stood out to sea without being observed by those who 
 were intent upon gazing at the burning vessel, and so 
 gained safe distance before the sloop got round the head- 
 land ; or else, that, the boats being staved or destroyed 
 by the fire of the shot during the chase, the crew had 
 obstinately determined to perish with the vessel. What 
 gave some countenance to this supposed act of despera- 
 tion was, that neither Dirk Hatteraick nor any of his 
 sailors, all well-known men in the fah-trade, were again 
 seen upon that coast, or heard of in the Isle of Man, 
 where strict inquiry was made. On the other hand, only 
 one dead body, apparently that of a seaman killed by a 
 cannon-shot, drifted ashore. So all that could be done 
 was to register the names, description, and appearance of 
 the individuals belonging to the ship's company, and 
 offer a reward for the apprehension of them, or any one 
 of them ; extending also to any person, not the actual 
 murderer, who should give evidence tending to convict 
 those who had murthered Francis Kennedy. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 143 
 
 Another opinion, which was also plausibly supported, 
 went to charge this horrid crime upon the late tenants 
 of Derncleugh. They were known to have resented 
 highly the conduct of the Laird of Ellangowan towards 
 them, and to have used threatenmg expressions, which 
 eveiy one supposed them capable of carrying mto effect. 
 The kidnapping the child was a crime much more con- 
 sistent with theu' habits than with those of smugglers, and 
 his temporary guardian might have fallen in an attempt 
 to protect him. Besides, it was remembered that Ken- 
 nedy had been an active agent, two or three days before, 
 in the forcible expulsion of these people from Derncleugh, 
 and that harsh and menacing language had been ex- 
 changed between him and some of the Egyptian patri- 
 archs on that memorable occasion. 
 
 The Sheriff received also the depositions of the unfor- 
 tunate father and his servant, concerning what had passed 
 at their meeting the caravan of gipsies, as they left the 
 estate of Ellangowan. The speech of Meg Merrilies 
 seemed particularly suspicious. There was, as the magis- 
 trate observed in his law language, damnum minatum — 
 a damage, or evil turn, threatened, and malum secutum — 
 an evil of the very kind predicted, shortly afterwards 
 following. A young woman, who had been gathering 
 nuts in Warroch wood upon the fatal day, was also 
 strongly of opinion, though she declined to make positive 
 oath, that she had seen Meg Merrilies, at least a woman 
 of her remarkable size and appearance, start suddenly out 
 of a thicket — she said she had called to her by name, but, 
 as the figure turned from her, and made no answer, she 
 was uncertain if it were the gipsy or her wraith, and was 
 afraid to go nearer to one who was always reckoned, in 
 the vulgar phrase, no canny. This vague story received 
 
144 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 some corroboration from the circumstance of a fire being 
 that evening found in the gips}^s deserted cottage. To 
 this fact EUangowan and his gardener bore evidence. 
 Yet it seemed extravagant to suppose, that, had this 
 woman been accessory to such a dreadful crime, she 
 would have returned that very evening on which it was 
 committed, to the place of all others, where she was most 
 likely to be sought after. 
 
 Meg Merrilies was, however, apprehended and ex- 
 amined. She denied strongly having been either at 
 Derncleugh or in the wood of Warroch upon the day 
 of Kennedy's death; and several of her tribe made oath 
 in her behalf, that she had never quitted their encamp- 
 ment, which was in a glen, about ten miles distant from 
 Ellangowan. Their oaths were indeed little to be trusted 
 to ; — ^but what other evidence could be had in the circum- 
 stances ? There was one remarkable fact, and only one, 
 which arose from her examination. Her arm appeared 
 to be sHghtly wounded by the cut of a sharp weapon, and 
 was tied up with a handkercliief of Harry Bertram's. 
 But the chief of the horde acknowledged he had " cor- 
 rected her " that day with his whinger — she herself, and 
 others, gave the same account of her hurt ; and for the 
 handkerchief, the quantity of linen stolen from Ellan- 
 gowan during the last months of their residence on the 
 estate, easily accounted for it, without charging Meg with 
 a more heinous crime. 
 
 It was observed, upon her examination, that she treated 
 tlie questions respecting the death of Kennedy, or " the 
 ganger," as she called him, with indifference ; but ex- 
 pressed gi'eat and emphatic scorn and indignation at 
 being supposed capable of injuring little Haiiy Beitram. 
 She was long confined in gaol under the hope that some- 
 
GUT MANNERING. 
 
 145 
 
 tiling might yet be discovered to throw light upon this 
 dark and bloody transaction. Nothing, however, oc- 
 curred ; and Meg was at length liberated, but under sen- 
 tence of banishment from the county as a vagrant, 
 common thief, and disorderly person. No traces of the 
 boy could ever be discovered ; and, at length, the story, 
 after making much noise, was gradually given up as 
 altogether inexplicable, and only perpetuated by the 
 name of "The Gauger's Loup," which was generally 
 bestowed on the cliff from which the unfortunate man 
 had fallen or been precipitated. 
 
 10 
 
146 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Enter Time, as Giorus. 
 T — that please some, try all ; both joy and terror 
 Of good and bad ; that make and unfold error — 
 Now take upon me, in the name of Time, 
 To use my wings. Impute it not a crime 
 To me, or my swift passage, that I slide 
 O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried 
 Of that wide gap. — ^ 
 
 "Wlnt:eb's Tale. 
 
 Our narration is now about to make a large stride, 
 and omit a space of nearly seventeen years ; during which 
 nothing occurred of any particular consequence with re- 
 spect to the story we have undertaken to tell. The gap 
 is a wide one; yet if the reader's experience in life 
 enables him to look back on so many years, the space 
 will scarce appear longer in his recollection than the time 
 consumed in turning these pages. 
 
 It was, then, in the month of November, about seven- 
 teen years after the catastrophe related in the last chap- 
 ter, that, during a cold and stormy night, a social group 
 had closed round the kitchen fire of the Gordon Arras at 
 Kippletringan, a small but comfortable inn, kept by Mrs. 
 ]VIac-Candlish in that village. The conversation which 
 passed among them will save me the trouble of telling 
 the few events occurring during this chasm in our history, 
 with which it u necessary that the reader should be 
 acquainted. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 147 
 
 Mrs. Mao-Catidlisli, throned' in a comfortable easy 
 chair lined with black leather, was regaling herself, and 
 a neighbouring gossip or two, with a cup of genuine tea, 
 and at the same time keeping a sharp eye upon her 
 domestics, as they went and came in prosecution of their 
 various duties and commissions. The clerk and precentor 
 of the parish enjoyed at a little distance his Saturday 
 night's pipe, and aided its bland fumigation by an occa- 
 sional sip of brandy and water. Deacon Bearcliff, a man 
 of great importance in the village, combined the in- 
 dulgence of both parties — he had his pipe and his tea- 
 cup, the latter being laced with a little spirits. One 
 or two clowns sat at some distance, drinking their two- 
 penny ale. 
 
 " Are ye sure the parlour's ready for them, and the fire 
 burning clear, and the chimney no smoking ? " said the 
 hostess to a chambermaid. 
 
 She was answered in the affirmative. — "Ane wadna 
 be uncivil to them, especially in their distress," said she, 
 turning to the Deacon. 
 
 " Assuredly not, Mrs. Mac-Candlish ; assuredly not. I 
 am sure ony sma' thing they might want frae my shop, 
 under seven, or eight, or ten pounds, I would book them 
 as readily for it as the first in the country. — Do they 
 come in the auld chaise ? " 
 
 " I dare say no," said the precentor ; " for Miss Ber- 
 tram comes on the white powny ill^a day to the kirk— • 
 and a constant kirk -keeper she is — and it's a pleasure to 
 hear her singing the psalms, winsome young thing." 
 
 " Ay, and the young Laird of Hazlewood rides hame 
 half the road wi' her after sermon," said one of the 
 gossips in company: "I wonder how auld Hazlewood 
 likes that." 
 
148 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " I kenna how he may hke it now," answered anothel 
 of the tea-drinkers ; " but the day has been when Ellan- 
 gowan wad hae hked as Httle to see liis daughter taking 
 up with their son." 
 
 "Ay, has 5eew," answered the first, with somewhat of 
 emphasis. 
 
 " I am sure, neighbour Ovens," said the hostess, " the 
 
 Hazlewoods of Hazlewood, though they are a very gudo 
 
 auld family in the county, never thought, till witliin these 
 
 twa score o' years, of evening themselves till the EUan- 
 
 gowans. — Wow, woman, the Bertrams of Ellangowan are 
 
 the auld Dingawaies lang syne — there is a sang about 
 
 ane o' them marrying a daughter of the King of Man ; 
 
 it begins, 
 
 Blythe Bertram's ta'en him ower the faem, 
 To wed a wife and bring her hame 
 
 I daur say IMr. Skreigh can sing us the ballant." 
 
 " Gudewife," said Ski-eigh, gathering up his mouth, 
 and sipping his tiff of brandy punch with great solemnity, 
 " our talents were gien us to other use than to sing daft 
 auld sangs sae near the Sabbath-day." 
 
 " Hout fie, JSIr. Skreigh ; I'se warrant I hae heard you 
 sing a blythe sang on Saturday at e'en before now. — But 
 as for the chaise, Deacon, it hasna been out of the coach- 
 house since INlrs. Bertram died, that's sixteen or seventeen 
 years sin syne. — Jock Jabos is away wi' a chaise of mine 
 for them ; — I wonder he's no come back. It's pit mirk — 
 but there's no an ill turn on the road but twa, and the 
 brigg ower Warroch burn is safe eneugh, if he haud to 
 the right side. But then there's Heavieside-brae, that's 
 just a murder for post-cattle — but Jock kens the road 
 brawly." 
 
 A loud rapping was heard at the door. 
 
GUr MANNERING. 149 
 
 " That's no them. I didna hear the wheels. — Grizzel, 
 yo hmmer, gang to the door." 
 
 " It's a smgle gentleman," whined out Grizzel ; " maun 
 I take him into the parlour ? " 
 
 " Foul be in your feet, then ; it'll be some English 
 rider. Coming without a servant at this time o' night ! — 
 Has the ostler ta'en the horse ? — Ye may Hght a spunk o* 
 fir3 in the red room." 
 
 " I wish, ma'am," said the traveller, entering the 
 kitchen, " you would give me leave to warm myself here, 
 for the night is very cold." 
 
 His appearance, voice, and manner, produced an in- 
 stantaneous effect in his favour. He was a handsome, 
 tall, thin figure, dressed in black, as appeared when he 
 laid aside his riding-coat ; his age might be between forty 
 and fifty ; his cast of features grave and interesting, and 
 his air somewhat military. Every point of his appear- 
 ance and address bespoke the gentleman. Long habit 
 had given Mrs. Mac-Candhsh an acute tact in ascertain- 
 ing the quality of her visitors, and proportioning her 
 reception accordingly : — 
 
 To every guest the appropriate speech was made, 
 
 And every duty with distinction paid ; 
 
 Respectful, easy, pleasant, or polite — 
 
 "Your honour's servant! — Mister Smith, good night." 
 
 On the present occasion, she was low in her curtsey, 
 and profuse in her apologies. The stranger begged his 
 horse might be attended to — she went out herself to 
 school the ostler. 
 
 " There was never a prettier bit o' horse-flesh in the 
 stable o' the Gordon Arms," said the man ; which infor- 
 mation increased the landlady's respect for the rider. 
 Finding, on her return, that the stranger decKned to go 
 
150 . A7AYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 into another apartment, (which indeed, she allowed, would 
 be but cold and smoky till the fii'e bleezed up,) she in- 
 stiilled her guest hospitably by the fii-e-side, and offered 
 what refreshment her house afforded. 
 
 " A cup of your tea, ma'am, if you will favour me." 
 
 ]Mrs. Mac-Candlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot 
 with hyson, and proceeded in her duties with her best 
 grace. " We have a very nice pai'lour, sir, and t very 
 thing very agreeable for gentlefolks ; but it's bespoke the- 
 night for a gentleman and liis daughter, that are going to 
 leave this part of the country — ane of my chaises is gane 
 for them, and will be back forthwith. They're no sae 
 weel in the warld as they have been ; but we're a' subject 
 to ups and downs in this Hfe, as your honour must needs 
 ken — but is not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to your 
 honour ? " 
 
 " By no means, ma'am ; I am an old campaigner, and 
 perfectly used to it. — Will you permit me to make some 
 inquiries about a family in this neighbourhood ? " 
 
 The sound of wheels was now heard, and tlie landlady 
 hurried to the door to receive her expected guests ; but 
 returned in an instant, followed by the postihon. — " No, 
 they canna come at no rate, the Laird's sae ill." 
 
 '' But God help them ! " said the landlady, " the morn's 
 the term — the very last day they can bide in the house — ' 
 a' thing's to be roupit." 
 
 " Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye — IMr. 
 Bertram canna be moved." 
 
 " What Mr. Bertram ? " said the stranger ; " not JSIr. 
 Bertram of Ellangowan, I hope ? " 
 
 " Just e'en that same, sir ; and if ye be a friend o' his, 
 ye have come at a time when he's sair bested." 
 
 " I have been abroad for many years ; — is his healtk 
 so much deranged ? " 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 151 
 
 *' A J, and his affairs an a'," said the Deacon ; " the 
 creditors have entered into possession o' the estate, and 
 it's for sale ; and some that made the maist hj him — I 
 name uae names, but Mrs. Mac-Candhsh kens wha I 
 mean" — (the landlady shook her head significantly) — ■ 
 " they're sairest on him e'en now. I have a sma' matter 
 due mysell, but I would rather have lost it than gane to 
 tu]"n the iiuld man out of his house, and him just dying." 
 
 " Ay, but," said the parish clerk, " Factor Glossin 
 wants to get rid of the auld Laird, and drive on the sale, 
 for fear the heir-male should cast up upon them ; for I 
 have heard say, if there was an heir-male, they 
 couldna sell the estate for auld EUangowan's debt." 
 
 " He had a son born a good many years ago," said the 
 stranger ; " he is dead, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Nae man can say for that," answered the clerk, mys- 
 teriously. 
 
 " Dead ! " said the Deacon ; " I'se warrant him dead 
 lang syne ; he hasna been heard o' these twenty years or 
 thereby." 
 
 " I wot weel it's no twenty years," said the landlady ; 
 " it's no abune seventeen at the outside in this very 
 month ; it made an unco noise ower a' this country — the 
 bairn disappeared the very day that Supervisor Kennedy 
 cam by his end. — If ye kenn'd this country lang syne, 
 ycur honour wad maybe ken Frank Kennedy the Super- 
 visor. He was a heartsome pleasant man, and company 
 for the best gentlemen in the county, and muckle mirth 
 he's n:ade in this house. I was young then, sh, and 
 newly married to Bailie Mac-Candlish, that's dead and 
 gone — (a sigh) — and muckle fun I've had wi' the Super- 
 /isor. He was a daft dog. — 0, an he could hae hauden 
 aff the smugglers a bit ! but he was aye venturesome.— 
 
152 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 And so ye see, sir, there was a king's sloop do^vn in 
 Wigton bay, and Frank Kennedy, he behoved to have 
 her up to chase Du-k Hatteraick's lugger — ^ye'U mind 
 Dirk Hatteraick, Deacon ? I dare say ye may have dealt 
 wi' him — (the Deacon gave a sort of acquiescent nod and 
 humph.) He was a daring chield, and he fought hia 
 ship till she blew up like peeHngs of ingans ; and Frank 
 Kennedy he had been the first man to board, and he was 
 flung like a quarter of a mile off, and fell into the water 
 below the rock at Warroch Point, that they ca' the 
 Ganger's Loup to this day." 
 
 " And Mr. Bertram's child," said the stranger, " what 
 is all this to him ? " 
 
 " Ou, sir, the bairn aye held an unca wark wi' the 
 Supervisor ; and it was generally thought he went on 
 board the vessel alang wi' him, as bairns are aye forward 
 to be in mischief." 
 
 " No, no," said the Deacon, " ye're clean out there, 
 Luckie — ^for the young Laird was stown away by a randy 
 gipsy woman they ca'd Meg Merrilies, — I mind her looks 
 weel, — in revenge for EUangowan having gar'd her be 
 drumm'd through Kippletringan for steaUng a silver 
 spoon." 
 
 " If ye'U forgie me. Deacon," said the precentor, " ye're 
 e'en as far wrang as the gudewife." 
 
 " And what is your edition of the story, sir ? " said the 
 stranger, turning to him with interest. 
 
 " That's maybe no sae canny to tell," said the precen- 
 tor, with solemnity. 
 
 Upon being urged, however, to speak out, he preluded 
 with two or three large puffs of tobacco-smoke, and out 
 of the cloudy sanctuary which these whiffs formed around 
 him, deUvered the following legend, having cleared his 
 
GUT MANNERING. 153 
 
 voice with one or two hems, and imitating, as near as he 
 could, the eloquence which weekly thundered over his 
 head from the pulpit. 
 
 " What we are now to deliver, my brethren, — hem — 
 hem, — I mean, mj good friends, — was not done in a 
 corner, and may serve as an answer to witch-advocates, 
 atheists, and misbehevers of all kinds. Ye must know 
 that the worshipful Laird of Ellangowan was not so 
 preceese as he might have been in clearing his land of 
 witches, (concerning whom it is said ' Thou shalt not 
 suffer a witch to live,') nor of those who had familiar 
 spirits, and consulted with divination, and sorcery, and 
 lots, which is the fashion with the Egyptians, as they ca' 
 themsells, and other unhappy bodies, in this our country. 
 And the Laird was three years married without having a 
 family — and he was sae left to himsell, that it was 
 thought he held ower muckle troking and communing wi' 
 that Meg Merrilies, wha was the maist notorious witch 
 in a' Galloway and Dumfries-shire baith." 
 
 " Aweel, I wot there's something in that," said Mrs. 
 Mac-Candlish ; " I've kenn'd him order her twa glasses 
 o' brandy in this very house." 
 
 " Aweel, gudewife, then the less I lee. — Sae the lady 
 was wi' bairn at last, and in the night when she should 
 have been delivered, there comes to the door of the ha' 
 house — the Place of Ellangowan as they ca'd — an an- 
 cient man, strangely habited, and asked for quarters 
 His head, and his legs, and his arms were bare, although 
 it was winter time o' the year, and he had a grey beard 
 three quarters lang. Weel, he was admitted ; and when 
 the lady was delivered, he craved to know the very mo- 
 ment of the hour of the birth, and he went out and con- 
 sulted the stars. And when he came back, he tell'd the 
 
154 -WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Laird, that the Evil One would have power over the knavo 
 bairn that was that night born, and he charged him that 
 the babe should be bred up in the ways of piety, and that 
 he should aye hae a godly minister at his elbow, to pray 
 wi' the bairn and for him. And the aged man vanished 
 away, and no man of this country ever saw mair o' him." 
 
 " Now, that will not pass," said the postilion, who, at a 
 respectful distance, was listening to the conversation, 
 " begging ]Mr. Skreigh's and the company's pardon, — 
 there was no sae mony hairs on the warlock's face as 
 there's on Letter-Gae's* ain at this moment ; and he had 
 as gude a pair o' boots as a man need streik on his legs, 
 and gloves too ; — and I should understand boots by this 
 time, I think." 
 
 « Whisht, Jock," said the landlady. 
 
 " Ay ? and what do ye ken o' the matter, friend Jabos ? " 
 said the precentor, contemptuously. 
 
 " No muckle, to be sure, ]Mr. Skreigh — only that I 
 lived within a penny-stane cast o' the head o' the avenue 
 at Ellangowan, when a man cam jinghng to our door 
 that night the young Laird was born, and my mother 
 sent me, that was a hafilin callant, to show the stranger 
 the gate to the Place, Avhich, if he had been sic a war- 
 lock, he might hae kenn'd himsell, ane wad think — and 
 he was a young, weel-faured, weel-dressed lad, like an 
 EngUshman. And I tell ye he had as gude a hat, and 
 boots, and gloves, as ony gentleman need to have. To 
 be sure he did gie an awsome glance up at the auld castle 
 —and tliere ivas some spae-wark gaed on — I aye heard 
 that ; but as for his vanishing, I held the stirrup mysell 
 when he gaed away, and he gied me a round half-crown 
 
 * The precentor is called by Allan Ramsay, — " The Letter-Gae of 
 haly rhyme." 
 
GUr MANNERING. 155 
 
 — ^he was riding on a haick they ca'd Souple Sam — ^it 
 belanged to the George at Dumfries — it was a blood-bay 
 beast, very ill o' the spavin — I hae seen the beast baith 
 before and since." 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, Jock," answered Mr. Sla-eigh, with a 
 tone of mild solemnity, " our accounts differ in no material 
 particulars ; but I had no knowledge that ye had seen 
 the man. — So ye see, my friends, that this soothsayer 
 having prognosticated evil to the boy, his father engaged 
 a godly minister to be with him morn and night." 
 
 " Ay, that was him they ca'd Dominie Sampson," said 
 the postilion. 
 
 " He's but a dumb dog that," observed the Deacon ; 
 "I have heard that he never could preach five words 
 of a sermon endlang, for as lang as he has been 
 licensed." 
 
 " Weel, but," said the precentor, waving his hand, as 
 if eager to retrieve the command of the discourse, " he 
 waited on the young Laird by night and day. Now it 
 chanced, when the bairn was near five years auld, that 
 the Laird had a sight of his errors, and determined to 
 put these Egyptians aff his ground ; and he caused them 
 to remove ; and that Frank Kennedy, that was a rough 
 swearing fellow, he was sent to turn them off. And he 
 cursed and damned at them, and they swure at him ; and 
 that Meg MerriUes, that was the maist powerfu' with tho 
 Enemy of Mankind, she as gude as said she would have 
 him, body and soul, before three days were ower his 
 head. And I have it from a sure hand, and that's ane 
 wha saw it, and that's John Wilson that was the Laird's 
 gi'oom, that Meg appeared to the Laird as he was riding 
 hame from Singleside, over Gibbie's-know, and threatened 
 him wi' what she wad do to his family ; but whether it 
 
156 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 was Meg, or something waur in her Hkeness, for it 
 seemed bigger than ony mortal creature, John could not 
 say." 
 
 " Aweel," said the postilion, " It might be sae — I 
 canna say against it, for I was not in the country at the 
 time ; but John Wilson was a blustering kind of chield, 
 without the heart of a sprug." 
 
 " And what was the end of all this ? " said the stranger, 
 with some impatience. 
 
 " Ou, the event and upshot of it was, sir," said the 
 precentor, " that while they were all looking on, behold- 
 ing a king's ship chase a smuggler, this Kennedy sud- 
 denly brake away frae them, without ony reason that 
 could be descried — ropes nor tows wad not hae held 
 him— and made for the wood of Warroch as fast as his 
 beast could carry him ; and by the way he met the young 
 Laird and his governor, and he snatched up the bairn, 
 and swure, if he was bewitched, the baim should have 
 the same luck as him ; and the minister followed as fast 
 as he could, and almaist as fast as them, for he was won- 
 derfully swift of foot — and he saw Meg the witch, or her 
 master in her similitude, rise suddenly out of the ground, 
 and claught the baim suddenly out of the ganger's arms 
 — and then he rampauged and drew his sword — for ye 
 ken a fie man and a cusser fearsna the deil." 
 
 " I beheve that's very true," said the postihon. 
 
 " So, sir, she grippit him, and clodded him hke a stane 
 from the shng ower the craigs of Warroch-head, where 
 he was found that evening — but what became of the 
 babe, frankly I cannot say. But he that was minister 
 here then, that's now in a better place, had an opinion 
 that the bairn was only conveyed to Fairy -land for a 
 Beason " 
 
GUT MANNERING. 157 
 
 The stranger had smiled slightly at some parts of this 
 recital, but ere he could answer, the clatter of a horse's 
 hoofs was heard, and a smart servant, handsomely dressed, 
 with a cockade in his hat, bustled into the kitchen, with 
 " Make a little room, good people ; " when, observing the 
 stranger, he descended at once into the modest and c\\ il 
 domestic, his hat sunk down by his side, and he put a 
 letter into his master's hands. " The family at Ellango- 
 wan, sir, are in great distress, and unable to receive any 
 visits." 
 
 " I know it," replied his master. — " And now, madam, 
 if you will have the goodness to allow me to occupy the 
 parlour^you mentioned, as you are disappointed of your 
 guests " 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, and hastened 
 to light the way with all the imperative bustle which an 
 active landlady loves to display on such occasions. 
 
 " Young man," said the Deacon to the servant, filling 
 a glass, " ye'U no be the waur o' this, after your ride." 
 
 " Not a feather, sir, — thank ye — your very good health, 
 sir." 
 
 " And wha may your master be, friend ? " 
 
 " What, the gentleman that was here ? — ^that's the 
 famous Colonel Mannering, sir, from the East Indies." 
 
 " What, him we read of in the newspapers ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, just the same. It was he reheved Cuddie- 
 burn, and defended Chingalore, and defeated the greao 
 Mahratta Chief, Ram Jolli Bundleman — I was with him 
 in most of his campaigns." 
 
 " Lord safe us," said the landlady, " I must go see 
 what he would have for supper — that I should set him 
 down here ! " 
 
 " 0, he likes that all the better, mother ; — ^you never 
 
158 
 
 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 saw a plainei* creature in your life than our old Colonel } 
 and yet he has a spice of the devil in him too." 
 
 The rest of the evening's conven'^.tion below stairs 
 tending httle to edification, we shaU 'vitt *^e reader's 
 leave, step up to the pai-lour. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 159 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 ■ Reputation? that's man's idol 
 
 Set up against God, the Maker of all laws, 
 Who hath commanded us we should not kill. 
 And yet we say we must, for Reputation ! 
 What honest man can either fear his own, 
 Or else will hurt another's reputation? 
 Fear to do hase unworthy things is valour; 
 If they be done to us, to suffer them 
 
 Is valour too. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 The Colonel was walking pensively up and down the 
 parlour, when the officious landlady re-entered to take 
 his commands. Having given them in the manner he 
 thought would be most acceptable " for the good of the 
 house," he begged to detain her a moment. 
 
 " I think," he said, " madam, if I understood the good 
 people right, Mr. Bertram lost his son in his fifth year ? " 
 
 " O ay, sir, there's nae doubt o' that, though there ai'e 
 mony idle clashes about the way and manner ; for it's 
 an auld story now, and everybody tells it, as we were 
 doing, their ain way by the ingleside. But lost the bairn 
 was in his fifth year, as your honour says. Colonel ; and 
 the news being rashly tell'd to the leddy, then great with 
 child, cost her her life that samyn night — and the Laird 
 never throve after that day, but was just careless of every 
 thing — though, when his daughter Miss Lucy grew up, 
 she tried to keep order within doors — but what could 
 
160 TVAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 she do, poor thing ? — so now they're out of house and 
 hauld." 
 
 " Can you recollect, madam, about what time of the 
 year the child was lost ? " The landlady, after a pause, 
 and some recollection, answered, " she was positive it was 
 about this season ; " and added some local recollections 
 that fixed the date in her memory, as occurring about the 
 beginning of November, 17 — . 
 
 The stranger took two or three turns round the room 
 in silence, but signed to ]\Irs. Mac-Candlish not to leave 
 it. 
 
 " Did I rightly apprehend," he said, " that the estate 
 of EUangowan is in the market ? " 
 
 " In the market ? — ^it will be sell'd the morn to the 
 highest bidder — that's no the morn, Lord help me ! which 
 is the Sabbath, but on Monday, the first free day ; and 
 the furniture and stocking is to be roupit at the same 
 time on the ground. It's the oj^inion of the haill country, 
 that the sale has been shamefully forced on at this time, 
 when there's sae Uttle money stirring in Scotland wi' this 
 weary American war, that somebody may get the land a 
 bargain — Deil be in them, that I should say sae ! " — the 
 good lady's wrath rising at the supposed injustice. 
 
 " And where will the sale take place ? " 
 
 " On the premises, as the advertisement says — that's at 
 the house of EUangowan, your honour, as I understand 
 it." 
 
 " And who exhibits the title-deeds, rent-roll, and plan ? " 
 
 " A very decent man, sir ; the Sherifi'-substitute of the 
 county, who has authority from the Court of Session. 
 He's in the town just now, if your honour would like to 
 see him ; and he can tell you mair about the loss of the 
 bairn than onybody, for the Sheriff-depute (that's his 
 
GUY MANNERING. 161 
 
 principal, like) took mucli pains to come at the truth o' 
 that matter, as I have heard." 
 
 " And this gentleman's name is " 
 
 " Mac-Morlan, sir, — he's a man o' character, and weel 
 Bpoken o'." 
 
 " Send my comphments — Colonel Mannering's com- 
 pliments to him, and I would be glad he would do me the 
 pleasure of supping with me, and bring these papers with 
 him — and I beg, good madam, you will say nothing of 
 this to any one else." 
 
 "Me, sir? ne'er a word shall I say — I wish your 
 honour (a curtsey), or ony honourable gentleman that's 
 fought for his country (another curtsey), had the land, 
 since the auld family maun quit (a sigh), rather than that 
 wily scoundrel, Glossin, that's risen on the ruin of the 
 best friend he ever had — and now I think on't, I'll shp 
 on my hood and pattens, and gang to Mr. Mac-Morlan 
 mysell — he's at hame e'en now — its hardly a step." 
 
 " Do so, my good landlady, and many thanks — and 
 bid my servant step here with my portfoHo in the mean- 
 time." 
 
 In a minute or two, Colonel Mannering was quietly 
 seated with his writing materials before him. We have 
 the privilege of looking over his shoulder as he wiites, 
 and we willingly communicate its substance to our readers. 
 The letter was addressed to Arthur Mervyn, Esq. of 
 Mervyn-Hall, Llanbraithwaite, Westmoreland. It con- 
 tained some account of the writer's previous journey since 
 parting with him, and then proceeded as follows : — 
 
 " And now, why will you still upbraid me with my 
 melancholy, Mervyn ? — Do you think, after the lapse of 
 twenty-five years, battles, wounds, imprisonment, misfor- 
 times of every description, I can be still the same Hvely, 
 
 VOL. in. 11 
 
162 "VVAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 unbroken Guy Mannering, who climbed Skiddaw with 
 you, or shot grouse upon Crossfell ? That you, who have 
 remained in the bosom of domestic happiness, experience 
 little change, that your step is as light, and youi* fancy as 
 full of sunshine, is a blessed effect of health and temper- 
 ament, co-operating with content, and a smooth current 
 down the course of life. But my cai^eer has been one of 
 difficulties, and doubts, and errors. From my infancy I 
 ha^ e been the sport of accident, and though the wind has 
 often borne me into harbour, it has seldom been into that 
 which the pilot destined. Let me recall to you — but the 
 task must be brief — the odd and wayward fates of my 
 youth, and the misfortunes of my manhood. 
 
 " The former, you will say, had nothing very appalling. 
 All was not for the best; but all was tolerable. My 
 father, the eldest son of an ancient but reduced family, 
 left me with httle, save the name of the head of the 
 house, to the protection of his more fortunate brothers. 
 They were so fond of me that they almost quarrelled 
 about me. My uncle, the bishop, would have had me la 
 orders, and offered me a living — my uncle, the merchant, 
 would have put me into a counting-house, and proposed 
 to give me a share in the thriving concern of Mannering 
 and Marshall, in Lombard Street. So between these two 
 stools, or rather these two soft, easy, well-stuffed chairs 
 of divinity and commerce, my unfortunate person slipped 
 down, and pitched upon a dragoon saddle. Again, the 
 bishop wished me to marry the niece and heiress of the 
 Dean of Lincoln ; and my uncle, the alderman, proposed 
 to me the only daughter of old Sloethorn, the great wine- 
 merchant, rich enough to play at span-counter with moi- 
 dores, and make tlu-ead-papers of bank notes — and some- 
 how I shpped my neck out of both nooses, and married- 
 poor — ^poor Sophia Wellwood. 
 
GUY MANNEBING. 163 
 
 " You will saj, my military career in India, wlien I 
 followed my regiment there, should have given me some 
 satisfaction ; and so it assuredly has. You will remind 
 me also, that if I disappointed the hopes of my guardians^ 
 I did not incur their displeasure ; that the bishop, at his 
 death, bequeathed me his blessing, his manuscript ser- 
 mons, and a curious portfolio, containing the heads of 
 emhient divines of the church of England ; and that my 
 uncle, Sir Paul Mannering, left me sole heir and executor 
 to his large fortune. Yet this availeth me nothing: I 
 told you I had that upon my mind which I should carry 
 to my grave with me — a perpetual aloes in the draught 
 of existence. I will tell you the cause more in detail 
 than I had the heart to do while under your hospitable 
 roof You will often hear it mentioned, and perhaps with 
 different and unfounded circumstances. I will therefore 
 speak it out ; and then let the event itself, and the senti- 
 ments of melancholy with which it has impressed me, 
 never again be subject of discussion between us. 
 
 " Sophia, as you well know, followed me to India. 
 She was as innocent as gay ; but, unfortunately for us 
 both, as gay as innocent. My own manners were partly 
 formed by studies I had forsaken, and habits of seclusion, 
 not quite consistent with my situation as commandant of 
 a regiment in a country where universal hospitality is 
 ofiered and expected by every settler claiming the rank 
 of a gentleman. In a moment of peculiar pressure, (you 
 know how hard we were sometimes run to obtain white 
 faces to countenance our line-of-battle,) a young man, 
 named Brown, joined our regiment as a volunteer, — and 
 finding the military duty more to his fancy than com- 
 merce, in which he had been engaged, remained with us 
 as a cadet. Let me do my unhappy victim justice — 
 
164 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 he behaved with such gallantry on every occasion that 
 offered, that the first vacant commission was considered 
 as his due. I was absent for some weeks upon a distant 
 expedition ; when I returned, I found this young fellow 
 estabhshed quite as the friend of the house, and habitual 
 attendant of my wife and daughter. It was an arrange- 
 ment which displeased me in many particulars, though no 
 objection could be made to his manners or character. Yet 
 I might have been reconciled to his familiarity in my 
 family, but for the suggestions of another. If you read 
 over — what I never dare open — the play of Othello, you 
 will have some idea of what followed — I mean, of my 
 motives : my actions, thank God ! were less reprehensible. 
 There was another cadet ambitious of the vacant situa- 
 tion. He called my attention to what he led me to term 
 coquetry between my wife and this young man. Sophia 
 was virtuous, but proud of her virtue ; and, irritated by 
 my jealousy, she was so imprudent as to press and en- 
 courage an intimacy which she saw I disapproved and 
 regarded with suspicion. Between Brown and me there 
 existed a sort of internal dislike. He made an effort or 
 two to overcome my prejudice ; but, prepossessed as I 
 was, I placed them to a wrong motive. Feeling himself 
 repulsed, and with scorn, he desisted ; and as he was 
 without family and friends, he was naturally more watch- 
 ful of the deportment of one who had both. 
 
 " It is odd with what torture I write this letter. I feel 
 inclined, nevertheless, to protract the operai^ion, just as 
 if my doing so could put off the catastrophe which lias so 
 
 long embittered my life. But it must be told, and it 
 
 shall be told briefly. 
 
 " My wife, though no longer young, was still eminently 
 handsome, and — let me say thus far in my own justifica- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 165 
 
 taon — she was fond of being thought so — ^I am repeating 
 what I said before. — In a word, of her virtue I never 
 entertained a doubt ; but, pushed by the artful suggestions 
 of Archer, I thought she cared httle for my peace of 
 mind, and that the young fellow, Brown, paid his atten- 
 tions in my despite, and in defiance of me. He perhaps 
 considered me, on his part, as an oppressive aristocratic 
 man, \^ho made my rank in society, and in the army, the 
 means of galling those whom circumstances placed be- 
 neath me. And if he discovered my silly jealousy, he 
 probably considered the fretting me in that sore point of 
 my character, as one means of avenging the petty indig- 
 nities to which I had it in my power to subject him. Yet 
 an acute friend of mine gave a more harmless, or at least 
 a less offensive, construction to his attentions, which he 
 conceived to be meant for my daughter Julia, though 
 immediately addressed to propitiate the influence of her 
 mother. This could have been no very flattering or 
 pleasing enterprise on the part of an obscure and name- 
 less young man ; but I should not have been offended at 
 this folly, as I was at the higher degree of presumption I 
 suspected. Offended, however, I was, and in a mortal 
 degree. 
 
 " A very slight spark will kindle a flame where every 
 thing lies open to catch it. I have absolutely forgot the 
 proximate cause of quarrel, but it was some trifle which 
 occurred at the card-table, which occasioned high words 
 and a challenge. We met in the morning beyond the 
 walls and esplanade of the fortress which I then com- 
 manded, on the frontiers of the settlement. This was 
 arranged for Brown's safety, had he escaped. I almost 
 wish he had, though at my own expense ; but he fell by 
 the first fire. We strove to assist him ; but some of these 
 
166 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Looties, a species of native banditti who were always on 
 the watch for prey, poured in upon us. Archer and I 
 gained our horses with difficulty, and cut our way througli 
 them after a hard conflict, in the course of which he 
 received some desperate wounds. To complete the mis- 
 fortunes of this miserable day, my wife, who suspected 
 the design with which I left the fortress, had ordered her 
 palanquin to follow me, and was alarmed and almost made 
 prisoner by another troop of these plunderers. She was 
 quickly released by a party of our cavalry ; but I cannot 
 disguise from myself, that the incidents of this fatal morn- 
 ing gave a severe shock to health already delicate. The 
 confession of Ai'cher, who thought himself dying, that he 
 had invented some circumstances, and, for his purposes, 
 put the worst construction upon others, and the full 
 explanation and exchange of forgiveness with me which 
 this produced, could not check the progress of her dis- 
 order. She died within about eight months after this 
 incident, bequeathing me only the girl, of whom Mrs. 
 Mervyn is so good as to undertake the temporary charge. 
 Julia was also extremely ill ; so much so, that I was in- 
 duced to throw up my command and return to Europe, 
 where her native air, time, and the novelty of the scenes 
 around her, have contributed to dissipate her dejection, 
 and restore her health. 
 
 " Now that you know my story, you will no longer ask 
 me the reason of my melancholy, but permit me to brood 
 upon it as I may. There is, surely, in the above narra- 
 tive, enough to embitter, though not to poison, the chalice, 
 which the fortune and fame you so often mention had 
 prepared to regale my years of retirement. 
 
 " I could add circumstances which our old tutor would 
 have quoted as instances of day fatality, — you would 
 
GUY MANNERING. 167 
 
 laugh were I to mention such particulars, especially as 
 you know I put no faith in them. Yet, since I have 
 come to the very house from which I now write, I have 
 learned a singular coincidence, which, if I find it truly 
 established by tolerable evidence, will serve us hereafter 
 for subject of curious discussion. But I will spare you at 
 present, as I expect a person to speak about a purchase 
 of property now open in this part of the country. It is a 
 place to which I have a foolish partiality, and I hope my 
 purchasing may be convenient to those who are parting 
 with it, as there is a plan for buying it under the value. 
 My respectful compliments to Mrs. Mervyn, and I will 
 trust you, though you boast to be so lively a young 
 gentleman, to kiss Julia for me. — Adieu, dear Mervyn. — 
 Thine ever, . " Gut Mannering." 
 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan now entered the room. The well- 
 known character of Colonel Mannering at once disposed 
 this gentleman, who was a man of intelligence and probity, 
 to be open and confidential. He explained the advantages 
 and disadvantages of the property. " It was settled," he 
 said, " the greater part of it at least, upon heirs-male, and 
 the purchaser would have the privilege of retaining in his 
 hands a large proportion of the price, in case of the re- 
 appearance, within a certain Hmited term, of the cliild 
 who had disappeared." 
 
 "■' To what purpose, then, force forward a sale ? " said 
 Mannering. 
 
 Mac-Morlan smiled. " Ostensibly," he answered, "to 
 substitute the interest of money, instead of the ill-paid 
 and precarious rents of an unimproved estate ; but chiefly. 
 It was believed, to suit the wishes and views of a certain 
 intended purchaser, who had become a principal creditor. 
 
168 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 and forced himself into the management of the affairs by 
 means best known to himself, and who, it was thought, 
 would find it verj convenient to purchase the estate 
 without paying down the price." 
 
 Mannering consulted with Mr. Mac-Morlan upon the 
 steps for thwarting this unprincipled attempt. They theo 
 conversed long on the singular disappeai'ance of Harry 
 Bertram upon his fifth birth-day, verifying thus the 
 random prediction of Mannering, of which, however, it 
 will readily be supposed he made no boast. Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan was not himself in office when that incident 
 took place; but he was well acquainted with all the 
 circumstances, and promised that our hero should have 
 them detailed by the sheriff-depute himself, if, as he 
 proposed, he should become a settler in that part of 
 Scotland. With this assurance they parted, well satis- 
 fied with each other, and with the evening's conference. 
 
 On the Sunday following. Colonel Mannering attended 
 the parish church with great decorum. None of the 
 Ellangowan family were present ; and it was understood 
 that the old Laird was rather worse than better. Jock 
 Jabos, once more dispatched for him, returned once more 
 without his errand; but, on the following day, Miss 
 Bertram hoped he might be removed. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 169 
 
 CHAPTER Xm. 
 
 They told me, by the sentence of the law, 
 They had commission to seize all thy fortune. — 
 Here stood a ruffian with a horrid face, 
 Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate, 
 Tumbled into a heap for public sale ; — 
 There was another, making Tillanous jests, 
 At thy undoing; he had ta'en possession 
 Of all thy ancient most domestic ornaments. 
 
 Otwat. 
 
 Early next morning, Mannering mounted his horse, 
 and accompanied by his servant, took the road to Ellan- 
 gowan. He had no need to inquire the way. A sale 
 in the country is a place of public resort and amusement, 
 and people of various descriptions streamed to it from all 
 quarters. 
 
 After a pleasant ride of about an hour, the old towers 
 of the ruin presented themselves in the landscape. The 
 thoughts, with what different feelings he had lost sight of 
 them so many years before, thronged upon the mind of 
 the traveller. The landscape was the same; but how 
 changed the feelings, hopes, and views, of the spectator I 
 Then, Ufe and love were new, and all the prospect waa 
 gilded by their rays. And now, disappointed in affection, 
 sated with fame, and what the world calls success, his 
 mind goaded by 'bitter and repentant recollection, his best 
 hope was to find a retirement in which he might nurso 
 the melancholy that was to accompany him to his grave. 
 
170 WA^EKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Yet why should an individual mourn over the instability 
 of his hopes, and the vanity of his prospects? The 
 ancient chiefs, who erected these enormous and massive 
 towers to be the fortress of their race, and the seat of 
 their power, — could they have dreamed the day was to 
 come, when the last of their descendants should be ex- 
 pelled, a ruined wanderer, from his possessions! But 
 Nature's bounties are unaltered. The sun will shine" as 
 fair on these ruins, whether the property of a stranger, or 
 of a sordid and obscure trickster of the abused law, as 
 when the banners of the founder fii*st waved upon their 
 battlements." 
 
 These reflections brought Mannering to the door of the 
 house, which was that day open to all. He entered 
 among others, who traversed the apartments — some to 
 select articles for purchase, others to gratify theii' curi- 
 osity. There is somethmg melancholy in such a scene, 
 even under the most favourable cii'cumstances. The con- 
 fused state of the furniture, displaced for the convenience 
 of being easily viewed and carried off by the purchasers, 
 is disagreeable to the eye. Those articles which, prop- 
 erly and decently arranged, look creditable and handsome, 
 have then a paltry and wretched appearance ; and the 
 apartments, stripped of all that render them commodious 
 and comfortable, have an aspect of ruin and dilapidation. 
 It is disgusting, also, to see the scenes of domestic society 
 and seclusion thrown open to the gaze of the curious and 
 the vulgar ; to hear their coarse speculations and brutal 
 jests upon the fashions and furniture to which they are 
 unaccustomed, — a froHcsome humour, much cherished by 
 the whisky which in Scotland is always put in circulation 
 on such occasions. All these are ordinary effects of such 
 a scene as EUangowan now presented; but the moral 
 
GUY MANNEKINa. 171 
 
 feeling, that, in this case, thej indicated the total ruin ot 
 an ancient and honourable family, gave them treble weight 
 and poignancy. 
 
 It was some time before Colonel Mannering could find 
 any one disposed to answer his reitei-ated questions con- 
 cerning Ellangowan himself. At length, an old maid- 
 Bervant, who held her apron to her eyes as she spoke, 
 told him, "the Laird was something better, and they 
 hoped he would be able to leave the house thai day. 
 Miss Lucy expected the chaise every moment, and, as 
 the day was fine for the time o' year, they had carried 
 him in his easy chair up to the green before the auld 
 castle, to be out of the way of this unco spectacle." 
 Thither Colonel Mannering went in quest of him, and 
 soon came in sight of the little group, which consisted of 
 four persons. The ascent was steep, so that he had time 
 to reconnoitre them as he advanced, and to consider in 
 what mode he should make his address. 
 
 Mr. Bertram, paralytic, and almost incapable of 
 moving, occupied his easy chair, attired m his night- 
 cap, and a loose camlet coat, his feet wrapped in blan- 
 kets. Behind him, with his hands crossed on the cane 
 upon which he rested, stood Dominie Sampson, whom 
 Mannering recognised at once. Time had made no 
 change upon him, unless that his black coat seemed more 
 brown, and his gaunt cheeks more lank, than when Dilan- 
 nering last saw him. On one side of the old man was a 
 sylph hke form — a young woman of about seventeen, 
 whom the Colonel accounted to be his daughter. She 
 was looking, from time to time, anxiously towards the 
 avenue, as if expecting a post-chaise ; and between whiles 
 busied herself in adjusting the blankets, so as to protect 
 her father from the cold, and in answering inquiries, 
 
172 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 which he seemed to make with a captious and querulous 
 manner. She did not trust herself to look towards tlio 
 Place, although the hum of the assembled crowd must 
 have drawn her attention in that direction. The fourth 
 person of the group was a handsome and genteel joung 
 man, who seemed to share Miss Bertram's anxiety, and 
 her solicitude to soothe and accommodate her parent. 
 
 This young man was the first who observed Colonel 
 Mannering, and immediately stepped forward to meet 
 him, as if politely to prevent his drawing nearer to the 
 distressed group. Mannering instantly paused, and ex- 
 plained. " He was," he said, " a stranger, to whom Mr. 
 Bertram had formerly sho^\Ti kindness and hospitahty ; 
 he would not have intruded himself upon him at a period 
 of distress, did it not seem to be in some degree a moment 
 also of desertion ; he wished merely to offer such services 
 as might be in his power to Mr. Bertram and the young 
 lady." 
 
 He then paused at a little distance from the chair. 
 His old acquaintance gazed at him with lack-lustre eye, 
 that intimated no tokens of recognition — the Dominie 
 seemed too deeply sunk in distress even to observe his 
 presence. The young man spoke aside with IVIiss Ber- 
 tram, who advanced timidly, and thanked Colonel Man- 
 nering for his goodness; "but," she said, the tejirs 
 gushing fast into her eyes ; " her father, she feared, was 
 n()t so much himself as to be able to remember him." 
 
 She then retreated towards the chair, accompanied by 
 the Colonel. — " Father," she said, " this is Mr. Manner- 
 ing, an old friend, come to inquire after you." 
 
 " He's very heartily welcome," said the old man, rais- 
 ing himself in his chair, and attempting a gesture of 
 courtesy, wliile a gleam of hospitable satisfaction seemed 
 
GUY MANNERING. 173 
 
 to pass o\ er his faded features. — " But, Lucy, my dear, 
 let us go down to the house ; you should not keep the 
 gentleman here in the cold, — Dominie, take the key of 
 the wine cooler. Mr. a — a — the gentleman wiE. surely 
 take something after his ride." 
 
 Mannering was unspeakably affected by the contrast 
 w liich his recollection made between this reception and 
 that with which he had been greeted by the same indi- 
 Tidual when they last met. He could not restraui his 
 tears, and his evident emotion at once attained him the 
 confidence of the friendless young lady. 
 
 " Alas ! " she said, " this is distressing even to a stran- 
 ger ; but it may be better for my poor father to be in this 
 way, than if he knew and could feel ail." 
 
 A servant in livery now came up the path, and spoke 
 in an under tone to the young gentleman : — " Mr. Charles, 
 my lady's wanting you yonder sadly, to bid for her for 
 the black ebony cabinet ; and Lady Jean Devorgoil is 
 wi' her an' a' — ^ye maun come away directly." 
 
 " Tell them you could not find me, Tom ; — or stay, — 
 say I am looking at the horses." 
 
 " No, no, no," said Lucy Bertram, earnestly ; — " if you 
 would not add to the misery of this miserable moment, 
 go to the company directly. This gentleman, I am sure, 
 will see us to the carriage." 
 
 " Unquestionably, madam," said Mannering ; " your 
 young friend may rely on my attention." 
 
 " Farewell, then," said young Hazlewood, and whis- 
 pered a word in her ear — then ran down the steep hastily, 
 as if not trusting his resolution at a slower pace. 
 
 "Where's Charles Hazlewood running?" said the in- 
 valid, who apparently was accustomed to his presence 
 and attentions ; " Where's Charles Hazlewood running ? 
 •—what takes him away now ? " 
 
174 WAVEitl^EY NOVELy. 
 
 " He'll return in a little while," said Lucy, gently. 
 
 The sound of voices was now heard from the ruius. 
 (The reader may remember there was a communication 
 between* the castle and the beach, up which the speakers 
 had ascended.) 
 
 " Yes, there's plenty of shells and sea- ware for manure, 
 sui you observe — and if one inclined to build a new house, 
 which might indeed be necessary, there's a great deal 
 of good hewn stone about this old dungeon for the devil 
 here " — 
 
 " Good God ! " said Miss Bertram hastily to Sampson, 
 *' 'tis that wretch Glossin's voice ! — if my father sees him, 
 it will kill him outright ! " 
 
 Sampson wheeled perpendicularly round, and moved 
 with long strides to confront the attorney, as he issued 
 from beneath the portal arch of the ruin. " Avoid ye ! " 
 he said — " Avoid ye ! wouldst thou kill and take posses- 
 sion?" 
 
 " Come, come. Master Dominie Sampson," answered 
 Glossin, insolently, " if ye cannot preach in the pulpit, 
 we'll have no preaching here. We go by the law, my 
 good friend ; we leave the gospel to you." 
 
 The very mention of this man's name had been of late 
 a subject of the most violent irritation to the unfortunate 
 patient. The sound of his voice now produced an instan- 
 taneous effect. Mr. Bertram started up without assist- 
 ance, and turned round towai'ds him ; the ghasthness of 
 liis features forming a strange contrast with the violence 
 of his exclamations. — " Out of my sight, ye viper ! ye 
 frozen viper, that I warmed till ye stung me ! — art thou 
 not af]-aid that the walls of my father's dwelling should 
 fall and crush thee limb and bone ? — are ye not afraid the 
 very lintels of the door of Ellangowan castle should 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 175 
 
 break open and swallow jou up ? — Were ye not friend- 
 less, — houseless, — penniless, — when I took ye by the 
 hand — and are ye not expelling me — me, and that inno- 
 cent girl — friendless, houseless, and penniless, from the 
 house that has sheltered us and ours for a thousand 
 } ears ? " 
 
 Had Glossin been alone, he would probably have slunk 
 fjlF; but the consciousness that a stranger was present, 
 besides the person who came with him, (a sort of land- 
 surveyor,) determined him to resort to impudence. The 
 task, however, was almost too hard, even for his effront- 
 eiy. — " Sii' — Sir — Mr. Bertram — Sir, you should not 
 blame me, but your own imprudence, sir " — 
 
 The indignation of Mannering was mounting very 
 high. " Sir," he said to Glossin, " without entering into 
 the merits of tins controversy, I must inform you, that 
 you have chosen a very improper place, time, and pres- 
 ence for it. And you wiU oblige me by withdrawing 
 without more words." 
 
 Glossin, being a tall, strong, muscular man, was not 
 unwdlling rather to turn upon a stranger whom he hoped 
 to bully, than maintain his wretched cause against his in- 
 jured patron : — " I do not know who you are, sh'," he 
 said, " and I shall permit no man to use such d — d fiee- 
 dom with me." 
 
 Mannering was naturally hot-tempered — his eyes 
 flashed a dark light — he compressed his nether lip so 
 closely that the blood sprung, and approaching Glossin — 
 " Look you, sir," he said, " that you do not know me, ir 
 of httle consequence. / know you ; and, if you do not 
 instantly descend that bank, without utteriag a single syl- 
 lable, by the Heaven that is above us, you shall make 
 but one step from the top to the bottom ! " 
 
176 ■WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 The commanding tone of riglitfiil anger silenced at 
 once the ferocity of the bullj. He hesitated, turned on 
 his heel, and, muttering something between his teeth 
 about unwillingness to alarm the lady, relieved them of 
 his hateful company. 
 
 ]\Irs. Mac-Candhsh's postihon, who had come up in 
 time to hear what passed, said aloud, " If he had stuck 
 by the way, I would have lent him a heezie, the duty 
 scoundrel, as willingly as ever I pitched a boddle." 
 
 He then stepped forward to announce that his horses 
 were in readiness for the invalid and his daughter. 
 
 But they were no longer necessary. The debilitated 
 frame of Mr. Bertram was exhausted by this last effort 
 of indignant anger, and when he sunk again upon his 
 chair, he expired almost without a struggle or groan. So 
 little alteration did the extinction of the vital spark make 
 upon his external appearance, that the screams of his 
 daughter, when she saw his eye fix and felt his pulse stop, 
 first announced his death to the spectators. 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The bell strikes one. — ^We take no note of time 
 But from its loss. To give it then a tongue 
 Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, 
 
 I feel the solemn sound. 
 
 YouNa. 
 
 The moral which the poet has rather quaintly deduced 
 from the necessary mode of measuring time, may be well 
 applied to our feelings respecting that portion of it which 
 constitutes human life. We observe the aged, the infirm, 
 and those engaged in occupations of immediate hazard, 
 trembhng as it were upon the very brink of non-exist- 
 ence, but we derive no lesson from the precariousness of 
 their tenure until it has altogether failed. Then, for a 
 moment at least, 
 
 Our hopes and fears 
 Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge 
 Look down — On what ? — a fathomless abyss, 
 A dark eternity, — how surely ours ! 
 
 The crowd of assembled gazers and idlers at Ellan- 
 gowan had followed the views of amusement, or what 
 they called business, which brought them there, with Httle 
 regard to the feelings of those who were suffering upon 
 that occasion. Few, indeed, knew any thing of the 
 family. The father, betwixt seclusion,- misfortune, and 
 imbecility, had drifted, as it were, for many years, out of 
 the notice of liis contemporaries — the daughter had never 
 
 VOL. III. 12 
 
178 WAYEELET NOVELS. 
 
 been known to them. But when the general murmur an^ 
 nounced tliat the unfortunate JMr. Bertram had broken 
 his heart in the effort to leave the mansion of his fore- 
 fathers, there poured forth a torrent of sympathy, like the 
 waters from the rock when stricken by the wand of the 
 prophet. The ancient descent and unblemished integrity 
 of the family were respectfully remembered ; — abo";e all 
 the sacred veneration due to misfortune, which in Scot- 
 land seldom demands its tribute in vain, then claimed and 
 received it. 
 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan hastily announced that he would sus- 
 pend all farther proceedings in the sale of the estate and 
 other property, and relinquish the possession of the 
 premises to the young lady, until she could consult with 
 her friends, and provide for the burial of her father. 
 
 Glossin had cowered for a few minutes under the 
 general expression of sympathy, till, hardened by observ- 
 ing that no appearance of popular indignation was 
 directed his way, he had the audacity to require that the 
 sale should proceed. 
 
 " I will take it upon my own authority to adjourn it," 
 said the sheriff-substitute, " and will be responsible for 
 the consequences. I will also give due notice when it is 
 again to go forward. It is for the benefit of all concerned 
 that the lands should bring the highest price the state of 
 the market will admit, and this is surely no time to ex- 
 pect it — I ^ill take the responsibility upon myself." 
 
 Glossin left the room, and the house too, with secre(3y 
 and dispatch ; and it was probably well for him that he 
 did so, since our friend Jock Jabos was already harangu- 
 ing a immerous tribe of bare-legged boys on the propriety 
 of pelting him off the estate. 
 
 Some of the rooms were hastily put in order for the 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 179 
 
 reception of the young ladj, and of her father's dead 
 body. Mannering now found his farther interference 
 would be unnecessary, and might be misconstrued. He 
 observed, too, that several families connected with that 
 of Ellangowan, and who indeed derived their principal 
 claim of gentihty from the aUiance, were now disposed 
 to pay to their trees of genealogy a tribute, which the 
 adversity of their supposed relatives had been inadequate 
 to call forth ; and that the honour of superintending the 
 funeral rites of the dead Godfrey Bertram (as in the 
 memorable case of Homer's birth-place) was hkely to be 
 debated by seven gentlemen of rank and fortune, none 
 of whom had offered him an asylum while living. He 
 therefore resolved, as his presence was altogether useless, 
 to make a short tour of a fortnight, at the end of which 
 period the adjourned sale of the estate of Ellangowan 
 was to proceed. 
 
 But before he departed, he solicited an interview with 
 the Dominie. The poor man appeared, on being in- 
 formed a gentleman wanted to speak to him, with some 
 expression of surprise in his gaunt features, to which 
 "^ecent sorrow had given an expression yet more grisly. 
 He made two or three profound reverences to Mannering, 
 and then, standing erect, patiently waited an explanation 
 of his commands. 
 
 " You are probably at a loss to guess, Mr. Sampson,'* 
 said Mannering, " what a stranger may have to say to 
 you ? " 
 
 " Unless it were to request that I would undertake to 
 train up some youth in polite letters, and humane learn- 
 ing — But I cannot — I cannot — I have yet a task to 
 perform." 
 
 " No, Mr. Sampson, my wishes are not so ambitious. 
 
180 "WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 I have no son, and my only daughter, I presume, joa 
 would not consider as a fit pupil." 
 
 " Of a surety, no," replied the simple-minded Samp- 
 son. " Natheless, it was I who did educate Miss Lucy 
 in all useful learning, — albeit it was the housekeeper who 
 did teach her those unprofitable exercises of hemming 
 and shaping." 
 
 " Well, sir," rephed Mannering, " it is of Miss Lucy I 
 meant to speak — you have, I presume, no recollection of 
 me?" 
 
 Sampson, always sufficiently absent in mind, neither 
 •••emembered the astrologer of past years, nor even the 
 stranger who had taken his patron's part against Glossin, 
 so much had his friend's sudden death embroiled his ideas. 
 
 " Well, that does not signify," pursued the Colonel ; 
 " I am an old acquaintance of the late Mr. Bertram, able 
 and willing to assist his daughter in her present circum- 
 stances. Besides, I have thoughts of making this pur- 
 chase, and I should wish things kept in order about the 
 place : will you have the goodness to apply this small 
 sum in the usual family expenses ? " — He put into the 
 Dominie's hand a pui'se containing some gold. 
 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " exclaimed Dominie Sampson. " But 
 if your honour would tarry " 
 
 " Impossible, sir — impossible," said Mannering, making 
 his escape from him. 
 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " again exclaimed Sampson, follo-Aiug 
 to the head of the stairs, still holding out the purse. 
 " But as toucliing this coined money " 
 
 Mannering escaped down stairs as fast as possible. 
 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " exclaimed Dominie Sampson, yet 
 the third time, now standing at the front door. " But as 
 touching this specie " 
 
GUT MANNERING. 181 
 
 But Mannering was now on horseback, and out of 
 hearing. The Dominie, who had never, either in his 
 own right, or as trustee for another, been possessed of a 
 quarter part of this sum, though it was not above twenty- 
 guineas, " took counsel," as he expressed himself, " how 
 he should demean himself with respect unto the fine 
 gold " thus left in his charge. Fortunately he found a 
 disinterested adviser in Mac-Morlan, who pointed out the 
 most proper means of disposing of it for contributing to 
 Miss Bertram's convenience, being no doubt the purpose 
 to which it was destined by the bestower. 
 
 Many of the neighbouring gentry were now sincerely 
 eager in pressing offers of hospitality and kindness upon 
 Miss Bertram. But she felt a natural reluctance to enter 
 any family, for the first time, as an object rather of 
 benevolence than hospitality, and determined to wait the 
 opinion and advice of her father's nearest female relation, 
 Mrs. Margaret Bertram of Singleside, an old unmarried 
 lady, to whom she wrote an account of her present 
 distressful situation. 
 
 The funeral of the late Mr. Bertram was performed 
 with decent privacy, and the unfortunate young ladj was 
 now to consider herself as but the temporary tenant of 
 the house in which she had been born, and where her 
 patience and soothing attentions had so long " rocked the 
 cradle of dechning age." Her communication with Mr. 
 JNTac-Morlan encouraged her to hope that she would not 
 be suddenly or unkindly deprived of this asylum — But 
 fortune had ordered otherwise. 
 
 For two days before the appointed day for the sale of 
 the lands and estate of EUangowan, Mac-Morlan daily 
 expected the appearance of Colonel Mannering, or at 
 least a letter containing powers to act for him. But none 
 
182 WAVERLET NOYELS. 
 
 such aiTived. !RIr. Mac-Morlan waked early In the 
 morning, — walked over to the Post-office, — there were no 
 letters for him. He endeavoured to persuade himself 
 that he should see Colonel Mannering to breakfast, and 
 ordered his wife to place her best china, and prepare 
 herself accordingly. But the preparations were in vain. 
 " Could I have foreseen this," he said, " I would have 
 travelled Scotland over, but I would have found some 
 one to bid against Glossin." — Alas ! such reflections were 
 all too late. The appointed horn- arrived ; and the parties 
 met in the Mason's Lodge at Kippletrmgan, being the 
 place fixed for the adjourned sale. Mac-Morlan spent as 
 much time in preliminaries as decency would permit, and 
 read over the articles of sale as slowly as if he had been 
 reading his own death-warrant. He turned his eye every 
 time the door of the room opened, with hopes wliich grew 
 fainter and fainter. He hstened to every noise in the 
 street of the village, and endeavoured to distinguish in it 
 the sound of hoofs or wheels. It was all in vain. A 
 bright idea then occurred, that Colonel Mannering might 
 have employed some other person in the transaction : he 
 would not have wasted a moment's thought upon the 
 want of confidence in himself which such a manoeuvre 
 would have evinced. But this hope also was groundless. 
 After a solemn pause, ]VIi\ Glossin ofiered the upset price 
 for the lands and barony of Ellangowan. No reply was 
 made, and no competitor appeared ; so, after a lapse of 
 the usual interval by the running of a sand-glass, upon 
 the intended purchaser entering the projDer sureties, Mr. 
 Mac-Morlan was obHged, in technical terms, to " find and 
 declare the sale lawfully completed, and to prefer the said 
 Gilbert Glossin as the purchaser of the said lands and 
 estate. The honest writer refused to pai'take of a 
 
GUT MANNERING. 183 
 
 splendid entertainment with which Gilbert Glossin, Es- 
 quire, now of Ellangowan, treated the rest of the com- 
 pany, and retui'ned home in huge bitterness of spirit, 
 which he vented in complaints against the fickleness and 
 caprice of these Indian nabobs, who never knew what they 
 would be at for ten days together. Fortune generously 
 determined to take the blame upon herself, and cut off 
 even this vent of Mac-Morlan's resentment. 
 
 An express arrived about six o'clock at night, " very 
 particularly drunk," the maid-servant said, with a packet 
 from Colonel Mannering, dated four days back, at a town 
 about a hundi-ed miles' distance from Kippletringan, con- 
 taining full powers to ]Mr. Mac-Morlan, or any one whom 
 he might employ, to make the intended purchase, and 
 stating, that some family business of consequence called 
 the Colonel himself to Westmoreland, where a letter 
 would find him, addressed to the cai*e of Ai'thur Mervyn, 
 Esq. of Mervyn Hall. 
 
 Mac-Morlan, in the transports of his ^vrath, flung the 
 power of attorney at the head of the innocent maid- 
 servant, and was only forcibly withheld from horse- 
 whipping the rascally messenger, by whose sloth and 
 drunkenness the disappointment had taken place. 
 
184 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 My gold is gone, my money is spent, 
 
 My laud now take it unto thee. 
 Give me thy gold, good John o' the Scales, 
 
 And thine for aye my land shall be. 
 
 Then John he did him to record draw, 
 And John he caste him a god's-pennie ; 
 
 But for every pounde that John agreed, 
 The land, I wis, was well worth three. 
 
 Heir of Lixne. 
 
 The Galwegian John o' the Scales was a more clever 
 fellow than his prototype. He contrived to make himself 
 heir of Linne without the disagreeable ceremony of 
 " telling down the good red gold." Miss Bertram no 
 sooner heard this painful, and of late unexpected intelli- 
 gence, than she proceeded in the preparations she had 
 already made for leaving the mansion-house immediately. 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan assisted her in these arrangements, and 
 pressed upon her so kindly the hospitaUty and protection 
 of his roof, until she should receive an answer from her 
 cousin, or be enabled to adopt some settled plan of life, 
 that she felt there would be unkindness in refusing an 
 invitation urged with such earnestness. Mrs. Mac-Morlan 
 was a ladylike person, and well qualified by birth and 
 manners to receive the visit, and to make her house 
 agreeable to Miss Bertram. A home, thei-efore, and an 
 hospitable reception, were secured to her, and she went 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 185 
 
 on, with better heart, to pay the wages and receive th'j 
 adieus of the few domestics of her father's family. 
 
 Where there are estimable qualities on either side, this 
 task is always affecting — the present circumstances ren- 
 dered it doubly so. All received their due, and even a 
 trifle more, and with thanks and good wishes, to which 
 some added teai'S, took farewell of their young mistress. 
 There remained in the parlour only Mr. Mac-Morlan, 
 who came to attend his guest to his house. Dominie 
 Sampson, and Miss Bertram. " And now," said the poor 
 girl, " I must bid farewell to one of my oldest and kindest 
 friends — God bless you, Mr. Sampson ! and requite to 
 you all the kindness of your instructions to your poor 
 pupil, and your friendship to him that is gone ! I hope I 
 shall often hear from you." She shd into his hand a 
 paper containing some pieces of gold, and rose, as if to 
 leave the room. 
 
 Dominie Sampson also rose ; but it was to stand aghast 
 with utter astonishment. The idea of parting from Miss 
 Lucy, go where she might, had never once occurred to 
 the simpHcity of his understanding. He laid the money 
 on the table. "It is certainly inadequate," said Mac- 
 Morlan, mistaking his meaning, " but the circum- 
 stances " 
 
 Mr. Sampson waved his hand impatiently — " It is not 
 the lucre — it is not the lucre — but that I, that have ate 
 of her father's loaf, and drank of his cup, for twenty- 
 years and more — to think that I am going to leave her— 
 and to leave her in distress and dolour ! No, Miss Lucy, 
 you need never think it ! You would not consent to put 
 forth your father's poor dog, and would you use me waur 
 than a messan ? No, Miss Lucy Bertram — while I live, 
 I will not separate from you. I'll be no burden — I have 
 
186 WAVEHLEY NOVELS. 
 
 thought lio\v to prevent that. But, as Ruth said unto 
 !Naomi, ' Entreat me not to leave thee, nor to depart from 
 thee ; for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou 
 dwelie.^t I will dwell ; thy people shall be my people, and 
 thy God shall be my God. AYhere thou diest will I die, 
 and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and 
 D'ore also, if aught but death do part thee and me.' " 
 
 During this speech, the longest ever Dominie Sampson 
 was known to utter, the affectionate creature's eyes 
 streamed with tears, and neither Lucy nor Mac-Morlan 
 could refrain from sympathiziiig with this unexpected 
 burst of feeling and attachment. " 1NL-. Sampson," said 
 Mac-Morlan, after having had recourse to his snuff-box 
 and handkerchief alternately, " my house is large enough, 
 and if you will accept of a bed there, while Miss Bertram 
 honours us with her residence, I shall think myself very 
 happy, and my roof much favoured by receiving a man 
 of your worth and fidelity." And then, with a delicacy 
 which was meant to remove any objection on Miss Ber- 
 tram's pai't to bringing with her this unexpected satelhte, 
 he added, " My business requires my frequently having 
 occasion for a better accountant than any of my present 
 clerks, and I should be glad to have recourse to your 
 assistance in that way now and then." 
 
 " Of a surety, of a sm-ety," said Sampson eagerly ; " I 
 understand book-keeping by double entry and the Itahan 
 method." 
 
 Our postilion had thrust himself into the room to an- 
 nounce his chaise and horses; he tarried, unobserved, 
 during this extraordinary scene, and assured 2\1ts. Mac- 
 Candlish it was the most moving thing he ever saw ; " the 
 death of the grey mare, puir hizzie, was naetliing till't." 
 This trifling circumstance afterwards had consequences 
 of greater moment to the Dominie. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 1S7 
 
 The visitors were hospitably welcomed by Mrs. Mac- 
 Morlan, to whom, as well as to others, her husband inti- 
 mated that he had engaged Dominie Sampson's assistance 
 to disentangle some perplexed accounts ; during which 
 occupation he would, for convenience sake, reside with 
 the family. JSIr. Mac-Morhm's knowledge of the world 
 induced him to put this colour upon the matter, aware, 
 that however honourable the fidelity of the Dominie's 
 attachment might Le, both to his own heart and to the 
 family of Ellangowan, his exterior ill qiialitied him to be 
 a " squire of dames," and rendered him upon the whole, 
 rather a ridiculous appendage to a beautiful young woman 
 of seventeen. 
 
 Domuiie Sampson achieved with great zeal such tasks 
 as Mr. Mac-Morlan chose to intrust him with ; but it was 
 speedily observed that at a certain hour after breakfast 
 he regularly disappeared, and returned again about dinner 
 time. The evening he occupied in the labour of the office. 
 On Saturday, he appeared before Mr. Mac-Morlan with 
 a look of great triumph, and laid on the table two pieces 
 of gold. 
 
 " What is this for. Dominie ? " said Mac-Morlan. 
 
 " First to indemnify you of your charges in my behalf, 
 worthy sir — and the balance for the use of Miss Lucy 
 Bertram." 
 
 " But, Mr. Sampson, your labour in the office much 
 more than recompenses me — I am your debtor, my good 
 friend." 
 
 " Then be it all," said the Dominie, waving his hand, 
 " for Miss Lucy Bertram's behoof." 
 
 " Well, but. Dominie, this money " 
 
 " It is honestly come by, Mr. Mac-Morlan ; it is the 
 bountiful reward of a young gentleman, to whom I am 
 
188 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 teaching the tongues ; reading with him three hours 
 daily." 
 
 A few more questions extracted from the Dominie, 
 that this Hberal pupil was young Hazlewood, and that he 
 met his preceptor daily at the house of INIrs. Mac-Can- 
 dUsh, whose proclamation of Sampson's disinterested 
 attachment to the young lady had procured him this inde- 
 fatigable and bounteous scholar. 
 
 Mac-Morlan was much struck with what he heard. 
 Dominie Sampson was doubtless a very good scholar, and 
 an excellent man, and the classics were unquestionably 
 very well worth reading ; yet that a young man of twenty 
 should ride seven miles and back again each day in the 
 week, to hold this sort of tete-d-tete of three hours, was 
 a zeal for hterature to which he was not prepared to give 
 entire credit. Little art was necessary to sift the Domi- 
 nie, for the honest man's head never admitted any but 
 the most direct and simple ideas. " Does IMiss Bertram 
 know how your time is engaged, my good friend ? " 
 
 " Surely not as yet — IVIr. Charles recommended" it 
 should be concealed from her, lest she should scruple to 
 accept of the small assistance arising from it ; but," he 
 added, " it would not be possible to conceal it long, since 
 ]VIr. Charles proposed taking his lessons occasionally in 
 this house." 
 
 " O, he does ! " said Mac-Morlan : " Yes, yes, I can 
 imderstand that better. — And pray, Mr. Sampson, are 
 these three hours entirely spent in construing and trans- 
 latmg ? " 
 
 " Doubtless, no — we have also colloquial intercourse to 
 sweeten study — neque semper arcum tendit Apollo" 
 
 The querist proceeded to ehcit from this Galloway 
 Phoebus what their discourse chiefly turned upon. 
 
GCY MANNERING. 189 
 
 ** Upon our past meetings at Ellangowan — and truly, 
 1 think very often we discourse concerning Miss Lucy — 
 for Mr. Charles Hazlewood, in that particular, resembleth 
 me, JVIr. Mac-Morlan. When I begin to speak of her I 
 never know when to stop — and, as I say (jocularly), she 
 cheats us out of half our lessons." 
 
 " ho ! " thought Mac-Morlan ; " sits the wind in that 
 quarter ? I've heard something like this before." 
 
 He then began to consider what conduct was safest for 
 his protegee, and even for himself, for the senior Mr. 
 Hazlewood was powerful, wealthy, ambitious, and vindic- 
 tive, and looked for both fortune and title in any connex- 
 ion which his son might form. At length, having the 
 highest opinion of his guest's good sense and penetration, 
 he determined to take an opportunity, when they should 
 happen to be alone, to communicate the matter to her as 
 a simple piece of intelligence. He did so in as natural a 
 manner as he could : — " I wish you joy of your friend 
 Mr. Sampson's good fortune. Miss Bertram ; he has got 
 a pupil who pays him two guineas for twelve lessons of 
 Greek and Latin." 
 
 " Indeed ! — I am equally happy and surprised. Who 
 can be so hberal ? — is Colonel Mannering returned ? " 
 
 " No, no, not Colonel Mannering ; but what do you 
 think of your acquaintance, Mr. Charles Hazlewood? 
 He talks of taking his lessons here ; I wish we may have 
 accommodation for him." 
 
 Lucy blushed deeply. " For Heaven's sake, no, Mr. 
 Mac-Morlan — do not let that be ; — Charles Hazlewood 
 has had enough of mischief about that already." 
 
 " About the classics, my dear young lady ! " wilfully 
 seeming to misunderstand her ; — " most young gentlemen 
 have so at one period or another, sure enough ; but hia 
 present studies are voluntary." 
 
190 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Miss Bertram let the conversation drop, and her host 
 made no effort to renew it, as she seemed to pause upon 
 the intelligence, in order to form some internal resolution. 
 
 The next day Miss Bertram took an opportunity of 
 conversing with ]Mr. Sampson. Expressing in the kindest 
 manner her grateful thanks for his disinterested attach- 
 ment, and her joy that he had got such a provision, she 
 hinted to him that his present mode of superintending 
 Cliarles Hazle wood's studies must be so inconvenient to 
 his pupil, that, while that engagement lasted, he had better 
 consent to a temporary separation, and reside either with 
 his scholar, or as near him as might be. Sampson re- 
 fused, as indeed she had expected, to Hsten for a moment 
 to this proposition — he would not quit her to be made 
 preceptor to the Prince of Wales. " But I see," he added, 
 " you are too proud to share my pittance ; and peradven- 
 ture I grow wearisome unto you." 
 
 " No, indeed — you were my father's ancient, almost 
 his only friend ; — I am not proud — God knows, I have 
 no reason to be so. You shall do what you judge best 
 in other matters ; but oblige me by teUing ]Mr. Charles 
 Hazlewood, that you had some conversation with me con- 
 cerning his studies, and that I was of opinion that his 
 carrying them on in this house was altogether impracti- 
 cable, and not to be thought of." 
 
 Dominie Sampson left her presence altogether crest* 
 fallen, and, as he shut the door, could not help muttering 
 the " varium et mutabile " of Virgil. Next day he ap- 
 peared with a very rueful visage, and tendered Miss 
 Bertram a letter. " ^Mr. Hazlewood," he said, " was to 
 discontinue his lessons, though he had generously made 
 up the pecuniary loss. But how will he make up the 
 loss to himself of the knowledge he might have acquired 
 
GUT MAOTfERING. 191 
 
 under my instruction ? Even in that one article of writ- 
 ing, he was an hour before he could write that brief note, 
 and destroyed many scrolls, four quills, and some good 
 white paper : I would have taught him in three weeks a 
 firm, current, clear, and legible hand — he should hare 
 been a caligrapher ; but God's will be done." 
 
 The letter contained but a fp-w lines, deeply regretting 
 and murmuring against IVIiss BcTtram's cruelty, who not 
 only refused to see him, but to permit him in the most 
 indirect manner to hear of her health and contribute to 
 her service. But it concluded with assurances that her 
 severity was vain, and that nothing could shake the attach- 
 ment of Charles Hazlewood. 
 
 Under the active patronage of IVIrs. Mac-Cfuiciflish, 
 Sampson picked up some other scholars — very different 
 indeed from Charles Hazlewood in rank — and whose les- 
 sons were proportionally unproductive. Still, howerer, 
 he gained something, and it was the glory of his heart to 
 carry it to Mr. Mac-Morlan weekly, a slight peculi^>m 
 only subtracted, to supply his snuff-box and tobacro- 
 pouch. 
 
 And here we must leave Kippletringan to look af^'^^r 
 our hero, lest our readers should fear they are to lo£<% 
 sight of him for another quarter of a century. 
 
192 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Our Polly is a sad slut, nor heeds what we have taught her; 
 
 I wonder any man alive will ever rear a daughter ; 
 
 For when she's drest with care and cost, all tempting, fine, and gay, 
 
 As men should serve a cucumber, she flings herself away. 
 
 Beggar's Opera. 
 
 Aeter the death of ]Mr. Bertram, Mannering bad set 
 out upon a short tour, proposmg to return to the neigh- 
 bourhood of EHangowan before the sale of that property 
 should take place. He went, accordingly, to Edinburgh, 
 and elsewhere, and it was in his return towards the south- 
 western district of Scotland, in which our scene lies, that, 
 at a post-town about a hundred miles from Kippletringan, 
 to which he had requested his friend, Mr. Mervyn, to 
 addi-ess his letters, he received one from that gentleman, 
 which contained rather unpleasing intelligence. We have 
 assumed abeady the privilege of acting a secretis to this 
 gentleman, and therefore shall present the reader with an 
 extract from this epistle. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, my dearest friend, for the pain I 
 have given you, in forcing you to open wounds so fester- 
 ing as those your letter referred to. I have always heard, 
 though erroneously perhaps, that the attentions of J\lr. 
 Br6wn were intended for Miss Mannering. But, how- 
 ever that were, it could not be supposed that in your 
 situation his boldness should escape notice and chastise- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 193 
 
 ment. Wise men say, that we resign to civil society our 
 natural rights of self-defence, only on condition that the 
 ordinances of law should protect us. Where the price 
 cannot be paid, the resignation becomes void. For in- 
 stance, no one supposes that I am not entitled to defend 
 my purse and person against a highwayman, as much as 
 if I were a wild Indian, who owns neither law nor magis- 
 tracy. The question of resistance, or submission, must 
 be determined by my means and situation. But, if, 
 armed and equal in force, I submit to injustice and vio- 
 lence from any man, high or low, I presume it will hardly 
 be attributed to religious or moral feehng in me, or in any 
 one but a quaker. An aggression on my honour seems 
 to me much the same. The insult, however trifling in 
 itself, is one of much deeper consequence to all views in 
 life than any wrong which can be inflicted by a depre- 
 dator on the highway, and to redress the injured party is 
 much less in the power of public jurisprudence, or rather 
 it is entirely beyond its reach. If any man chooses to 
 rob Arthur Mervyn of the contents of his purse, sup- 
 posing the said Arthur has not means of defence, or the 
 skill and courage to use them, the assizes at Lancaster or 
 CarHsle will do him justice by tucking up the robber.: — 
 Yet who will say I am bound to wait for this justice, and 
 submit to being plundered in the first instance, if I have 
 myself the means and spirit to protect my own property ? 
 3^ut if an affront is offered to me, submission under which 
 is to tarnish my character for ever with men of honour, 
 and for which the twelve Judges of England, with the 
 Chancellor to boot, can afford me no redress, by what rule 
 of law or reason am I to be deterred from protecting what 
 ought to be, and is, so infinitely dearer to every man of 
 honour than his whole fortune ? Of the religious views 
 
 VOL. lU. 13 
 
194 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 of the matter I shall say nothing, until I find a reverond 
 divine who shall condemn self-defence in the article of life 
 and property. If its propriety in that case be generall;^ 
 admitted, I suppose little distinction can be drawn be- 
 tween defence of person and goods, and protection of 
 reputation. That the latter is liable to be assailed by 
 persons of a different rank in hfe, untainted perhaps in 
 morals, and fair in character, cannot affect my legal right 
 of self-defence. I may be sorry that circumstances ha^e 
 engaged me in personal strife with such an individual : 
 but I should feel the same sorrow for a generous enemy 
 who fell under my sword in a national quarrel. I shall 
 leave the question with the casuists, however ; only ob- 
 serving, that what I have written will not avail either the 
 professed duellist, or him who is the aggressor in a dis- 
 pute of honour. I only presume to exculpate him who 
 is dragged into the field by such an offence, as, sub- 
 mitted to in patience, would forfeit for ever his rank and 
 estimation in society. 
 
 " I am sorry you have thoughts of settling in Scotland, 
 and yet glad that you will still be at no immeasurable 
 distance, and that the latitude is all in our favour. To 
 move to Westmoreland from Devonshire might make an 
 East Indian shudder ; but to come to us from Galloway 
 or Dumfriesshire, is a step, though a short one, nearer 
 the sun. Besides, if, as I suspect, the estate in view be 
 connected with the old haunted castle in which you played 
 the astrologer in your northern tour some twenty years 
 since, I have heard you too often describe the scene with 
 comic unction, to hope you will be deterred from making 
 the purchase. I trust, however, the hospitable gossiping 
 Laird has not run himself upon the shallows, and that his 
 chaplain, whom you so often made us laugh at, is still in 
 rerum natura. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 195 
 
 *' And here, dear Mannering, I wish I could stop, for I 
 have incredible pain in telling the rest of my story ; 
 although I am sure I can warn you against any inten- 
 tional impropriety on the part of my temporary ward, 
 Julia Mannering. But I must still earn my college nick- 
 name of Downright Dunstable. In one word, then, here 
 is the matter. 
 
 " Your daughter has much of the romantic turn of your 
 disposition, with a little of that love of admiration which 
 all pretty women share less or more. She will besides, 
 apparently, be your heiress ; a trifling circumstance to 
 those who view Julia with my eyes, but a prevailing bait 
 to the specious, artful, and worthless. You know how I 
 have jested with her about her soft melancholy, and 
 lonely walks at morning before any one is up, and in the 
 moonlight when all should be gone to bed, or set down to 
 cai'ds, which is the same thing. The incident which fol- 
 lows may not be beyond the bounds of a joke, but I had 
 rather the jest upon it came from you than me. 
 
 " Two or three times during the last fortnight, I heard, 
 at a late hour in the night, or very early in the morning, 
 a flageolet play the httle Hindu tune to which your 
 daughter is so partial. I thought for some time that 
 some tuneful domestic, whose taste for music was laid 
 under constraint during the day, chose that silent hour to 
 imitate the strains which he had caught up by the ear 
 during his attendance in the drawing-room. But last 
 night I sat late in my study, which is immediately under 
 INIiss Mannering's apartment, and, to my surprise, I not 
 only heard the flageolet distinctly, but satisfied myself 
 that it came from the lake under the window. Curious 
 to know who serenaded us at that unusual hour, I stole 
 softly to the window of my apartment. But there were 
 
196 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 other watcliers than me. You may remember, Alisa 
 Mannermg preferred that apartment on account of a bal- 
 cony which opened from her window upon the lake. — 
 "Well, sir, I heai'd the sash of her window throwTi up, the 
 shutters opened, and her own voice in conversation with 
 some person who answered from below. This is not, 
 *Much ado about nothing;' I could not be mistaken in 
 her voice, and such tones, so soft, so insinuating — and, to 
 say the truth, the accents from below were in passion's 
 tenderest cadence too — but of the sense I can say nothing. 
 I raised the sash of my own window that I might hear 
 something more than the mere murmur of this Spanish 
 rendezvous ; but, though I used every precaution, the 
 noise alai^med the speakers ; down shd the young lady's 
 casement, and the shutters were barred in an instant. 
 The dash of a pair of oars in the water announced the 
 retreat of the male person of the dialogue. Indeed, I 
 saw his boat, which he rowed with great swiftness and 
 dexterity, fly across the lake like a twelve-oared barge. 
 Next morning I examined some of my domestics, as if by 
 accident, and I found the game-keeper, when making his 
 rounds, had twice seen that boat beneath the house, with 
 a single person, and had heard the flageolet. I did not 
 care to press any farther questions, for fear of implicating 
 Julia in the opinions of those of whom they might be 
 asked. Next morning, at breakfast, I dropped a casual 
 hint about the serenade of the evening before, and I 
 promise you IMiss Mannering looked red and pale alter- 
 nately. I immediately gave the circumstance such a turn 
 as might lead her to suppose that my observation was 
 merely casual. I have since caused a watch-light to be 
 burnt in my hbrary, and have left the shutters open, to 
 deter the approach of our nocturnal guest ; and I have 
 
GUY MINNERING.. 197 
 
 stated tlie severity of approaching winter, and the raw- 
 ness of the fogs, as an objection to soKtary walks. Miss 
 Mannering acquiesced with a passiveness which is no 
 part of her character, and which, to tell you the plain 
 truth, is a feature about the business which I Hke least 
 of all. Julia has too much of her own dear papa's dis- 
 position to be curbed in any of her humours, were there 
 not some little lurking consciousness that it may be as 
 prudent to avoid debate. 
 
 " Now my story is told, and you wiU judge what you 
 ought to do. I have not mentioned the matter to my 
 good woman, who, a faithful secretary to her sex's foibles, 
 would certainly remonstrate against your being made 
 acquainted with these particulars, and might, instead, 
 take it into her head to exercise her own eloquence on 
 Miss Mannering, — a faculty, which, however powerful 
 when directed against me, its legitimate object, might, I 
 fear, do more harm than good in the case supposed. 
 Perhaps even you yourself will find it most prudent tc 
 act without remonstrating, or appearing to be aware of 
 this little anecdote. Julia is very like a certain friend of 
 mine ; she has a quick and lively imagination, and keen 
 feelings, which are apt to exaggerate both the good and 
 evil they find in life. She is a charming girl, however, 
 as generous and spirited as she is lovely. I paid her the 
 kiss you sent her with all my heart, and she rapped my 
 fingers for my reward with all hers. Pray return as 
 Boon as you can. Meantime, rely upon the care of, 
 yours faithfully, Arthur Mervyn. 
 
 " P. S. — You will naturally wish to know if I have the 
 least guess concerning the person of the serenader. In 
 truth, I have none. There is no young gentleman of 
 
198 WAYEELET NOVELS. 
 
 these parts, who might be in rank or fortune a match for 
 Miss Julia, that I think at all likely to play such a 
 character. But on the other side of the lake, nearly 
 opposite to Mervyn-hall, is a d — d cake-house, the resort 
 of walking gentlemen of all descriptions, — poets, players, 
 painters, musicians, who come to rave, and recite, and 
 madden, about this picturesque land of ours. It is 
 paying some penalty for its beauties, that they are the 
 means of di-awing this swarm of coxcombs, together. 
 But were JuHa my daughter, it is one of those sort of 
 fellows that I should fear on her account. She is gener- 
 ous and romantic, and writes six sheets a-week to a 
 female correspondent ; and it's a sad thing to lack a sub- 
 ject in such a case, either for exercise of the feelings or 
 of the pen. Adieu, once more. Were I to treat this mat- 
 ter more seriously than I have done, I should do injustice 
 to your feehngs ; were I altogether to overlook it, I 
 should discredit my own." 
 
 The consequence of this letter was, that having first 
 despatched the faithless messenger with the necessary 
 powers to IVIr. Mac-Morlan for purchasing the estate of 
 Ellangowan, Colonel Mannering turned his horse's head 
 in a more southerly direction, and neither *' stinted nor 
 staid," until he arrived at the mansion of his friend IMr. 
 Mervyn, upon the banks of one of the lakes of West- 
 moreland. 
 
<JCY MANNERING. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 Heaven first, in its mercy, taught mortals their letters, 
 For ladies in limbo, and lovers in fetters, 
 Or some author, who, placiug his persons before ye, 
 Ungallantly leaves them to write their own story. 
 
 Pope, imitated. 
 
 When Mannering returned to England, his first object 
 had been to place his daughter in a seminary for female 
 education, of established character. Not, however, find- 
 iilg her progress ui the accompHshments which he wished 
 her to acquire so rapid as his impatience expected, he 
 had withdrawn INIiss Mannering from the school at the 
 end of the first quarter. So she had only time to form 
 an eternal friendship with IVIiss Matilda Marchmont, a 
 young lady about her own age, which was nearly eigh- 
 teen. To her faithful eye were addi-essed those for- 
 midable quires which issued forth from Mervyn-hall, on 
 the wings of the post, while JVIiss Mannering was a guest 
 there. The perusal of a few short extracts from these 
 may be necessary to render our story intelligible : 
 
 First Extract. 
 
 " Alas ! my dearest Matilda, what a tale is mine to tell ! 
 Misfortune from the cradle has set her seal upon your un- 
 happy friend. That we should be severed for so slight a 
 cause — an ungrammatical phrase in my Italian exercise, 
 «vnd tlu-ee false notes in one of Paesiello's sonatas ! But 
 
200 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 it is a part of my father's character, of whom it is im 
 possible to say whether I love, admire, or fear him the 
 most. His success in life and in war — his habit of 
 making every obstacle yield before the energy of his 
 exertions, even where they seemed insunnountable — all 
 these have given a hasty and peremptory cast to his 
 character, which can neither endure contradiction, nor 
 make allowance for deficiencies. Then he is himself so 
 very accomplished. Do you know there was a murmur 
 half confirmed too by some mysterious words which 
 dropped from my poor mother, that he possesses other 
 sciences, now lost to the world, which enable the pos- 
 sessor to summon up before him the dark and shadowy 
 forms of future events ! Does not the very idea of such 
 a power, or even of the high talent and commanding 
 intellect which the world may mistake for it, — doesjt 
 not, dear Matilda, throw a mysterious grandeur about; 
 its possessor ? You will call this romantic : but consider 
 I was born in the land of talisman and spell, and my 
 jhildhood lulled by tales which you can only enjoy 
 through the gauzy frippery of a French translation. O 
 Matilda, I wish you could have seen the dusky visages 
 of my Indian attendants, bending in earnest devotion 
 round the magic narrative, that flowed, half poetry, half 
 prose, from the hps of the tale-teller ! No wonder that 
 European fiction sounds cold and meagre, after the won- 
 derful effects which I have seen the romances of the East 
 produce upon their hearers." 
 
 Second Extract. 
 
 " You are possessed, my dear Matilda, of my bosom- 
 secret, in those sentiments with which I regard Brown. 
 I will not say his memory — I am convinced he lives, and 
 
GUY BIANNERmG. 201 
 
 is faithful. His addresses to me were countenanced by 
 my deceased parent ; imprudently countenanced perhaps, 
 considering the prejudices of my father in favour of birth 
 and rank. But I, then almost a girl, could not be ex- 
 pected surely to be wiser than she, under whose chaige 
 nature had placed me. My father, constantly engaged 
 in militaiy duty, I saw bufc at rare intervals, and was 
 taaght to look up to him with more awe than confidence. 
 Would to Heaven it had btien otherwise ! It might have 
 been better for us all at this day ! " 
 
 Third Extract. 
 
 " You ask me why I do not make known to my father 
 that Brown yet lives, at least that he survived the wound 
 he received in that unhappy duel ; and had written 
 to my mother, expressing his entire convalescence, and 
 his hope of speedily escaping from captivity. A soldier, 
 that ' in the trade of war has oft slain men,' feels probably 
 no uneasiness at reflecting upon the supposed catastrophe, 
 which almost turned me into stone. And should I show 
 him that letter, does it not follow, that Brown, alive and 
 maintaining with peitinacity the pretensions to the affec- 
 tions of your poor friend, for which my father formerly 
 sought his life, would be a more formidable disturber of 
 Colonel Mannering's peace of mind than his supposed 
 grav }, ? If he escapes from the hands of these marauders, 
 I am convinced he will soon be in England, and it will be 
 then time to consider how his existence is to be disclosed 
 to my father. — But if, alas ! my earnest and confident 
 hopes should betray me, what would it avail to tear open 
 a mystery fraught with so many painful recollections ? — 
 My dear mother had such dread of its being known, that 
 I think she even suffered my father to suspect that 
 
202 TTAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Brown's attentions were directed towards herself, rather 
 than peiTQit him to discover their real object ; — and O, 
 Matilda, whatever respect I owe to the memory of a 
 deceased parent, let me do justice to a Hving one. I 
 cannot but condemn the dubious pohcj which she 
 adopted, as unjust to my father, and highly perilous to 
 herself and me. But peace be with her ashes ! — her 
 actions were guided by the heart rather than the head ; 
 and shaU her daughter, who inherits all her weakness, be 
 the first to withdraw the veil from her defects ? " 
 
 FouKTH Extract. 
 
 " ;Meratx Hall. 
 " If India be the land of magic, this, my dearest Ma- 
 tilda, is the country of romance. The scenery is such as 
 nature brings together in her sublimest moods ; — sounding 
 cataracts — hiUs which rear their scathed heads to the sky 
 — lakes, that, winding ujd the shadowy valleys, lead at 
 every turn to yet raore romantic recesses — rocks which 
 catch the clouds of heaven. AH the wildness of Salvator 
 here — and there, the faiiy scenes of Claude. I am happy, 
 too, in finding at least one object upon which my father 
 can share my enthusiasm. An admirer of nature, both 
 as an artist and a poet, I have experienced the utmost 
 pleasure from the observations by which he explains the 
 character and the effect of these brilliant specimens of 
 her power. I wish he would settle in this enchanting 
 land. But his views He still farther north, and he is at 
 present absent on a tour in Scotland, looking, I believe, 
 for some purchase of land which may suit him as a resi- 
 dence. He is partial, from early recollections, to that 
 country. So, my dearest Matilda, I must be yet farther 
 removed from you before I am established hi a liome.— 
 
GUY MANNERrNG. 203 
 
 And how delighted shall I be when I can say, Come, 
 Matilda, and be the guest of your faithful Julia ! 
 
 " I am at present the inmate of Mr. and Mrs. Mervyn, 
 old friends of my father. The latter is precisely a good 
 sort of woman ; — lady-hke and housewifely, but, for ac- 
 complishments or fancy — good lack, my dearest Matilda, 
 your friend might as well seek sympathy from Mrs. 
 Teach' em, — you see I have not forgot school nicknames., 
 Mervyn is a different — quite a different being from my 
 father ; yet he amuses and endures me. He is fat and 
 good-natured, gifted with strong shrewd sense, and some 
 powers of humour ; but having been handsome, I suppose, 
 in his youth, has still some pretension to be a heau g argon, 
 as well as an enthusiastic agriculturist. I delight to 
 make him scramble to the tops of eminences and to the 
 foot of waterfalls, and am obliged in turn to admire his 
 turnips, his lucem, and his timothy-grass. He thinks me, 
 I fancy, a simple romantic Miss, with some — (the word 
 will be out) beauty, and some good-nature ; and I hold 
 that the gentleman has good taste for the female outside, 
 and do not expect he should comprehend my sentiments 
 farther. So he rallies, hands, and hobbles, (for the dear 
 creature has got the gout too,) and tells old stories of high 
 life, of which he has seen a great deal ; and I listen, and 
 smile, and look as pretty, as pleasant, and as simple as I 
 can, — and we do very well. 
 
 " But, alas ! my dearest Matilda, how would time pass 
 awa}', even in this paradise of romance, tenanted as it is 
 by a pair assorting so ill with the scenes around them, 
 were it not for your fideHty in replying to my uninterest- 
 ing details ? Pray do not fail to write three times a- we ek 
 at least, — ^you can be at no loss what to say." 
 
204 waverley novels. 
 
 Fifth Extract. 
 
 " How shall I communicate what I have now to tell ! 
 My hand and heart still flutter so much, that the task 
 of writing is almost impossible ! Did I not say that he 
 li^ed? did I not say I would not despair? How could 
 you suggest, my dear Matilda, that my feelings, consider- 
 ing I had parted from him so young, rather arose from 
 tlie warmth of my imagmation than of my heart? O ! I 
 was sure that they were genuine, deceitful as the dictates 
 of our bosom so frequently are. But to my tale — let it 
 be, my friend, the most sacred, as it is the most sincere 
 pledge of our friendship. 
 
 " Our hours here are early — earlier than my heart, 
 with its load of care, can compose itself to rest. I, there- 
 fore, usually take a book for an hour or two after retirmg 
 to my own room, which I think I have told you opens to 
 a small balcony, looking down upon that beautiful lake, 
 of which I attempted to give you a slight sketch. Mervyn- 
 hall, being partly an ancient building, and constructed with 
 a view to defence, is situated on the verge of the lake. A 
 stone dropped from the projecting balcony plunges into 
 water deep enough to float a skiff. I had left my window 
 partly unbarred, that, before I went to bed, I might, 
 according to my custom, look out and see the moonhght 
 shining upon the lake. I was deeply engaged with that 
 beautiful scene in the Merchant of Venice, where two 
 lo\'ers, describing the stillness of a summer night, enhance 
 on each other its charms, and was lost in the associations 
 of story and of feeling which it awakens, when I heard 
 upon the lake the sound of a flageolet. I have told you 
 it was Brown's favourite instrument. Who could touch 
 it in a night which, though still and serene, was too cold, 
 and too late in the year, to invite forth any wanderer 
 
GUT MANNERING. 205 
 
 for mere pleasure ? I drew jet nearer the window, aud 
 hearkened with breatldess attention ; — the sounds paused 
 a space, were then resumed — paused again — and again 
 reached my ear, ever coining nearer and nearer. At 
 length, I distinguished plainly that httle Hindu air which 
 you called my favourite — I have told you by whom it 
 was taught me'; — the instrument, the tones, were his own ! 
 Was it earthly music, or notes passing on the wind, to 
 warn me of his death ? 
 
 " It was some time ere I could summon courage to step 
 on the balcony — nothing could have emboldened me to do 
 so but the strong conviction of my mind that he was still 
 ahve, and that we should again meet ; but that conviction 
 did embolden me, and I ventured, though with a throbbing 
 heart. There was a small skiff, with a single person — 
 0, Matilda, it was himself! — I knew his appearance after 
 so long an absence, and through the shadow of the night, 
 as perfectly as if we had parted yesterday, and met again 
 in the broad sunshine ! He guided his boat under the 
 balcony, and spoke to me. I hardly knew what he said, 
 or what I replied. Indeed, I could scarcely speak for 
 weeping, — ^but they were joyful tears. We were dis- 
 turbed by the barking of a dog at some distance, and 
 parted, but not before he had conjured me to prepare to 
 meet him at the same place and hour this evening. 
 
 " But where and to what is all this tending ? Can I 
 answer this question ? I cannot. Heaven, that saved him 
 from death, and delivered him from captivity — that saved 
 my father, too, from shedding the blood of one who would 
 not have blemished a hair of his head, — that Heaven 
 must guide me out of this labyrinth. Enough for me the 
 firm resolution, that Matilda shall not blush for her friend, 
 my father for his daughter, nor my lover for her on whoiQ 
 he has fixed his affection." 
 
206 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. 
 
 Talk with a man out of a window ! — a proper saying. 
 
 Much Ado about NoTHma. 
 
 "We must proceed with our extracts from Miss Man- 
 nering's letters, which throw light upon natural good 
 sense, principle, and feelings, blemished by an imperfect 
 education, and the folly of a misjudging mother, who 
 called her husband in her heart a tyrant until she feared 
 him as such, and read romances until she became so en- 
 amoured of the complicated intrigues which they contain, 
 as to assume the management of a little family novel of 
 her own, and constitute her daughter, a girl of sixteen, 
 the principal heroine. She delighted in petty mystery, 
 and intrigue, and secrets, and yet trembled at the indig- 
 nation which these paltry manoeuvres excited in her hus- 
 band's mind. Thus she frequently entered upon a scheme 
 merely for pleasure, or perhaps for the love of contradic- 
 tion — plunged deeper into it than she was aware — en- 
 deavoured to extricate herself by new arts, or to cover 
 her error by dissimulation — became involved in meshes 
 of her own weaving, and was forced to carry on, for fear 
 of iliicovery, machinations which she had at first resorted 
 to in mere wantonness. 
 
 Fortunately the young man whom she so imprudently 
 introduced into her intimate society, and encouraged to 
 look up to her daughter, had a fund of principle and 
 
GUr MANNEEING. 207 
 
 honest pride, which rendered him a safer intimate than 
 Mrs. Mannering ought to have dared to hope or expect. 
 The obscurity of his birth could alone be objected to 
 liim ; in everj other respect, 
 
 With prospects bright upon the world he came, 
 Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame ; 
 Men watched the way his lofty mind would take, 
 And aU foretold the progress he would make. 
 
 But it (!ould not be expected that he should resist the 
 snare which Mrs. Mannering's imprudence threw in his 
 way, or avoid becoming attached to a young lady, whose 
 beauty and manners might have justified his passion, even 
 in scenes where these are more generally met with, than 
 in a remote fortress in our Indian settlements. The 
 scenes which followed have been partly detailed in Man- 
 nering's letter to Mr. Mervyn ; and to expand what is there 
 stated mto further explanation, would be to abuse the 
 patience of our readers. 
 
 We shall, therefore, proceed with our promised extracts 
 from Miss Mannering's letters to her friend : — 
 
 Sixth Extract. 
 " I have seen him again, Matilda — seen him twice. I 
 nave used every argument to convince him that this secret 
 intercourse is dangerous to us both. I even pressed hira 
 to pursue his views of fortune without farther regard to 
 me, and to consider my peace of mind as sufficiently 
 secured by the knowledge that he had not fallen under 
 my father's sword. He answers — but how can I detail 
 all he has to answer ? He claims those hopes as liis due 
 which my mother permitted him to entertain, and would 
 persuade me to the madness of a union without my father's 
 sanction. But to this, Matilda, I will not be persuaded. 
 
208 WAYERLEY NOYELS. 
 
 I have resisted, I have subdued, the rebellious feelings 
 which ai'0::^e to aid his plea ; — jet how to extricate myself 
 from this unhappy labyrhith, in wliich fate and folly have 
 entangled us both ! 
 
 " I have thought upon it, Matilda, till my head is almost 
 gidd} — nor can I conceive a better plan than to make 
 a full confession to my father. He deserves it, for his 
 kindness is unceasing ; and I think I have observed in 
 his character, since I have studied it more nearly, that 
 his harsher feehngs are chiefly excited where he suspects 
 deceit or imposition ; and in that respect, perhaps, his 
 character was formerly misunderstood by one who was 
 dear to him. He has, too, a tinge of romance in his dis- 
 position ; and I have seen the narrative of a generous 
 action, a trait of heroism, or vu'tuous self-denial, extract 
 tears from him, which refused to flow at a tale of mere 
 distress. But then, Brown urges, that he is personally 
 hostile to him. And the obscurity of his birth — that 
 would be indeed a stumbhng-block. O Matilda, I hope 
 none of your ancestors ever fought at Poictiers or Agui- 
 court ! If it were not for the veneration which my father 
 attaches to the memory of old Sii' Miles Mannering, I 
 should make out my explanation with half the tremor 
 which must now attend it." 
 
 Seventh Extract. 
 
 " I have this instant received your letter — your moit 
 welcome letter ! Thanks, my dearest friend, for your 
 BjTiipathy and your counsels — I can only repay them Avith 
 unbounded confidence. 
 
 " You ask me, what Brown is by origin, that his descent 
 should be so unpleasing to my father. His story is shortly 
 told. He is of Scottish extraction; but, being left an 
 
GUY MAKNERING. 209 
 
 orphan, Lis education was undertaken by a family of rela- 
 tions, settled in Holland. He was bred to commerce, 
 and sent very early to one of our settlements in the East, 
 where his guardian had a correspondent. But this cor- 
 respondent was dead when he arrived in India, and he 
 had no other resource than to offer himself as a clerk to 
 a counting-house. The breaking out of the war, and tie 
 straits to which we were at first reduced, threw the army 
 open to all young men who were disposed to embrace 
 that mode of hfe ; and Brown, whose genius had a strong 
 mihtary tendency, was the first to leave what might have 
 been the road to wealth, and to choose that of fame. The 
 rest of his history is well known to you ; — ^but conceive 
 the irritation of my father, who despises conamerce, 
 (though, by the way, the best part of his property was 
 made in that honourable profession by my great uncle,) 
 and has a particular antipathy to the Dutch — think with 
 what ear he would be likely to receive proposals for his 
 only child from Yanbeest Brown, educated for charity by 
 the house of Vanbeest and Vanbruggen ! O Matilda, it 
 will never do — nay, so childish am I, I hardly can help 
 sympathizing with his aristocratic feelings. Mrs. Yan- 
 beest Brown ! The name has little to recommend it to be 
 sure. What children we are ! " 
 
 Eighth Extract. 
 
 "It is all over now, Matilda! I shall never have 
 courage to tell my father — nay, most deeply do I fear he 
 has already learned my secret from another quarter, 
 which will entirely remove the grace of my communica- 
 tion, and ruin whatever gleam of hope I had ventured to 
 connect with it. Yesternight, Brown came as usual, and 
 his flageolet on the lake announced his approach. We 
 
 VOL. m. 14 
 
210 WATERLEY XOTELS. 
 
 had agreed that he should continue to use this signaL 
 These romantic lakes attract numerous visitors, who in- 
 dulge their enthusiasm in visiting the scenery at all hours, 
 and we hoped, that if Brown were noticed from the house, 
 he might pass for one of those admirers of nature, wlio 
 was giving vent to his feelings through the medium of 
 music. The sounds might also be my apology, should 1 
 be obsei-ved on the balcony. But last night, while I waa 
 eagerly enforcing my plan of a full confession to my 
 father, which he as earnestly deprecated, we heai'd the 
 window of Mr. Mervyn's library, which is under my 
 room, open softly. 1 signed to Brown to make his re- 
 treat, and immediately re-entered, with some faint hopes 
 that our interview had not been observed. 
 
 " But, alas ! Matilda, these hopes vanished the instant 
 1 beheld Mr. Mervyn's countenance at breakfast the next 
 morning. He looked so provokingly intelligent and con- 
 fidential, that, had I dared, I could have been more angry 
 than ever I was in my life. But I must be on good be- 
 haviour, and my walks are now limited within his farm 
 precincts, where the good gentleman can amble along by 
 my side without inconvenience. I have detected him 
 once or twice attempting to sound my thoughts, and 
 watch the expression of my countenance. He has talked 
 of the flageolet more than once ; and has at different 
 times made eulogiums upon the watchfulness and ferocity 
 of his dogs, and the regularity with which the keeper 
 makes his rounds with a loaded fowling-piece. He jnen- 
 tioned even man-traps and sprmg-guns. I should be loath 
 to affront my father's old friend in his own house ; but I 
 do long to show him that I am my father's daughter, a 
 fact of which Mr. ]Mervyn will certainly be convinced, if 
 ever T tru^t my voice and temper with a reply to these 
 
GUY MANNERING. 211 
 
 indirect Ixints. Of one thing I am certain — ^I am grateful 
 to him on that account — he has not told Mrs. Mervyn, 
 Lord help me, I should have had such lectures about the 
 dangers of love and the night air on the lake, the risk 
 arising from colds and fortune-hunters, the comfort and 
 convenience of sack-whej and closed windows ! I cannot 
 help trifling, Matilda, though my heart is sad enough. 
 What Brown will do I cannot guess. I presume, how- 
 ever, the fear of detection prevents his resuming his 
 nocturnal visits. He lodges at an inn on the opposite 
 shore of the lake, under the name, he tells me, of Dawson 
 — he has a bad choice in names, that must be allowed. 
 He has not left the army, I beUeve, but he says nothing 
 of his present views. 
 
 " To complete my anxiety, my father is returned sud- 
 denly, and in high displeasure. Our good hostess, as I 
 learned from a bustling conversation between her house- 
 keeper and her, had no expectation of seeing him for a 
 week ; but I rather suspect his arrival was no surprise to 
 his friend Mr. Merv^nn. His manner to me was singu- 
 larly cold and constrained — sufficiently so to have damped 
 all the courage with which I once resolved to throw my- 
 self on his generosity. He lays the blame of his being 
 discomposed and out of humour to the loss of a purchase 
 in the south-west of Scotland, on which he had set his 
 heart; but I do not suspect his equanimity of being so 
 easily thrown off its balance. His first excursion was 
 with Mr. Mervyn's barge across the lake, to the inn I have 
 mentioned. You may imagine the agony with which I 
 waited his return. Had he recognised Brown, who can 
 guess the consequence ? He returned, however, appar- 
 ently without having made any discovery. I understand, 
 that in consequence of his late disappointment, he means 
 
212 WAVERLET N0YEL3. 
 
 now to hire a house in the neighbourhood of this same 
 Ellangowan, of which I am doomed to hear so much — he 
 seems to think it probable that the estate for which he 
 wishes may soon be again in the market. I will not send 
 away this letter until I hear more distinctly what are his 
 intentions." 
 
 '^ I have now had an interview with my father, as con- 
 fidential as, I presume, he means to allow me. He re- 
 quested me to-day, after breakfast, to walk with him into 
 the library : my knees, Matilda, shook under me, and it 
 is no exaggeration to say I could scarce follow him into 
 the room. I feared I knew not what : from my child- 
 hood I had seen all around him tremble at his frown. 
 He motioned me to seat myself, and I never obeyed a 
 command so readily, for, in truth, I could hardly stand. 
 He himself continued to walk up and down the room. 
 You have seen my father, and noticed I recollect, the 
 remarkably expressive cast of his features. His eyes are 
 naturally rather light in colour, but agitation or anger 
 gives them a darker and more fiery glance ; he has a 
 custom also of drawing in his lips, when much moved, 
 which implies a combat between native ardour of temper 
 and the habitual power of self-command. This was the 
 first time we had been alone since his return from Scot- 
 land, and, as he betrayed these tokens of agitation, I had 
 little doubt that he was about to enter upon the subject I 
 most dreaded. 
 
 " To my unutterable relief, I found I was mistaken, 
 and that whatever he knew of Mr. Mervyn's suspicions 
 or discoveries, he did not intend to converse with me on 
 the topic. Coward as I was, I was inexpressibly re- 
 lieved, though if he had really investigated the reports 
 
GUY MANNERING. 213 
 
 which may have come to his ear, the reahty could have 
 been notliing to what his suspicions might have conceived. 
 But though my spirits rose high at my unexpected escape, 
 I had not courage myself to provoke the discussion, and 
 remained silent to receive his commands. 
 
 " ' Juha,' he said, ' my agent writes me from Scotland, 
 that he has been able to hire a house for me, decently 
 furnished, and with the necessary accommodation for my 
 family — it is within three miles of that I had designed to 
 purchase.' Then he made a pause, and seemed to ex- 
 pect an answer. 
 
 " * Whatever place of residence suits you, sir, must be 
 perfectly agreeable to me.' 
 
 " * Umph ! — I do not propose, however, Julia, that you 
 shall reside quite alone in this house during the winter.' 
 
 "Mr. and IMrs. Mervyn, thought I to myself. — 
 * Whatever company is agreeable to you, sir,' I answered 
 aloud 
 
 " ' 0, there is a httle too much of this universal spirit 
 of submission ; an excellent disposition in action, but 
 your constantly repeating the jai'gon of it, puts me in 
 mind of the eternal salaams of our black dependents in 
 the East. In short, Julia, I know you have a relish 
 for society, and I intend to invite a young person, the 
 daughter of a deceased friend, to spend a few months 
 ynih us.' 
 
 " ' Not a governess, for the love of Heaven, papa ! ' 
 exclaimed poor I, my fears at that moment totally getting 
 the better of my prudence. 
 
 " ' No, not a governess, IMiss Maunering,' rephed the 
 Colonel somewhat sternly, ' but a young lady from whose 
 excellent example, bred as she has been in the school 
 of adversity, I trust you may learn the art to govern 
 yourself.' 
 
214 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 "To answer this was trencliing upon too dangerous 
 ground ; so there was a pause. 
 
 " ' Is the young lady a Scotchwoman, papa ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes ' — dryly enough. 
 
 " ' Has she much of the accent, sir ? ' 
 
 " ' Much of the devil ! ' answered my father hastily : 
 ' do you think I care about a's and aa's, and ^''s and ee's ? 
 — -I tell you, Julia, I am serious in the matter. You 
 have a genius for friendship, that is, for running up inti- 
 macies which you call such ' — (was not this very harshly 
 said, Matilda ?) ' Now I wish to give you an opportunity 
 at least to make one deserving friend ; and therefore I 
 have resolved that this young lady shall be a member of 
 my family for some months, and I expect you will pay 
 to her that attention which is due to misfortune and 
 virtue.' 
 
 " ' Certainly, sir. Is my future friend red-haired ? ' 
 
 " He gave me one of his stern glances ; you will say, 
 perhaps, I deserved it ; but I think the deuce prompts me 
 with teasing questions on some occasions. 
 
 " ' She is as superior to you, my love, in personal ap- 
 pearance, as in prudence and affection for her friends.' 
 
 " ' Lord, papa, do you think that superiority a recom- 
 mendation ? — Well, sir, but I see you are going to take 
 aU tliis too seriously : whatever the young lady may be, 
 I am sure, being recommended by you, she shall have no 
 reason to complain of my want of attention.' — (After a 
 pause) — ' Has she any attendant ? because you know I 
 must provide for her proper accommodation if she is 
 without one.' 
 
 "'N — no — no — not properly an attendant — the chap- 
 lain who lived with her father is a very good sort of man, 
 and I believe I shaU make room for him in the house.' 
 
GUY MANNERING. 215 
 
 " ' Chaplain, papa ? Lord bless us ! ' 
 
 " ' Yes, Miss Mannering, chaplain ; is there any thing 
 very new in that word ? Had we not a chaplain at the 
 Residence, when we were in India ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, papa, but you was a commandant then/ 
 
 " ' So I will be now, Miss Mannering, — ^in my own 
 family at least.' 
 
 " ' Certainly, sir. But will he read us the Church of 
 England service ? ' 
 
 " The apparent simplicity with which I asked this ques- 
 tion got the better of his gravity. ' Come, Julia,' he said, 
 ' you are a sad girl, but I gain nothing by scolding you. 
 Of these two strangers, the young lady is one whom you 
 cannot fail, I think, to love; — ^the person whom, for 
 want of a better term, I called chaplain, is a very worthy, 
 and somewhat ridiculous, personage, who will never 
 find out you laugh at him, if you don't laugh very loud 
 indeed.' 
 
 " ' Dear papa ! I am delighted with that part of his 
 character. But pray, is the house we are going to as 
 pleasantly situated as this ? ' 
 
 " ' Not, perhaps, as much to your taste — there is no 
 lake under the windows, and you will be under the ne- 
 cessity of having all your music within doors.' 
 
 " This last coup de main ended the keen encounter of 
 our wits ; for you may believe, Matilda, it quelled all my 
 courage to reply. 
 
 " Yet my spirits, as perhaps will appear too manifest 
 from this dialogue, have risen insensibly, and, as it were, 
 in spite of myself Brown alive, and free, and in Eng- 
 land! Embarrassment and anxiety I can and must 
 endure. We leave this in two days for our new resi- 
 dence. I shall not fail to let you know what I think of 
 
216 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 these Scotch inmates, whom I have but too much reason 
 to beheve my father means to quarter in his house as a 
 brace of honourable spies ; a sort of female Rozen- 
 crantz and reverend Guildenstern, one in tartan petticoats, 
 the other in a cassock. What a contrast to the society I 
 would willingly have secured to myself! I shall write 
 instantly on my arriving at our new place of abode, 
 and acquaint my dearest Matilda with the farther fates 
 of — her 
 
 " Julia IMannering.** 
 
GUY MANNERING. 217 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Wliich sloping hills around enclose, 
 Where many a beech and brown oak grows. 
 Beneath whose dark and branching bowers, 
 Its tides a far-famed river pours, 
 By nature's beauties taught to please, 
 Sweet Tusculane of rural ease ! — 
 
 Waeton. 
 
 WooDBOHRNE, the habitation which Mannering, by 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan's mediation, had hired for a season, was 
 a large comfortable mansion, snugly situated beneath a 
 hill covered with wood, which shrouded the house upon 
 the north and east ; the front looked upon a little lawn 
 bordered by a grove of old trees ; beyond were some 
 arable fields, extending down to the river, which was seen 
 from the windows of the house. A tolerable, though old- 
 fashioned garden, a well-stocked dove-cot, and the posses- 
 sion of any quantity of ground which the convenience of 
 the family might require, rendered the place in every 
 respect suitable, as the advertisements have it, " for the 
 accommodation of a genteel family." 
 
 Here, then, Mannering resolved, for some time at 
 least, to set up the staff of his rest. Though an East- 
 Indian, he was not partial to an ostentatious display of 
 wealth. In fact, he was too proud a man to be a vain 
 one. He resolved, therefore, to place himself upon the 
 footing of a country gentleman of easy fortune, tvithout 
 
218 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 assuming, or permittirig his household to assume, any of 
 che faste which then was considered as characteristic of 
 a nabob. 
 
 He had still his eye upon the purchase of Ellangowan, 
 which Mac-Morlan conceived Mr. Glossin would be com- 
 pelled to part with, as some of the creditors disputed his 
 tille to retain so large a part of the purchase-money in 
 Lis own hands, and his power to pay it was much ques- 
 tioned. In that case Mac-Morlan was assured he would 
 readily give up his bargain, if tempted with something 
 above the price which he had stipulated to pay. It may 
 seem strange that Mannering was so much attached to a 
 spot which he had only seen once, and that for a short 
 time in early hfe. But the circumstances which passed 
 there had laid a strong hold on his imagination. There 
 seemed to be a fate which conjoined the remarkable pas- 
 sages of his own family history with those of the inhab- 
 itants of Ellangowan, and he felt a mysterious desire to 
 call the terrace his own, from which he had read in the 
 book of heaven a fortune strangely accomplished in the 
 person of the infant heir of that family, and correspond- 
 ing so closely with one wliich had been strikingly fulfilled 
 in his own. Besides, when once this thought had got 
 possession of his imagination, he could not without great 
 reluctance brook the idea of his plan being defeated, and 
 by a fellow like Glossin. So pride came to the aid of 
 fancy, and both combined to fortify his resolution to buy 
 the estate if possible. 
 
 Let us do Mannering justice. A desire to serve the 
 distressed had also its share in determining him. He had 
 considered the advantage which Julia might receive from 
 the company of Lucy Bertram, whose genuine prudence 
 and good sense could so surely be rehed upon. This idea 
 
GUY MANNER! JsG. 219 
 
 had become much stronger since Mac-Morlau had con- 
 fided to him, under the solemn seal of secrecy, the whole 
 of her conduct towards young Hazlewood. To propose 
 to her to become an inmate in his family, if distant from 
 the scenes of her youth and the few whom she called 
 friends, would have been less delicate; but at Wood- 
 bourne she might without difficulty be induced to become 
 the visitor of a season, without being depressed into th«^ 
 situation of an humble companion. Lucy Bertram, with 
 some hesitation, accepted the invitation to reside a few 
 weeks with Miss Mannering. She felt too well, that, 
 however the Colonel's delicacy might disguise the truth, 
 his principal motive was a generous desu-e to afford her 
 his countenance and protection, which his high connex- 
 ions, and higher character, were likely to render influen- 
 tial in the neighbourhood. 
 
 About the same time the orphan girl received a letter 
 from Mrs. Bertram, the relation to whom she had written, 
 as cold and comfortless as could well be imagined. It 
 enclosed, indeed, a small sum of money, but strongly 
 recommended economy, and that Miss Bertram should 
 board herself in some quiet family, either at Kippletrin- 
 gan, or in the neighbourhood, assuring her, that though 
 her own income was very scanty, she would not see her 
 kinswoman want. Miss Bertram shed some natural tears 
 over this cold-hearted epistle ; for in her mother's time, 
 this good lady had been a guest at Ellangowan for nearly 
 three years, and it was only upon succeeding to a prop- 
 erty of about £400 a-year that she had taken farewell 
 of that hospitable mansion, which otherwise might have 
 had the honour of sheltering her until the death of its 
 owner. Lucy was strongly inclined to return the paltry 
 donation, which, after some struggles with avarice, pride 
 
220 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 had extorted from the old lady. But, on consideration, 
 slie contented herself with writing, that she accepted it as 
 a loan, which she hoped in a short time to repay, and 
 consulted her relative upon the invitation she had re- 
 ceived from Colonel and Miss Mannering. This time 
 the answer came in course of post, so fearful was Mrs. 
 Bertram that some frivolous dehcacy, or nonsense, as she 
 termed it, might induce her cousin to reject such a prom- 
 ising offer, and thereby at the same time to leave herself 
 still a burden upon her relations. Lucy, therefore, had no 
 alternative, unless she preferred continuing a burden upon 
 the worthy Mac-Morlans, who were too Hberal to be rich. 
 Those kinsfolk, who formerly requested the favour of her 
 company, had of late, either silently, or with expressions 
 of resentment that she should have preferred Mac-Mor- 
 lan's invitation to theirs, gradually withdrawn their notice. 
 The fate of Dominie Sampson would have been de- 
 plorable had it depended upon any one except Manner- 
 ing, who was an admirer of originaHty ; for a separation 
 from Lucy Bertram would have certainly broken his 
 heart. Mac-Morlan had given a full account of his pro- 
 ceedings towai'ds the daughter of his patron. The answer 
 was a request from Mannering to know, whether the 
 Dominie still possessed that admirable virtue of tacitur- 
 nity by which he was so notably distinguished at Ellan- 
 gowan. — Mac-Morlan repUed in the affirmative. — " Let 
 Mr Sampson know," said the Colonel's next letter, "that 
 I shall want liis assistance to catalogue and put in order 
 the library of my uncle, the bishop, which I have ordered 
 to be sent down by sea. I shall also want him to copy 
 and arrange some papers. Fix his salary at what you 
 thmk befitting. Let the poor man be properly dressed, 
 and accompany his young lady to Woodbourne." 
 
GUY MANNElilNG. 221 
 
 - ILonest Mac-Morlan received this mandate witli great 
 joy, but pondered much upon executing that part of it 
 which related to nev.dy attiring the worthy Dominie. He 
 looked at him with a scrutinizing eye, and it was but too 
 plain that his present garments were daily waxuig more 
 deplorable. To give him money, and bid him go and 
 furnish himself, would be only giving him the means of 
 making himself ridiculous ; for when such a rare event 
 arrived to Mr. Sampson as the purchase of new gaiments, 
 the additions which he made to his wardrobe by the 
 guidance of his own taste, usually brought all the boys 
 of the village after him for many days. On the other 
 hand, to bring a tailor to measure him, and send home 
 his clothes as for a schoolboy, would probably give offence. 
 At length Mac-Morlan resolved to consult Miss Bertram 
 and request her interference. She assured him, that 
 though she could not pretend to superintend a gentle- 
 man's wardrobe, nothing was more easy than to arrange 
 the Dominie's. 
 
 " At EUangowan," she said, " whenever my poor father 
 thought any part of the Dominie's dress wanted renewal, 
 a servant was directed to enter his room by night, for he 
 sleeps as fast as a dormouse, carry off the old vestment, 
 and leave the new one ; — nor could any one observe tliat 
 the Dominie exhibited the least consciousness of the 
 change put upon him on such occasions." 
 
 Mac-Morlan, in conformity with Miss Bertram's advice, 
 procured a skilful artist, who, on looking at the Dominie 
 attentively, undertook to make for him two suits of 
 clothes, one black, and one raven-grey, and even engaged 
 that they should fit him — as well at least (so the tailor 
 qualified his entei-prise) as a man of such an out-of-the- 
 way li uild could be fitted by merely human needles and 
 
222 ^AVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 shears. TVTien this fashioner had accomphshed his task, 
 and the dresses were brought home, Mac-Morlan, judi- 
 ciously resolving to accomplish his purpose by degrees, 
 w4thdj*ew that evening an important part of his di*ess, 
 and substituted the new article of raiment in its stead. 
 Perceiving that this passed totally without notice, he next 
 ventured on the waistcoat, and lastly on the coat. When 
 fully metamorphosed, and ai-rayed for the first time in his 
 life in a decent dress, they did observe, that the Dominie 
 seemed to have some indistinct and embaiTassing con- 
 sciousness that a change had taken place on his outwai'd 
 man. Whenever they observed this dubious expression 
 gather upon his countenance, accompanied with a glance, 
 that fixed now upon the sleeve of his coat, now upon the 
 knees of his breeches, where he probably missed some 
 antique patching and darning, w^hich, being executed with 
 blue tlu'ead upon a black ground, had somewhat the effect 
 of embroidery, they always took care to turn his attention 
 into some other channel, until his garments, " by the aid 
 of use, cleaved to their mould." The only remark he 
 was ever known to make on the subject was, that the 
 " air of a town Hke Kippletringan seemed favourable 
 unto weai-ing apparel, for he thought his coat looked 
 ahnost as new as the fii'st day he put it on, which was 
 when he went to stand trial for his Hcense as a preacher." 
 When the Dominie first heard the liberal proposal of 
 Colonel Mannering, he turned a jealous and doubtful 
 glance towards ]\Ess Bertram, as if he suspected that the 
 project involved their separation ; but when Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan hastened to explain that she would be a guest at 
 Woodbourne for some time, he rubbed his hu^e hands 
 together, and burst into a portentous sort of chuckle, like 
 that of the Afrite in the tale of the Cahph Vathek 
 
GUY MANN ERIN G. 
 
 223 
 
 After this unusual explosion of satisfaction, lie remained 
 quite passive in all the rest of the transaction. 
 
 It had been settled that Mr. and Mrs. Mac-Morlan 
 should take possession of the house a few days before 
 Maniiering's arrival, both to put everything in perfect 
 oi'der, and to make the transference of Miss Btrtram 3 
 r(3sidence from their family to his as easy and delicato as 
 possible. Accordingly, in the beginning of the month of 
 December the party were settled at Woodboume. 
 
224 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A gigantic genius, fit to grapple with whole libraries. 
 
 Boswell's Life of Johnson. 
 
 The appointed day arrived, when the Colonel and 
 Miss Mamiering were expected at Woodboume. The 
 hour was fast approaching, and the little circle within 
 doors had each theii* sepai-ate subjects of anxiety. Mac- 
 Morlan naturally desired to attach to himself the pat- 
 ronage and countenance of a person of Mannering's 
 wealth and consequence. He was aware, from his 
 knowledge of mankind, that Mannering, though generous 
 and benevolent, had the foible of expecting and exacting 
 a minute comphance with his directions. He was there- 
 fore racking his recollection to discover if everything 
 had been arranged to meet the Colonel's wishes and 
 instructions, and, under this uncertainty of mind, he 
 traversed the house more than once from the garret to 
 the stables. Mrs. Mac-Morlan revolved in a lesser orbit, 
 comprehending the dining parlour, housekeeper's room, 
 and kitchen. She was only afraid that the dinner might 
 be spoiled, to the discredit of her housewifery accom- 
 plishments. Even the usual passiveness of the Dominie 
 was so far disturbed, that he twice went to the window, 
 which looked out upon the avenue, and twice exclaimed, 
 ** Why tarry the wheels of their chariot ? " Lucy, the 
 most quiet of the expectants, had her own melancholy 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 225 
 
 thoughts. She Was now about to be consigned to the 
 charge, almost to the benevolence, of strangers, with 
 whose character, though hitherto very amiably displayed, 
 she was but imperfectly acquainted. The moments, 
 therefore, of suspense passed anxiously and heavily. 
 
 At length the tramphng of horses and the sound of 
 wheels were heard. The servants, who had already 
 arrived, drew up in the h&ll to receive their master and 
 mistress, with an importance and empressement^ which, to 
 Lucy, who had never been accustomed to society, or 
 witnessed what is called the manners of the great, had 
 something alarming. Mac-Morlan went to the door to 
 receive the master and mistress of the family, and in a 
 few moments they were in the drawing-room. 
 
 Mannering, who had travelled, as usual, on horseback, 
 entered with his daughter hangmg upon his arm. She 
 was of the middle size, or rather less, but formed -with 
 much elegance ; piercing dark eyes, and jet black hair 
 of great length, corresponded with the vivacity and in- 
 telligence of features, in which were blended a little 
 haughtiness and a little bashfulness, a great deal of 
 shrewdness, and some power of humorous sarcasm. " I 
 shall not like her," was the result of Lucy Bertram's first 
 glance ; " and yet I rather think I shall," was the thought 
 excited by the second. 
 
 Miss INIannering was furred and mantled up to the 
 throat against the severity of the weather ; the Colonel 
 in his military great-coat. He bowed to Mrs. Mac- 
 Morlan, whom his daughter also acknowledged with a 
 fashionable courtesy, not dropped so low as at all to 
 incommode her person. The Colonel then led his 
 daughter up to Miss Bertram, and, taking the hand of 
 the latter, with an air of great kindness, and almost 
 
 VOL. III. 16 
 
!26 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 paternal affection, he said, " Julia, this is the young lady 
 whom I hope our good friends have prevailed on to 
 honour our house with a long visit. I shall be much 
 gratified indeed if you can render Woodbourne as pleasant 
 to Miss Bertram, as EUangowan was to me when I first 
 came as a wanderer into this country." 
 
 The young lady courtesied acquiescence, and took her 
 new friend's hand. Mannering now turned his eye upon 
 the Dominie, who had made bows since his entrance into 
 the room, sprawling out his leg, and bending his back 
 like an automaton, which continues to repeat the same 
 movement, until the motion is stopt by the artist. " My 
 good friend, Mr. Sampson," — said Mannering, introducing 
 him to his daughter, and darting at the same time a 
 reproving glance at the damsel, notwithstanding he had 
 himself some disposition to join her too obvious inclina- 
 tion to risibility — " This gentleman, Julia, is to put my 
 books in order when they arrive, and I expect to derive 
 great advantage from his extensive learning." 
 
 " I am sure we are obliged to the gentleman, papa — 
 and, to borrow a ministerial mode of giving thanks, I 
 shall never forget the extraordinary countenance he has 
 been pleased to show us. — But, Miss Bertram," continued 
 she hastily, for her father's brows began to darken, " we 
 have travelled a good way, — will you permit me to retire 
 before dinner ? " 
 
 This intimation dispersed all the company, save the 
 Dominie, who, having no idea of dressing but when he 
 was to rise, or of undressing but when he meant to go to 
 bed, remained by himself, chewing the cud of a mathe- 
 matical demonstration, until the company again assembled 
 in the drawing-room, and from thence adjourned to Iho 
 dining^parlour. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 227 
 
 When tlie day was concluded, Mannering took an 
 opportunity to hold a minute's conversation with his 
 daughter in private. 
 
 " How do you like your guests, Julia ? " 
 
 " O, Miss Bertram of all things. — But this is a most 
 original parson — why, dear sir, no human being will be 
 able to look at him without laughing." 
 
 " While he is under my roof, Juha, every one must 
 learn to do so." 
 
 " Lord, papa, the very footmen could not keep their 
 gravity ! " 
 
 " Then let them strip off my livery," said the Colonel, 
 "and laugh at their leisure. Mr. Sampson is a man 
 whom I esteem for his simplicity and benevolence of 
 character." 
 
 " 0, I am convinced of his generosity too," said this 
 lively lady ; " he cannot lift a spoonful of soup to his 
 mouth without bestowing a share on every thing round.'* 
 
 " Julia, you are incorrigible ; — but remember, I expect 
 your mirth on this subject to be under such restraint, that 
 it shall neither offend this worthy man's feehngs nor those 
 of Miss Bertram, who may be more apt to feel upon his 
 account than he on his own. And so, good-night, my 
 dear ; and recollect that, though Mr. Sampson has cer- 
 tainly not sacrificed to the graces, there are many things 
 in this world more truly deserving of ridicule than either 
 awkwardness of manners or simplicity of character." 
 
 In a day or two Mr. and Mrs. Mac-Morlan left Wood- 
 l»oume, after taking an affectionate farewell of their late 
 guest. The household were now settled in their new 
 quarters. The young ladies followed their studies and 
 amusements together. Colonel Mannering was agreeably 
 surprised to find that Miss Bertram was well skilled in 
 
228 WAYEELET NOVELS. 
 
 French and Italian — thanks to the assiduity of Dominie 
 Sampson, whose labour had silently made him acquainted 
 with most modern as well as ancient languages. Of 
 music she knew httle or nothing, but her new friend 
 undertook to give her lessons ; in exchange for which, 
 she was tc learn from Lucy the habit of walking, and the 
 art of riding, and the courage necessary to defy the 
 season. Mannering was careful to substitute for their 
 amusement in the evening such books as might convey 
 some solid instruction with entertainment, and as he read 
 aloud with great skill and taste, the winter nights passed 
 pleasantly away. 
 
 Society was quickly formed where there were so many 
 inducements. Most of the families of the neighbourhood 
 visited Colonel Mannering, and he was soon able to select 
 from among them such as best suited his taste and habits. 
 Charles Hazlewood held a distinguished place in his 
 favour, and was a frequent visitor, not without the consent 
 and approbation of his parents ; for there was no know- 
 ing, they thought, what assiduous attention might produce, 
 and the beautiful Miss Mannering, of high family, with 
 an Indian fortune, was a prize worth looldng after. Daz- 
 zled with such a prospect, they never considered the risk 
 which had once been some object of their apprehension, 
 that his boyish and inconsiderate fancy might form an 
 attachment to the penniless Lucy Bertram, who had noth- 
 ing on earth to recommend her, but a pretty face, good 
 bu'th, and a most amiable disposition. Mannering was 
 more prudent. He considered himself acting as Miss 
 Bertram's guardian, and while he did not think it incum 
 bent upon him altogether to check her intercourse with a 
 young gentleman for whom, excepting in wealth, she was 
 a match in every respect, he laid it under such insensible 
 
GUT MAKNERING. 229 
 
 restraints as might prevent any engagement or eclaircisse' 
 ment taking place until the young man should have seen 
 a little more of life and of the world, and have attained 
 that age when he might be considered as entitled to judge 
 for himself in the matter in which his happiness was 
 chiefly interested. 
 
 While these matters engaged the attention of the other 
 members of the Woodboume family, Dominie Sampson 
 was occupied, body and soul, in the arrangement of the 
 late bishop's Hbrary, which had been sent from Liverpool 
 by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty carts from the 
 seaport at which it was landed. Sampson's joy at be- 
 holding the ponderous contents of these chests arranged 
 upon the floor of the large apartment, from whence he 
 was to transfer them to the shelves, baflles all description. 
 He grinned like an ogre, swung his arms like the sails of 
 a wind-mill, shouted " Prodigious " till the roof rung to 
 his raptures. " He had never," he said, " seen so many 
 books together, except in the College Library ; " and now 
 his dignity and delight in being superintendent of the 
 collection, raised him, in his own opinion, almost to the 
 rank of the academical librarian, whom he had always 
 regarded as the greatest and happiest man on earth. 
 Neither were his transports diminished upon a hasty 
 examination of the contents of these volumes. Some in- 
 deed, of belles lettres, poems, plays, or memoirs, he tossed 
 indignantly aside, with the implied censure of " psha," or 
 "frivolous;" but the greater and bulkier part of the 
 collection bore a very different character. The deceased 
 prelate, a divine of the old and deeply-learned cast, had 
 loaded his shelves with volumes which displayed the 
 antique and venerable attributes so happily described by 
 a modern poet ; 
 
280 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 That weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid, 
 Those ample clasps of solid metal made, 
 The close-pi'essed leaves unoped for many an age, 
 The duU red edging of the well-filled page. 
 On the broad back the stubborn ridges rolled, 
 Where yet the title stands in tarnished gold. 
 
 Books of theology and controversial divinity, commen* 
 taries, and polyglots, sets of the fathers, and sermons, 
 which might each furnish forth ten brief discourses of 
 modem date, books of science, ancient and modern, 
 classical authors in their best and rarest forms ; such 
 formed the late bishop's venerable library, and over such 
 the eye of Dominie Sampson gloated with rapture. He 
 entered them in the catalogue in his best running hand, 
 forming each letter with the accuracy of a lover writing 
 a valentine, and placed each individually on the destined 
 shelf with all the reverence which I have seen a lady pay 
 to a jar of old china. With all this zeal his labours 
 advanced slowly. He often opened a volume when half- 
 way up the hbrary-steps, fell upon some interesting pas- 
 sage, and, without shifting his inconvenient posture, 
 continued immersed in the fascinating perusal until the 
 servant pulled him by the skirts to assure liim that dinner 
 waited. He then repaired to the parlour, bolted his food 
 down his capacious throat in squares of three inches, 
 answered ay or no at random to whatever question was 
 asked at him, and again hurried back to the library as 
 soon as his napkin was removed, and sometimes with it 
 hanging round his neck hke a pinafore — 
 
 How happily the days 
 Of Thalaba went by ! 
 
 . And, having thus left the principal characters of our 
 tale in a situation which, being sutficiently comforta]»le 
 
GUT MANNERING. 
 
 231- 
 
 to themselves, is of course utterly uninteresting to the 
 reader, we take up the history of a person who has as 
 yet only been named, and who has all the interest that 
 uucertainty and misfortune can give. 
 
202 WAYEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 What say'st thou, Wise-Oue? — that all powerful Love 
 Can fortune's strong impediments remove; 
 Nor is it strange that worth should wed to worth, 
 The pride of genius with the pride of birth. 
 
 Grabbs. 
 
 V. Brown — I will not give at full length his thiioe 
 unhappy name — had been from infancy a ball for fortune 
 to spurn at ; but nature had given him that elasticity of 
 mind which rises higher from the rebound. His form 
 was tall, manly, and active, and his features corresponded 
 with his person ; for, although far from regular, they had 
 an expression of intelligence and good humour, and when 
 he spoke, or was particularly animated, might be decid- 
 edly pronounced interesting. His manner indicated the 
 military profession, which had been his choice, and in 
 which he had now attained the rank of Captain, the 
 person who succeeded Colonel Mannering in his com- 
 mand having laboured to repair the injustice which 
 Brown had sustained by that gentleman's prejudice 
 against him. But this, as well as his liberation frcm 
 captivity, had taken place after Mannering left India. 
 Brown followed at no distant period, his regiment being 
 recalled home. His first inquiry was after the family 
 of Mannering, and, easily learning their route northward, 
 he followed it, with the purpose of resuming his addresses 
 to Julia. With her father he deemed he had no measures 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 233 
 
 to keep ; for, ignorant of the more venomous belief which 
 fiad been instilled into the Colonel's mind, he regarded 
 him as an oppressive aristocrat, who had used his power 
 as a commanding officer to deprive him of the preferment 
 due to his behaviour, and who had forced upon him a 
 personal quarrel, without any better reason than his at- 
 tentions to a pretty young woman, agreeable to herself, 
 and permitted and countenanced by her mother. He 
 was determined, therefore, to take no rejection unless 
 from the young lady herself, believing that the heavy 
 misfortunes of his painful wound and imprisonment were 
 direct injuries received from the father, which might dis- 
 pense with his using much ceremony towards him. 
 How far his scheme had succeeded when his nocturnal 
 visit was discovered by Mr. Mervyn, our readers are 
 already informed. 
 
 Upon this unpleasant occurrence, Captain Brown ab- 
 sented himself from the inn in which he had resided 
 under the name of Dawson, so that Colonel Mannering's 
 attempts to discover and trace him were unavailing. He 
 resolved, however, that no difficulties should prevent his 
 continuing his enterj^rise, while Julia left liim a ray of 
 hope. The interest he had secured in her bosom was 
 such as she had been unable to conceal from him, and 
 with all the courage of romantic gallantry he determined 
 upon perseverance. But we believe the reader will be 
 as well pleased to learn his mode of thinking and inten- 
 tions from his ow^n communication to his special friend 
 and confidant. Captain Delaserre, a Swiss gentleman, who 
 had a company in his regiment. 
 
 Extract. 
 "Let me hear from you soon, dear Delaserre. — Re- 
 
2S4 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 member, I can learn nothing about regimental affairs but 
 tlii'OLigh your friendly medium, and I long to know what 
 has become of' Ayre's court-martial, and whether Elliot 
 gets the majority ; also how recruiting comes on, and how 
 the young officers Hke the mess. Of om' kind friend, 
 the Lieutenant-Colonel, I need ask nothing ; I saw him 
 as I passed through Nottingham, happy in the bosom of 
 Jus family. What a happiness it is, Philip, for us poor 
 devils, that we have a little resting-place between the 
 camp and the grave, if we can manage to escape disease, 
 and steel, and lead, and the effects of hard hving. A re- 
 tired old soldier is always a graceful and respected charac- 
 ter. He grumbles a httle now and then, but then his is 
 licensed murmuring. Were a lawyer, or a physician, or a 
 clergyman, to breathe a complaint of hai'd luck or want 
 of preferment, a hundred tongues would blame his own 
 incapacity as the cause ; but the most stupid veteran 
 that ever faltered out the thricetold tale of a siege and a 
 battle, and a cock and a bottle, is listened to with sym- 
 pathy and reverence, when he shakes his thin locks, and 
 talks with indignation of the boys that are put over his 
 head. And you, and I, Delaserre, foreigners both, — 
 for what am I the better that I was originally a Scotch- 
 man, since, could I prove my descent, the English would 
 hai'dly acknowledge me a countryman ? — we may boast 
 that we have fought out our preferment, and gained that 
 by the sword which we had not money to compass 
 otherwise. The English are a wise people. While they 
 praise themselves, and affect to undervalue all other 
 nations, they leave us, luckily, trap-doors and back- 
 doors open, by which we strangers, less favoured by 
 nature, may arrive at a share of their advantages. And 
 thus they are, in some respects, hke a boastful landlord, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 235 
 
 who exalts the value and flavour of his six-years-old 
 mutton, while he is dehghted to dispense a share of it 
 to all the company. In short, you, whose proud family, 
 and I, whose hard fate, made us soldiers of fortune, have 
 the pleasant recollection, that in the British service, stop 
 where we may upon our career, it is only for want of 
 money to pay the turnpike, and not from our being pro- 
 hibited to travel the road. If, therefore, you can persuade 
 little Weischel to come in to ours, for God's sake let him 
 buy the eusigncy, live prudently, mind his duty, and trust 
 to the Fates for promotion. 
 
 " And now, I hope you are expiring with curiosity to 
 learn the end of my romance. I told you I had deemed 
 it convenient to make a few days' tour on foot among the 
 mountains of Westmoreland with Dudley, a young Eng- 
 lish artist, with whom I have formed some acquaintance. 
 A fine fellow this, you must know, Delaserre — he paints 
 tolerably, draws beautifully, converses well, and plays 
 charmingly on the flute ; and though thus weU entitled 
 to be a coxcomb of talent, is, in fact, a modest unpretend- 
 ing young man. On our return from our Httle tour, I 
 learned that the enemy had been reconnoitring. j\Ir. 
 Mervyn's barge had crossed the lake, I was informed by 
 my landlord, with the squire himself and a visitor. 
 
 " ' "What sort of person, landlord ? ' 
 
 "'Why, he was a dark officer-looking mon, at they 
 called Colonel — Squoire Mervyn questioned me as close 
 as I had been at sizes — I had guess, Mr. Dawson' (I told 
 you that was my feigned name) — ' But I tould him 
 nought of your vagaries, and going out a-laking in the 
 mere a-noights — not I — an I can make no sport, I'se 
 spoil none — and Squoire Mervyn's as cross as poy-crust 
 too, mon— he's aye maundering an my guests but land 
 
236 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 beneath his house, though it be marked for the fourth 
 station in the Survey. Noa, noa, e'en let un smell things 
 out o' themselves for Joe Hodges.' 
 
 " You will allow there was nothing for it after this, but 
 paying honest Joe Hodges' bill, and departing, unless I 
 had preferred making him my confidant, for which I felt 
 ia no way inchned. Besides, I learned that our ci-devant 
 Colonel was on full retreat for Scotland, carrying off poor 
 JuHa along with him. I understand from those who 
 conduct the heavy baggage, that he takes his winter- 
 quarters at a place called Woodbourne, in shire in 
 
 Scotland. He will be all on the alert just now, so I must 
 let him enter his entrenchments without any new alarm. 
 And then, my good Colonel, to whom I owe so many 
 grateful thanks, pray look to your defence. 
 
 " I protest to you, Delaserre, I often think there is a 
 little contradiction enters into the ardour of my pursuit. 
 I think I would rather bring this haughty insulting man 
 to the necessity of calling his daughter Mrs. Brown, than 
 I would wed her with his full consent, and with the 
 king's permission to change my name for the style and 
 arms of Mannering, though his whole fortune went with 
 them. There is only one circumstance that chills me a 
 little — Julia is young and romantic. I would not willingly 
 hurry her into a step which her riper years might disap- 
 prove. — No ; — ^nor would I hke to have her jpbraid me, 
 were it but with a glance of her eye, with having ruined 
 her fortunes — far less give her reason to say, as some 
 have not been slow to tell their lords, that, had I left her 
 time for consideration, shft would have been wiser and 
 done better. No, Delaserie — this must not be. The 
 picture presses close upon me, because I am aware a girl 
 in Juha's situation has no distinct and precise idea of the 
 
GUT MANNERING. . 237 
 
 value of tlie sacrifice she makes. She knows difiicuhies 
 only by name ; and, if she thinks of love and a farm, it is 
 a ferme ornee, such as is only to be found in poetic 
 description, or in the park of a gentleman of twelve 
 thousand a-year. She would be ill prepared for the 
 privations of that real Swiss cottage we have so often 
 talked of, and for the difficulties which must necessarily 
 surround us even before we attained that haven. This 
 must be a point clearly ascertained. Although JuHa's 
 beauty and playful tenderness have made an impression 
 on my heart never to be erased, I must be satisfied that 
 she perfectly understands the advantages she foregoes, 
 before she sacrifices them for my sake. 
 
 " Am I too proud, Delaserre, when I trust that even 
 this trial may terminate favourably to my wishes ? — Am 
 I too vain, when I suppose that the few personal qualities 
 which I possess, with means of competence, however 
 moderate, and the determination of consecrating my life 
 to her happiness, may make amends for all I must call 
 upon her to forego ? Or will a difference of dress, of 
 attendance, of style, as it is called, of the power of shift- 
 ing at pleasure the scenes in which she seeks amusement, 
 — ^will these outweigh, in her estimation, the prospect of 
 domestic happiness, and the interchange of unabating 
 affection ? I say nothing of her father ; — his good and 
 evil qualities are so strangely mingled, that the former 
 are neutralized by the latter ; and that which she must 
 regret as a daughter is so much blended with what she 
 would gladly escape from, that I place the separation of 
 the father and child as a circumstance which weighs little 
 in her remarkable case. Meantime, I keep up my spirits 
 as I may. I have incurred too many hardships and diffi- 
 culties to be presumptuous or confident in success, and I 
 
WAVERI.ET NOVELS. 
 
 have been too often and too wonderfully extricated Irom 
 them to be despondent. 
 
 " I wish you saw this country. I think the scenery 
 would delight you. At least it often brings to my recol- 
 lection your glowing descriptions of your native country 
 To me it has in a great measure the charm of novelty. 
 Of the Scottish hills, though born among them, as I have 
 always been assured, I have but an indistinct recollection. 
 Indeed, my memory rather dwells upon the blank which 
 my youthful mind experienced in gazing on the levels of 
 the isle of Zealand, than on any thing which preceded 
 that feeling ; but I am confident, from that sensation, as 
 well as from the recollections which preceded it, that hills 
 and rocks have been famihar to me at an early period, 
 and that though now only remembered by contrast, and 
 by the blank which I felt while gazing around for them 
 in vain, they must have made an indelible impression 
 on my infant imagination. I remember, when we first 
 mounted that celebrated pass in the Mysore country, 
 while most of the others felt only awe and astonishment 
 at the height and grandeur of the scenery, I rather shared 
 your feelings and those of Cameron, whose admii'ation of 
 such wild rocks was blended with familiar love, derived 
 from early association. Despite my Dutch education, a 
 blue hill to me is as a friend, and a roaring torrent like 
 the sound of a domestic song that hath soothed my infancy. 
 I never felt the impulse so strongly as in this land of lakes 
 and mountains, and nothing grieves me so much as that 
 duty prevents your being with me in my numerous ex- 
 cursions among its recesses. Some drawings I have 
 attempted, but I succeed vilely. — Dudley, on the contrary, 
 draws delightfully, with that rapid touch which seems 
 like magic, while I labour and botch, and make this too 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 239 
 
 heavy, and that too light, and produce at last a base 
 caricature. I must stick to the flageolet, for music is the 
 only one of the fine arts which deigns to acknowledge 
 me. 
 
 " Did jou know that Colonel Mannering was a draughts*-^ 
 man? — I believe not, for he scorned to display his ac- 
 complishments to the view of a subaltern. He draws 
 beautifully, however. Since he and Julia left Mer^yn- 
 hall, Dudley was sent for there. The squire, it seems, 
 wanted a set of drawings made up, of which Mannering 
 had done the first four, but was interrupted, by his hasty 
 departure, in his purpose of completing them. Dudley 
 says he has seldom seen any thing so masterly, though 
 shght ; and each had attached to it a short poetical 
 description. Is Saul, you will say, among the prophets ? 
 — Colonel Mannering write poetry ! — Why, surely this 
 man must have taken all the pains to conceal his accom- 
 plishments, that others do to display theirs. How reserved 
 and unsociable he appeared among us ! — ^how Httle dis- 
 posed to enter into any conversation wliich could become 
 generally interesting ! — And then his attachment to that 
 unworthy Archer, so much below him in every respect ; 
 and all this, because he was the brother of Viscount 
 Archerfield, a poor Scottish peer ! I think, if Ai'cher 
 had long survived the wounds in the affair of Cuddy- 
 boram, he would have told something that might have 
 thrown hght upon the inconsistencies of this singular 
 man's character. He repeated to me more than once, * 1 
 have that to say, which will alter* your hard opinion of 
 our late Colonel.' But death pressed him too hard ; and 
 if he owed me any atonement, which some of his expres- 
 sions seemed to imply, he died before it could be made 
 
 *' I propose to make a further excursion through this 
 
240 WAYEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 country while this fine frosty weather serves, and Dudley 
 almost as good a walker as myself, goes with me for some 
 part of the way. We part on the borders of Cumberland 
 when he must return to his lodgings in Marybone, up 
 three pair of stairs, and labour at what he calls the com- 
 mercial part of his profession. There cannot, he says, be 
 such a difference betwixt any two portions of existence as 
 between that in which the artist, if an enthusiast, collects 
 the subjects of his drawings, and that which must neces- 
 sarily be dedicated to turning over his portfoho, and 
 exhibiting them to the provoking indifference, or more 
 provoking criticism, of fashionable amateurs. ' During 
 the summer of my year,' says Dudley, ' I am as free as 
 a wild Indian, enjoying myself at hberty amid the grand- 
 est scenes of nature ; while, during my winters and 
 springs, I am not only cabined, cribbed, and confined in a 
 miserable garret, but condemned to as intolerable sub- 
 servience to the humour of others, and to as indifferent 
 company, as if I were a literal galley-slave.' I have 
 promised him your acquaintance, Delaserre ; — you will 
 be dehghted with his specimens of art, and he with your 
 Swiss fanaticism for mountains and torrents. 
 
 " When I lose Dudley's company, I am informed that 
 I can easily enter Scotland, by stretching across a wild 
 country in the upper part of Cumberland ; and that route 
 I shall follow, to give the Colonel time to pitch his camp 
 ere I reconnoitre his position. — Adieu ! Delaserre — • 
 I shall hardly find another opportunity of -v^riting till I 
 reach Scotland." 
 
GUT MANNERLNG. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 Jog on, jog on, the footpath way, 
 
 And merrily bend the stile-a ; 
 A merry heart goes all the day, 
 
 A sad one tires in a mile-a. 
 
 Winteb's Taib. 
 
 Let the reader conceive to himself a clear frosty No- 
 vember morning, the scene an open heath, having for tho 
 back-ground that huge chain of mountains in which 
 Skiddaw and Saddleback are pre-eminent ; let him look 
 along that hlind road, by which I mean the track so 
 shghtly marked by the passengers' footsteps, that it can 
 but be traced by a slight shade of verdure from the darker 
 heath around it, and, being only visible to the eye when 
 at some distance, ceases to be distinguished while the 
 foot is actually treading it : along this faintly-traced 
 path advances the object of our present narrative. His 
 firm step, his erect and free carriage, have a miHtary air, 
 which corresponds well with his well-proportioned limbs, 
 and stature of six feet high. His dress is so plain and 
 simple, that it indicates nothing as to rank : it may be 
 that of a gentleman who travels in this manner for his 
 pleasure — or of an inferior person, of whom it is the 
 proper and usual garb. Nothing can be on a more 
 reduced scale than his travelUng equipment. A volume 
 of Shakspeare in each pocket, a small bundle with a 
 
 VOL. ui. 16 
 
242 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 change of linen slung across his shoulders, an oaken 
 cudgel in his hand, complete our pedestrian's accom- 
 modations ; and in this equipage we present him to our 
 readers. 
 
 Brown had parted that morning from his friend Dudley, 
 and began his solitary walk towards Scotland. 
 
 The first two or three miles were rather melancholy, 
 from want of the society to which he had of late been 
 accustomed. But this unusual mood of mind soon gave 
 way to the influence of his natural good spirits, excited 
 by the exercise and the bracing effects of the frosty air. 
 He whistled as he went along, — not "from want of 
 thought," but to give vent to those buoyant feelings which 
 he had no other mode of expressing. For each peasant 
 whom he chanced to meet, he had a kind greeting or a 
 good-humoured jest : the hardy Cumbrians grinned as 
 they passed, and said, " That's a kind heart, God bless 
 un ! " and the market-girl looked more than once over 
 her shoulder at the athletic form, which corresponded so 
 well with the frank and blithe address of the stranger. 
 A rough terrier dog, his constant companion, who rivalled 
 his master in glee, scampered at large in a thousand 
 wheels round the heath, and came back to jump up on 
 him, and assure him that he participated in the pleasure 
 of the journey. Dr. Johnson thought life had few things 
 better than the excitation produced by being whirled 
 rapidly along in a post-chaise ; but he who has in youth 
 experienced the confident and independent feeling of a 
 stout pedestrian in an interesting country, and during fine 
 weather, will hold the taste of the great morahst cheap 
 in comparison. 
 
 Part of Brown's view in choosing that unusual tract 
 which leads through the eastern wilds of Cumberland 
 
GUT MANNERING. 243 
 
 into Scotland, had been a desire to view tlie remains of 
 the celebrated Roman Wall, which are more visible in 
 that direction than in any other part of its extent. His 
 education had been imperfect and desultory ; but neither 
 the busy scenes in which he had been engaged, nor the 
 pleasures of youth, nor the precarious state of his own 
 circumstances, had diverted him from the task of mental 
 improvement. — " And this, then, is the Roman Wall." he 
 said, scrambling up to a height which commanded the 
 course of that celebrated work of antiquity : " What a 
 people ! whose labours, even at this extremity of their 
 empire, comprehended such space, and were executed 
 upon a scale of such grandeur! In future ages, when 
 the science of war shall have changed, how few traces 
 will exist of the labours of Yauban and Coehorn, while 
 this wonderful people's remains will even then continue 
 to interest and astonish posterity ! Their fortifications, 
 their aqueducts, their theatres, their fountains, all their 
 public works, bear the grave, solid, and majestic charactei 
 of their language ; while our modern labours, like our 
 modern tongues, seem but constructed out of their frag- 
 ments." Having thus morahzed, he remembered that he 
 was hungry, and pursued his walk to a small pubhc-house 
 at which he proposed to get some refreshment. 
 
 The alehouse, for it was no better, was situated in the 
 bottom of a Httle dell, through which trilled a small riv- 
 ulet. It was shaded by a large ash tree, against which 
 the clay-built shed, that served the purpose of a stable, 
 was erected, and upon which it seemed partly to rechne. 
 In this shed stood a saddled horse, employed in eating his 
 corn. The cottages in this part of Cumberland partake 
 of the rudeness which characterizes those of Scotland 
 The outside of the house promised Uttle for the interior, 
 
244 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 notwithstanding the vaunt of a sign, where a tankard of 
 ale voluntarily decanted itself into a tumbler, and a hiero- 
 glyphical scrawl below attempted to express a promise of 
 "good entertainment for man and horse." Bro^vn was 
 no fastidious traveller — he stopped and entered the cal>- 
 aret.* 
 
 * It is fitting to explain to the reader the locality described in this 
 chapter. There is, or rather I should say there was, a little inn, called 
 Mump's Hall, — that is, being interpreted, Beggai-'s Hotel — ^near to GUs- 
 land, which had not then attained its present fame as a Spa. It was 
 a hedge alehouse, where the Border farmers of either country often 
 stopped to refresh themselves and their nags, in their way to and from 
 the fairs and trysts in Cumberland, and especially those who came 
 from, or went to Scotland, through a baiTcn and lonely district, with- 
 out either road or pathway, emphatically called the Waste of Bew- 
 castle. At the period when the adventures described in the novel are 
 supposed to have taken place, there were many instances of attacks 
 by freebooters on those who travelled through this Avild district; and 
 Mump's Ha' had a bad reputation for harbouring the banditti who 
 committed such depredations. 
 
 An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by sur- 
 name an Armstrong or Elliott, but well known by his sobriquet of 
 Fighting Charlie of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the courage 
 he displayed in the frequent frays which took place on the Border fifty 
 or sixty years since, had the followhig adventure in the Waste, which 
 suggested the idea of the scene in the text : — 
 
 Charlie had been at Stagshaw-bank Fair, had sold his sheep or cattle, 
 or whatever he had brought to market, and was on his return to Lid- 
 desdale. There were then no country banks where cash could be 
 deposited, and bills received instead, which greatly encourf i^ed rob- 
 bery in that wild country, as the objects of plunder weit ascaUy 
 fraught with gold. The robbers had spies in the fair, by n eans of 
 whom they generally knew Avhose purse was best stocked, t-nd who 
 took a lonely and desolate road homeward, — those, in short, who were 
 best worth robbing, and likely to be most easily robbed. 
 
 All this Charlie knew full well; — but he had a pair of excellent pis- 
 tols, and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mump's Ha', notwithstand- 
 uig the evil character of the place. His horse was accommodated 
 where it might have the necessary rest and feed of corn ; and Charlie 
 himself, a dashing fellow, grew gracious with the landlady, a buxom 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 245 
 
 The first object which caught his eje in the kitchen, 
 was a tall, stout, country-looking man, in a large jockej' 
 
 quean, who used all the influence in her power to induce him to stop 
 all night. The landlord was from home, she said, and it was ill pass- 
 ing the Waste, as twilight must needs descend on him before he gained 
 tlie Scottish side, which was reckoned the safest. But Fighting Char- 
 lie, though he suffered himself to be detained later than was pnident, 
 (lid not account Mump's Ha' a safe place to quarter in during the 
 night. He tore himself away, therefore, from Meg's good fare and 
 kind words, and mounted his nag, having first examined his pistols, 
 and tried by the rami'od whether the charge remained in them. 
 
 He proceeded a mile or two, at a round trot, when, as the Waste 
 stretched black before him, apprehensions began to awaken in his 
 mind, pai-tly arising out of JMeg's unusual kindness, which he could 
 not help thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He therefoi-e 
 resolved to reload his pistols, lest the powder had become damp ; but 
 what was his surprise, when he drew the charge, to find neither powder 
 nor ball, while each ban-el had been carefully filled with tow, up to the 
 space which the loading had occupied ! and, the priming of the weap- 
 ons being left untouched, nothing but actually drawing and examining 
 the charge could have discovered the inefficiency of his arms till the 
 fatal minute arrived when their services were required. Charlie be- 
 stowed a hearty Liddesdale curse on his landlady, and reloaded his 
 pistols with care and accuracy, having now no doubt that he was to be 
 waylaid and assaulted. He was not far engaged in the Waste, which 
 was then, and is now, traversed only by such routes as are described 
 in the text, when two or three fellows, disguised and varioiisly armed, 
 started from a ftioss-hag, while, by a glance behind him, (for, march- 
 ing, as the Spaniard says, with his beard on his shoulder, he i-econnoi- 
 tred in every direction,) Charlie instantly saw retreat was impossible, 
 as other two stout men appeared behind him at some distance. The 
 Borderer lost not a moment in taking his resolution, and boldly trotted 
 against his enemies in front, who called loudly on him to stand and 
 deliver. Charlie spurred on, and presented his pistol. " D — u your 
 pistol! " said the foremost robber, whom Charlie to his dying day pro- 
 tested he believed to have been the landlord of Mump's Ha' — " D — n 
 your pistol! I care not a curse for it." — "Ay, lad," "said the deep 
 voice of Fighting Charlie, " but the tow's out now.'''' He had no occa- 
 sion to utter another word : the rogues, sm-prised at finding a man of 
 redoubted corn-age well armed, instead of being defenceless, took to 
 the mobs in every direction, and he passed on his way without farther 
 molestation- 
 
246 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 great-coat J the owner of the horse which stood m the she J; 
 who was bus}^ discussing huge shces of cold boiled beef, 
 and casting from time to time an eye through the window, 
 to see how his steed sped with his provender. A large 
 tankard of ale flanked his plate of victuals, to which he 
 appHed himself by intervals. The good woman of the 
 house was employed in baking. The fire, as is usual in 
 that country, was on a stone hearth, in the midst of an 
 immensely large chimney, which had two seats extended 
 beneath the vent. On one of these sat a remarkably tall 
 woman, in a red cloak and slouched bonnet, having the 
 appearance of a tinker or beggar. She was busily en- 
 gaged with a short black tobacco-pipe. 
 
 At the request of Brown for some food, the landlady 
 wiped with her mealy apron one corner of the deal table, 
 placed a wooden trencher and knife and fork before the 
 traveller, pointed to the round of beef, recommended 
 Mr. Dinmont's good example, and, finally, filled a brown 
 pitcher with her home-brewed. Brown lost no time in 
 doing ample credit to both. For a while, his opposite 
 neighbour and he were too busy to take much notice of 
 each other, except by a good-humoured nod as each in 
 turn raised the tankard to his head. At length, when our 
 pedestrian began to supply the w^ants of little Wa.sp, the 
 Scotch store-farmer, for such was Mr. Dinmont, found 
 himself at leisure to enter into conversation. 
 
 "A bonny terrier that, sir — and a fell chield at the 
 vermin, I warrant him — that is, if he's been weel entered, 
 for it a' hes in that." 
 
 The author has heard this story told by persons who received it 
 from Fighting Charlie himself; he has also heard that Slump's Ha' 
 was afterwards the scene of some other ati'ocious villany, for which 
 the people of the house suffered. But these are all tales of at least 
 half a century old, and the Waste has been for many years as safe as 
 any place in the kingdom. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 247 
 
 « Really, sir," said Brown, " his education has been 
 somewhat neglected, and his chief property is being a 
 pleasant con panion." 
 
 "Ay, sir?— that's a pity, begging your pardon — it's a 
 great pity that — beast or body, education should aye be 
 minded. I- have six terriers at hame, forbye twa couple 
 of slow-hunds, five grews, and a wheen other dogs. 
 I'liere's auld Pepper and auld Mustard, and young Pepper 
 and young Mustard, and little Pepper and little Mustard ; 
 I had them a' regularly entered, first wi' rottens — then 
 wi' stots or weasels — and then wi' the tods and brocks — 
 and now they fear naething that ever cam wi' a hairy 
 skin on't." 
 
 " I have no doubt, sir, they are thorough-bred — ^but, to 
 have so many dogs, you seem to have a very limited 
 variety of names for them ? " 
 
 " O, that's a fancy of my ain to mark the breed, sir — 
 The Deuke him sell has sent as far as Charlies-hope to 
 get ane o' Dandie Dinmont's Pepper and Mustai'd ter- 
 riers — Lord, man, he sent Tarn Hudson* the keeper, 
 and sicken a day as we had wi' the fumarts and the tods, 
 and sicken a blythe gaedown as we had again e'en ! 
 Faith, that was a night ! " 
 
 " I suppose game is very plenty with you ? " 
 
 " Plenty, man ! — I believe there's mair hares than 
 sheep on my farm ; and for the moor-fowl, or the grey- 
 fowl, they lie as thick as doos in a dooket. — Did ye ever 
 shoot a black-cock, man ? " 
 
 " Really, I had never even the pleasure to see one, 
 except in the museum at Keswick." 
 
 " There now — I could guess that by your Southland 
 
 * The real namft Df tliis veteran sportsman is now restored. 
 
248 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 tongue. It's very odd of these English folk that come 
 here, how few of them has seen a black-cock ! I'll tell 
 you what — ye seem to be an honest lad, and if you'll call 
 on me — on Dandie Dinmont — at CharHes-hope — ye shall 
 see a black-cock, and shoot a black-cock, and eat a black- 
 cock too, man." 
 
 " Why, the proof of the matter ig the eating, to be 
 sure, sir ; and I shall be happy, if I can find time, to 
 accept your invitation." 
 
 " Time, man ? what ails ye tc gae hame wi' me the 
 now ? How d'ye travel ? " 
 
 " On foot, sir ; and if that handsome pony be yours, 1 
 should find it impossible to keep up with you." 
 
 " No, unless ye can walk up to fourteen mile an hour. 
 But ye can come ower the night as far as Kiccarton, 
 where there is a pubhc — or if ye hke to stop at Jockey 
 Grieve's at the Heuch, they would be blythe to see ye, 
 and I am just gaun to stop and drink a dram at the door 
 wi' him, and I would tell him you're coming up ; — or 
 stay — Gudewife, could ye lend this gentleman the gude- 
 man's galloway, and I'll send it ower the Waste in the 
 morning wi' the callant ? '* 
 
 The galloway was turned out upon the fell, and was 
 swear to catch. — "Aweel, aweel, there's nae help for't, 
 but come up the morn at ony rate. — And now, gudewife, 
 I maun ride, to get to the Liddel or it be dark, for your 
 Waste has but a kittle character, ye ken yoursell." 
 
 " Hout fie, Mr. Dinmont, that's no Hke you, to gie the 
 country an ill name. — I wot, there has been nane stirred 
 in the Waste since Sawney CuUoch, the travelling- 
 merchant, that Rowley Overdees and Jock Penny 
 suffered for at Carlisle twa years since. There's no ane 
 in Bewcastle would do the hke o' that now — we be a* 
 true folk now." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 249 
 
 ** Ay, Tib, that will be when the deil's blind, — and his 
 een's no sair yet. But hear ye, gudewife, I have been 
 through raaist feck o' Galloway and Dumfries-shire, and 
 I have been round by Carlisle, and I was at the Stane- 
 ishiebank fair the day, and I would like ill to be rubbit 
 sae near hame — so I'll take the gate." 
 
 " Hae ye Deen in Dumfiies and Gallowaj ? " said the 
 old dame, who sate smoking by the fire-side, and who had 
 not yet spoken a word. 
 
 " Troth have I, gudewife, and a weary round I've had 
 o't." 
 
 " Then ye'll maybe ken a place they ca' Ellangowan ? " 
 
 " Ellangowan, that was Mr. Bertram's ? — I ken the 
 place weel eneugh. The Laird died about a fortnight 
 since, as I heard." 
 
 " Died ! " — said the old woman, dropping her pipe, and 
 rising and coming forward upon the floor — " died ! — are 
 you sure of that ? " 
 
 " Troth, am I," said Dinmont, " for it made nae sma* 
 noise in the country-side. He died just at the roup of 
 the stocking and furniture ; it stoppit the roup, and mony 
 folk were disappointed. They said he was the last of ap 
 auld family too, and mony were sorry — for gude blude'> 
 scarcer in Scotland than it has been." 
 
 " Dead ! " replied the old woman, whom our reader" 
 liave already recognised as their acquaintance, Meg Mer* 
 rilies — " dead ! that quits a' scores. And did ye say he 
 died without an heir ? " 
 
 " Ay did he, gudewife, and the estate's sell'd by the 
 same token ; for they said, they couldna have s( ll'd it, if 
 there had been an heir-male." 
 
 " Sell'd ! " echoed the gipsy, with something like a 
 icream ; " and wha durst buy Ellangowan that was not 
 
250 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 of Bertram's blude ? — and wha could tell whether the 
 bonnj knave-bairn may not come back to claim his ain ? 
 — wha durst buy the estate and the castle of EllangCK 
 wan?" 
 
 " Troth, gudewife, just ane o' thae writer chields that 
 buys a' thing — they ca' him Glossin, I think." 
 
 " Glossin ! — Gibbie Glossin ! — that I have carried in 
 my creels a hundred times, for his mother wasna muckle 
 better than mysell — he to presume to buy the barony of 
 Ellangowan ! — Gude be wi' us — it is an awfu' warld ! I 
 wished him ill — but no sic a downfa' as a' that neither : 
 wae's me ! wae's me to think o't ! " — She remained a 
 moment silent, but still opposing with her hand the 
 farmer's retreat, who, betwixt every question, was about 
 to turn his back, but good-humouredly stopped on observ- 
 ing the deep interest his answers appeared to excite. 
 
 " It will be seen and heard of — earth and sea will not 
 hold their peace langer ! — Can ye say if the same man 
 be now the Sheriff of the county that has been sae for 
 some years past ? " 
 
 "Na, he's got some other berth in Edinburgh, they 
 say — but gude day, gudewife, I maun ride." — She fol- 
 lowed him to his horse, and, while he drew the girths of 
 his saddle, adjusted the walise, and put on the bridle, still 
 phed him with questions concerning Mr. Bertram's death, 
 and the fate of his daughter ; on which, however, she 
 could obtain little information from the honest farmer. 
 
 " Did ye ever see a place they ca' Demcleugh, about 
 a mile frae the place of Ellangowan ? " 
 
 " I wot weel have I, gudewife, — a wild-looking den it 
 is. wi' a whin auld wa's o' shealings yonder. I saw it 
 when I gaed ower the ground wi' ane that wanted to take 
 the farm." 
 
GTJY MAOT^EEmG. 251 
 
 " It was a blyth bit ance ! " said Meg, speaking to her- 
 self. " Did ye notice if there was an auld saugh tree 
 that's maist blawn down, but yet its roots are in the 
 earth, and it hangs ower the bit burn ? — mony a day hae 
 I wrought my stocking, and sat on my sunkie under that 
 saugh." 
 
 " Hout, deil's i' the wife, wi' her saughs, and her sun- 
 kies, and Ellangowans. — Godsake, woman, let me away : 
 — there's saxpence t'ye to buy half a mutchkin, instead 
 o' clavering about thae auld warld stories." 
 
 " Thanks to ye, gudeman — and now ye hae answered 
 a' my questions and never speired wherefore I asked 
 them, I'll gie you a bit canny advice, and ye maunna 
 speir what for neither. Tib Mumps will be out wi' the 
 stirrup-dram in a gliffing ; she'll ask ye whether ye gang 
 ower Willie's brae, or through Conscowthart-moss ; — tell 
 her ony ane ye like, but be sure " (speaking low and 
 emphatically) " to tak the ane ye dinna tell her." The 
 farmer laughed and promised, and the gipsy retreated. 
 
 " Will you take her advice ? " said Brown, who had 
 been an attentive hstener to this conversation. 
 
 " That will I no — the randy quean ! Na, I had far 
 rather Tib Mumps kenn'd which way I was gaun than 
 her — though Tib's no muckle to lippen to neither, and I 
 would advise ye on no account to stay in the house a' 
 night." 
 
 In a moment after, Tib, the landlady, appeared with 
 her stirrup-cup, which was taken off. She then, as ]Meg 
 had predicted, inquired whether he went the hill or the 
 moss road. He answered the latter ; and, having bid 
 Brown good-bye, and again told him, " he depended on 
 seeing him at Charlies-hope, the morn at latest," he rode 
 off at a round pace. 
 
252 "WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 Gallows and knock are too powerful on the highway. 
 
 WrxTER's Tale. 
 
 The hint of the hospitable farmer was not lost on 
 Brown. But, while he paid his reckoning, he could not 
 avoid repeatedly fixing his eyes on Meg Merrilies. She 
 was, in all respects, the same witch-like figure as when 
 we first introduced her at EUangowim-Place. Time had 
 grizzled her raven locks, and added wrinkles to her wild 
 features, but her height remained erect, and her activity 
 was unimpaired. It was remarked of this woman, as of 
 others of the same description, that a Hfe of action, though 
 not of labour, gave her the perfect command of her limbs 
 and figure, so that the attitudes into which she most 
 naturally threw herself, were free, unconstrained, and 
 picturesque. At present, she stood by the window of the 
 cottage, her person drawn up so as to show to fuU 
 advantage her mascuhne stature, and her head somewhat 
 thrown back, that the large bonnet, with which her face 
 was shrouded, might not interrupt her steady gaze at 
 Brown. At every gesture he made, and every tone he 
 uttered, she seemed to give an almost imperceptible start. 
 On his part, he was surprised to find that he could not 
 look upon this singular figure without some emotion. 
 " Have I dreamed of such a figure ? " he said to himself, 
 *' or does this wild and singular-looking womitu recall to 
 
GUY MANNERING. 25^ 
 
 toy recollection some of the strange figures I have seen 
 in our Indian pagodas ? " 
 
 While he embarrassed himself with these discussions, 
 and the hostess was engaged in rummaging out silver in 
 change of half-a-guinea, the gipsy suddenly made two 
 strides, and seized Brown's hand. He expected, of 
 course, a display of her skill in palmistry, hut she seemed 
 agitated by other feelings. 
 
 " Tell me,'' she said, " tell me, in the name of God, 
 young man, what is your name, and whence you came ? '* 
 
 " My name is Brown, mother, and I come from the 
 East Indies." 
 
 " From the East Indies ! " dropping his hand with a 
 sigh ; " it cannot be, then — I am such an auld fool, that 
 every thing I look on seems the thing I want maist to 
 see. But the East Indies ! that cannot be.— Weel, be 
 what ye wiU, ye hae a face and a tongue that puts me 
 in mind of auld times. Good-day — make haste on your 
 road, and if ye see ony of our folk, meddle not and make 
 not, and they'll do you nae harm." 
 
 Brown, who had by this time received his change, put 
 a shilling into her hand, bade his hostess farewell, and 
 taking the route which the farmer had gone before, 
 walked briskly on, with the advantage of being guided 
 by the fresh hoof-prints of his horse. Meg Merrilies 
 looked after him for some time, and then muttered to 
 herself, " I maun see that lad again — and I maun gang 
 back to Ellangowan too. The Laird's dead — Aweel, 
 death pays a' scores — he was a kind man ance. — The 
 Sheriff's flitted, and I can keep canny in the bush — so 
 there's no muckle hazard o' scouring the cramp-ring.*—- 
 I would hke to see bonny Ellangowan again or I die." 
 
 * To scour the cramp-ring, is said metaphorically for being tnrown 
 into fetters, or, generally, into prison. 
 
254 "WATEPvLET XOTELS. 
 
 Brown, meanwhile, proceeded northward at a rounj 
 pace along the moorish tract called the Waste of Cum- 
 berland. He passed a sohtary house, towards which the 
 horseman who preceded him had apparently tm-ned up, 
 for his horse's tread was evident in that direction. A 
 Httle farther, he seemed to have returned again into the 
 road. INIr. Dinmont had probably made a visit there 
 either of business or pleasure. — I wish, thought Brown, 
 the good farmer had staid till I came up ; I should not 
 have been sorry to ask him a few questions about the 
 road, which seems to gi'ow ^rtdlder and wilder. 
 
 In truth, nature, as if she had designed this tract of 
 country to be the baiTier between two hostile nations, has 
 stamped upon it a character of wildness and desolation. 
 The hills are neither high nor rocky, but the land is all 
 heath and morass ; the huts poor and mean, and at a 
 great distance from each other. Immediately around 
 them there is generally some little attempt at cultivation ; 
 but a hah-bred foal or two, straggling about with shackles 
 on their hind legs, to save the trouble of enclosures, 
 intimate the fai-mer's chief resource to be the breeding 
 of horses. The people, too, are of a ruder and more 
 inhospitable class than elsewhere to be found in Cumber- 
 land, arising partly from their own habits, partly from 
 their intermixture with vagrants and criminals, who make 
 this wild country a refuge from justice. So much were 
 the men of these districts in early times the objects of 
 Buspicion and dislike to their more poHshed neighbour?, 
 that there was, and perhaps still exists, a by-law of the 
 corporation of Newcastle, prohibiting any freeman of that 
 city to take for apprentice a native of certain of these 
 dales. It is pithily said, " Give a dog an ill name and 
 hang him ; " and it may be added, if you give a man, or 
 
GUY MANNERING. 255 
 
 race of men, an ill name, they are very likely to do some- 
 thing that deserves hanging. Of this Brown had heai'd 
 something, and suspected more, from the discourse between 
 the landlady, Dinmont, and the gipsy ; but he was nat- 
 urally of a fearless disposition, had nothing about liim 
 that could tempt the spoiler, and trusted to get through 
 the Waste with day-light. In this last particular, how- 
 ever, he was likely to be disappointed. The way proved 
 longer than he had anticipated, and the horizon began 
 to grow gloomy, just as he entered upon an extensive 
 morass. 
 
 Choosing his steps with care and dehberation, the young 
 officer proceeded along a path that sometimes sunk between 
 two broken black banks of moss earth, sometimes crossed 
 narrow but deep ravines filled with a consi stence between 
 mud and water, and sometimes along heaps of gravel and 
 stones, which had been swept together when some torrent 
 or water-spout from the neighbouring hills overflowed the 
 marshy ground below. He began to ponder how a horse- 
 man could make his way through such broken gi'ound ; 
 the traces of hoofs, however, were still visible ; he even 
 thought he heard their sound at some distance, and, con- 
 vinced that Mr. Dinmont's progress through the morass 
 must be still slower than his own, he resolved to push 
 on, in hopes to overtake him, and have the benefit of his 
 knowledge of the country. At this moment his little 
 terrier sprung forwai^d, barking most furiously. 
 
 Brown quickened his pace, and, attaining the summit 
 of & small rising ground, saw the subject of the dog's 
 alarm. In a hollow, about a gunshot below him, a man, 
 whom he easily recognised to be Dinmont, was engaged 
 with two others in a desperate struggle. He was dis- 
 taounted, and defending himself as he best could with the 
 
256 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 butt of his heavy whip. Our traveller hastened on to 
 his assistance ; but, ere he could get up, a stroke had 
 levelled the fiirmer with the earth, and one of the robbers, 
 improving his victory, struck him some merciless blows 
 on the head. The other villain, hastening to meet Brown, 
 called to his companion to come along, " for that one's 
 content,'' — meaning, probably, past resistance or complaint. 
 One ruffian was armed with a cutlass, the other with a 
 bludgeon ; but as the road was pretty narrow, " bar fire- 
 arms," thought Brown, " and I may manage them well 
 enough." — They met accordingly, with the most murder- 
 ous threats on the part of the ruffians. They soon found, 
 however, that their new opponent was equally stout and 
 resolute ; and, aft^r exchanging two or three blows, one 
 of them told him to " follow his nose over the heath, in 
 the devil's name, for they had nothing to say to him." 
 
 Brown rejected this composition, as leaving to their 
 mercy the unfortunate man whom they were about to 
 pillage, if not to murder outright ; and the skirmish had 
 just recommenced, when Dinmont unexpectedly recov- 
 ered his senses, his feet, and his weapon, and hasted to 
 the scene of action. As he had been no easy antagonist, 
 even when surprised and alone, the villains did not choose 
 to wait his joining forces with a man who had singly 
 proved a match for them both, but fled across the bog as 
 fast as their feet could carry them, pursued by Wasp, 
 who had acted gloriously during the skirmish, annoying 
 the heels of the enemy, and repeatedly effecting a 
 moment's diversion in his master's favour. 
 
 " Deil, but your dog's weel entered wi' the vermin 
 now, sir ! " were the first words uttered by the jolly 
 farmer, as he came up, his head streaming with blood, 
 and recognised bis deliverer and his Uttle attendant. 
 
GUY MANNERINa. 257 
 
 " I hope, sir, you are not hurt dangerously ? " 
 
 " 0, deil a bit — my head can stand a gay clour — nae 
 thanks to them, though, and mony to you. But now, 
 liinney, ye maun help me to catch the beast, and ye maun 
 get on behind me, for we maun off hke whittrets before 
 the whole clanjamfray be doun upon us — the rest o' them 
 will no be far off." The galloway was, by good fortune, 
 easily caught, and Brown made some apology for over- 
 loading the animal. 
 
 " Deil a fear, man," answered the proprietor ; " Dum- 
 pie could carry six folk, if his back was lang eneugh. 
 But God's sake, haste ye, get on, for I see some folk 
 coming through the slack yonder, that it may be just as 
 weel no to wait for." 
 
 Brown was of opinion that this apparition of five or 
 six men, with whom the other villains seemed to join 
 company, coming across the moss towards them, should 
 abridge ceremony; he therefore mounted Dumple en 
 croupe, and the Httle spirited nag cantered away with 
 two men of great size and strength, as if they had been 
 children of six years old. The rider, to whom the paths 
 of these wilds seemed intimately known, pushed on at a 
 rapid pace, managing, with much dexterity, to choose the 
 safest route, in which he was aided by the sagacity of the 
 galloway, who never failed to take the difficult passes 
 exactly at the particular spot, and in the special manner, 
 by which they could be most safely crossed. Yet, even 
 with these advantages, the road was so broken, and they 
 were so often thrown out of the direct course by various 
 impediments, that they did not gain much upon their 
 pursuers. "Never mmd," said the undaunted Scotch- 
 man to his companion, " if ye were ance by Withershin's 
 
 VOL. in. 17 
 
25lS waverley novels. 
 
 Latch, the road's no near sae saft, and we'll show them 
 fair play for't." 
 
 They soon came to the place he named, a narrow chan. 
 nel, through which soaked, rather than flowed, a small 
 stagnant stream, mantled over with bright green mosses. 
 Dinmont directed his steed towards a pass where the 
 water appeared to flow with more freedom over a harder 
 bottom ; but Dumple backed from the proposed crossing- 
 place, put his head down as if to reconnoitre the swamp 
 more nearly, stretching forwai'd his fore-feet, and slood 
 as fast as if he had been cut out of stone. 
 
 " Had we not better," said Brown, " dismount, and 
 leave him to his fate ? — or can you not urge him through 
 the SA\'amp ? " 
 
 " Na, na," said his pilot, " we maun cross Dumple at 
 no rate — he has mair sense than mony a Christian." So 
 saying, he relaxed the reins, and shook them loosely. 
 " Come now, lad, take your ain way o't — let's see where 
 ye'U take us through." 
 
 Dumple, left to the freedom of his own will, trotted 
 briskly to another pai't of the latch, less promising, as 
 BroT\Ti thought, in appearance, but which the animal's 
 sagacity or experience recommended as the safer of the 
 two, and where, plunging in, he attained the other side 
 with little difficulty. 
 
 "I'm glad we're out o' that moss," said Dinmont, 
 " where there's mair stables for horses than change- 
 houses for men — we have the Maiden-way to help us 
 now, at ony rate." Accordingly, they speedily gained a 
 sort of rugged causeway so called, being the remains of 
 an old Roman road, which traverses these wild regions in 
 a due northerly direction. Here they got on at the rate 
 of nine or ten miles an hour, Dumple seeking no otliei 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 259 
 
 respite tiian what arose from changing his pace from 
 canter to trot. " I could gar him show mair action," said 
 his master, " but we ai^e twa lang-legged chields after a', 
 and it would be a pity to distress Dumple — there wasna 
 the like o' him at Staneshiebank fair the day." 
 
 Brown readily assented to the propriety of sparing the 
 horse, and added, that, as they were now far out of the 
 reach of the rogues, he thought Mr. Dinmont had better 
 tie a handkerchief round his head, for fear of the cold 
 frosty air aggravating the wound. 
 
 " What would I do that for ? " answered the hardy 
 farmer ; " the best way's to let the blood bai^ken upon 
 the cut— that saves plasters, hinney." 
 
 Brown, who in his military profession had seen a great 
 many hard blows pass, could not help remarking, " he 
 ^ad never known such severe strokes received with so 
 much apparent indifference." 
 
 " Hout tout, man — I would never be making a hum- 
 dudgeon about a scart on the pow — but we'll be in Scot- 
 land in five minutes now, and ye maun gang up to 
 Charlies-hope wi' me, that's a clear case." 
 
 Brown readily accepted the offered hospitality. Night 
 was now falHng, when they came in sight of a pretty 
 river winding its way through a pastoral country. The 
 hills were greener and more abrupt than those which 
 Brown had lately passed, sinking their grassy sides at 
 cnce upon the river. They had no pretensions to mag- 
 nificence of height, or to romantic shapes, nor did their 
 •ynooth swelling slopes exhibit either rocks or woods. 
 Yet the view was wild, solitary, and pleasingly rural. 
 No enclosures, no roads, almost no tillage — it seemed a 
 land which a patriarch would have chosen to feed his 
 flocks and herds. The remains of here and there a 
 
260 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 dismantled and ruined tower showed that it had onco 
 harboured beings of a very different description from its 
 present inhabitants ; namely, those freebooters to who£e 
 exploits the wars between England and Scotland bear 
 witness. 
 
 Descending by a path towards a well-known ford, 
 Dumple crossed the small river, and then quickening his 
 pace, trotted about a mile briskly up its banks, and ap- 
 proached two or three low thatched houses, placed with 
 their angles to each other, with a great contempt of regu- 
 larity. This was the farm-steading of Chai'Hes-hope, or, 
 in the language of the country, " the Towti." A most 
 furious barking was set up at their approach, by the 
 whole thret generations of Mustard and Pepper, and a 
 number of allies, names unknown. The farmer made his 
 well-known voice lustily heard to restore order ; the doo^ 
 opened, and a half-dressed ewe-milker, who had done that 
 good oflSice, shut it in their faces, in order that she might 
 run len the house, to cry "Mistress, mistress, it's the 
 master, and another man wi' him." Dumple, turned 
 loose, walked to his own stable-door, and there pawed 
 and whinnied for admission, in strains which were an- 
 swered by his acquaintances from the interior. Amid this 
 bustle. Brown was fain to secure Wasp from the other 
 dogs, who, with ardour corresponding more to their own 
 names than to the hospitable temper of their owner, vere 
 much disposed to use the intruder roughly. 
 
 In about a minute a stout labourer was patting Dumple, 
 and introducing him into the stable, while Mrs. Dinmont, 
 a weU-favoured buxom dame, welcomed her husband witli 
 unfeigned rapture. " Eh, sirs ! gudeman, ye hae been a 
 weary while away." * 
 
 * The author may here remark, that the character of Dandie Dio- 
 
GUT MANNERING. 261 
 
 mont was drawn from no individual. A dozen, at least, of stout 
 Liddesdale yeomen with whom he has been acquainted, and whose 
 hospitality he has shared in his rambles through that wild countiy, at 
 a time when it was totally inaccessible, save in the manner described 
 in tt»e text, might lay claim to be the prototype of the rough, but 
 faithful, hospitable, and generous farmer. But one circumstance 
 occasioned the name to be fixed upon a most respectable individual 
 of this class, now no more. JVIr. James Davidson of Hiadlee, a tenant 
 of Lord Douglas, besides the points of blunt honesty, personal strength, 
 aad hardihood, designed to be expressed in the character of Dandie 
 Dinmont, had the humour of naming a celebrated race of teiTiers 
 which he possessed, by the generic names of Mustard and Pepper, 
 (according as their colour Avas yellow or greyish-black,) without any 
 other individual distinction, except as according to the nomenclature 
 in the text. Mr. Davidson resided at Hindlee, a wild farm on the 
 very edge of the Teviotdale moixntains, and bordering close on Liddes- 
 dale, where the rivers and brooks divide as they take their course to 
 the Eastern or Western seas. His passion for the chase, in all ifci 
 forms, but especially for fox-hunting, as followed in the fashion de- 
 scribed in the next chapter, in conducting which he was skilful beyond 
 most men in the South Highlands, was the distinguishing point in his 
 character. 
 
 When the tale on which these comments are written became rather 
 popular, the name of Dandie Dinmont was generally given to him, 
 which ^Ir. Davidson received with great good humour, — only saying, 
 while he distmguished the author by the name applied to him in the 
 country, where his own is so common — " that the Sheriff had not 
 written about him mair than about other folk, but only about his 
 dogs." An English lady of high rank and fashion, being deskous to 
 possess a brace of the celebrated Mustard and Pepper terriers, ex- 
 pressed her wishes in a letter, which was literally addressed to Dandie 
 Dinmont, under which very general direction it reached Mr. David- 
 son, who was justly proud of the application, and failed not to comply 
 with a request which did him and his favourite attendants so much 
 honour. 
 
 I trust I shall not be considered as offending the memory of a kind 
 and worthy man, if I mention a little trait of character which oc- 
 curred in Mr. Davidson's last illness. I use the words of the excellent 
 clergyman who attended him, who gave the account to a reverend 
 gentleman of the same persuasion: — 
 
 " I read to Mr. Davidson the very suitable and interesting truths 
 fou addressed to him. He listened to them with great seriousness, 
 and has uniformly displayed a deep conceirri about his soul's salvation. 
 
262 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 He died on the first Sabbath of the year (1820); an apoplectic stroke 
 deprived' him in an instant of all sensation, but happily his brother 
 was at his bed-side, for he had detained him from the meeting-house 
 that day to be near him, although he felt himself not much worse than 
 usual. — So you have got the last little LIustard that the hand of 
 Dandie Dinmont bestowed. 
 
 " His niling passion was strong even on the eve of death. Iklr. 
 BaiUie's fox-hounds had started a fox opposite to his window a few 
 •weeks ago, and as soon as he heard the sound of the dogs his eyes 
 glistened; he insisted on getting out of bed, and with much difficulty 
 got to the window, and there enjoyed the fun, as he called it. When 
 I came down to ask for him, he said, ' he had seen Kejniard, but 
 had not seen his death. If it had been the will of Providence,' he 
 added, ' I would have liked to have been after him ; — ^but I am glad 
 that I got to the window, and am thankful for what I saw, for it has 
 done me a great deal of good.' Notwithstanding these eccentricities," 
 ad Js the sensible and liberal clergjonan, " I sincerely hope and believe 
 he has gone to a better world, and better company and enjoyments." 
 
 If some part of this little narrative may excite a smile, it is one 
 which is consistent with the most perfect respect for the simple- 
 minded invalid, and his kind and judicious religious instructor, who, 
 we hope, will not be displeased with our giving, we trust, a correct 
 edition of an anecdote which has been pretty generally circulated. 
 The race of Pepper and Mustard are in the highest estimation at this 
 day, not only for vermin-killing, but for intelligence and fidelity. 
 Those who, like the author, possess a brace of them, consider them tis 
 very desirable compamons. 
 
riTTT MANNF.UTNO. 263 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 LiddeU till now, except in Doric lays, 
 Tuned to her murmurs by her lOTe-sick swains, 
 Unknown in song — though not a purer stream 
 Rolls towards the western main. 
 
 Art op PRESERVTNa Health. 
 
 The present store-farmers of the south of Scotland ar 
 a much more refined race than their fathers, and th» 
 manners I am now to describe have either altogethei 
 disappeared, or are greatly modified. Without losing 
 the rural simplicity of manners, they now cultivate arts 
 unknown to the former generation, not only in the pro- 
 gressive improvement of their possessions, but in aU the 
 comforts of life. Their houses are more commodious, 
 their habits of life regulated so as better to keep pace 
 with those of the civilized world ; and the best of luxuries, 
 the luxury of knowledge, has gained much ground among 
 their hills during the last thii'ty years. Deep drinking, 
 formerly their greatest failing, is now fast losing ground ; 
 and, while the frankness of their extensive hospitality 
 continues the same, it is, generally speaking, refined in its 
 character, aild restrained in its excesses. 
 
 " Deil's in the wife," said Dandie Dinmont, shaking 
 off his spouse's embrace, but gently and with a look of 
 great affection ; " deil's in ye, Ailie — d'ye no see the 
 Btrange gentleman ? " 
 
 AiHe turned to make her apology — " Troth, I was sae 
 
264 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 weel pleased to see the gudeman, that But, gnde 
 
 gracious ! what's the matter wi' ye baith ? " — for they 
 were now in her little parlour, and the candle showed the 
 streaks of blood which Dinmont's wounded head had 
 plentifully imparted to the clothes of his companion as 
 well as to his own. " YeVe been fighting again. Dandy, 
 wi' some o' the Bewcastle horse-coupers ! Wow, man, a 
 married man, wi' a bonny family like yours, should ken 
 better what a father's life's worth in the warld." — The 
 tears stood in the good woman's eyes as she spoke. 
 
 " "SMiisht ! whisht, gudewife ! " said her husband, with 
 a smack that had much more affection than ceremony in 
 it ; — " never mind — never mind — there's a gentleman that 
 will tell you, that just when I had ga'en up to Lourie 
 Lowther's, and had bidden the drinking of twa cheerers, 
 and gotten just in again upon the moss, and was whigging 
 cannily awa hame, twa land-loupers jumpit out of a peat- 
 hag on me or I was thinking, and got me down, and 
 knevelled me sair aneuch, or I could gar my whip walk 
 about their lugs ; — and troth, gudewife, if this honest 
 gentleman hadna come up, I would have gotten ma'r 
 licks than I like, and lost mair siller than I could weel 
 spare ; so ye maun be thankful to him for it, under God." 
 With that he drew from his side-pocket a large greasy 
 leather pocket-book, and bade the gudewife lock it up in 
 her kist. 
 
 " God bless the gentleman, and e'en God bless him wi' 
 a' my heart ! But what can we do for hinr, but to gie 
 him the meat and quarters we wadna refuse to the poor- 
 est body on earth — unless " (her eye directed to the 
 pocket-book, but with a feeling of natural propriety which 
 made the inference the most delicate possible) " unless 
 there was ony other way " Brown saw, and estimated 
 
GUT MANNERING. 265 
 
 at its due rate, the mixture of simplicity and grateful 
 generosity which took the downright way of expressing 
 itself, yet qualified with so much delicacy. He was aware 
 his own appearance, plain at best, and now torn and spat- 
 tered with blood, made him an object of pity at least, and 
 perhaps of charity. He hastened to say his name was 
 Brf>wn, a captain in the regiment of cavalry, travel- 
 ing for pleasure, and on foot, both from motives of inde- 
 pendence and economy ; and he begged his kind landlady 
 would look at her husband's wounds, the state of which 
 be had refused to permit him to examine. Mrs. Dinmont 
 was used to her husband's broken heads more than to the 
 presence of a captain of dragoons. She therefore glanced 
 at a table-cloth, not quite clean, and conned over her pro- 
 posed supper a minute or two, before, patting her husband 
 on the shoulder, she bade him sit down for "a hard- 
 headed loon, that was aye bringing hhnsell and other folk 
 into collie-shangies." 
 
 When Dandie Dinmont, after executing two or three 
 caprioles, and cutting the Highland-fling, by way of 
 ridicule of his wife's anxiety, at last deigned to sit down, 
 and commit his round, black, shaggy bullet of a head to 
 her inspection. Brown thought he had seen the regi- 
 mcjntal surgeon look grave upon a more trifling case. 
 The gudewife, however, showed some knowledge of chi- 
 rurgcry — she cut away with her scissors the gory locks, 
 whose stiilened and coagulated clusters interfered with 
 her operations, and clapped on the wound some lint be- 
 smeared with a vulnerary salve, esteemed sovereign by 
 the whole dale (which afforded upon Fair nights con- 
 siderable experience of such cases) — she then fixed her 
 plaster with a bandage, and, spite of her patient's resist- 
 ance, pulled over all a night-cap, to keep every thing 
 
266 AVAVERLEY NOYELS. 
 
 in its right place. Some contusions on the brow and 
 shoulders she fomented with brandj, which the patient 
 did not permit till the medicine had paid a heavy toll to 
 his mouth. Mrs. Dinmont then simply, but kindly 
 offered her assistance to Brown. 
 
 He assured her he had no occasion for any thing bi>* 
 the accommodation of a basin and towel. 
 
 "And that's what I should have thought of sooner/' 
 slie said; "and I did think o't, but I durst na open th.* 
 door, for there's a' the bairns, poor things, sae keen U" 
 see their father." 
 
 This explained a great drumming and whining at the 
 door of the little parlour, which had somewhat surprisec* 
 Bro^^ii, though his kind landlady had only noticed it by 
 fastening the bolt as soon as she heard it begin. But or 
 her opening the door to seek the basin and towel, (for 
 she never thought of shoAving the guest to a separate 
 room,) a whole tide of white-headed urchins streamed 
 in, some from the stable, where they had been seeing 
 Dumple, and giving him a welcome home with part of 
 their four-hours scones ; others from the kitchen, whero 
 they had been hstening to old Elspeth's tales and ballads . 
 and the youngest, half-naked, out of bed, — all roaidng tc 
 see daddy, and to inquire what he had brought home for 
 them from the various fairs he had visited in his pere- 
 grinations. Our knight of the broken head first kissed 
 and hugged them all round, then distributed whistles 
 penny-trumpets, and gingerbrea(^ ; and lastly, when the 
 tumult of their joy and welcome got beyond bearings 
 exclaimed to his guest — " This is a' the gudewife's fault, 
 Captain — she will gie the bairns a' their ain way." 
 
 " Me ! Lord help me ! " said AiHe, who at that instam 
 entered with the basin and ewer, " how can I help it ?-^ 
 I have naething else to gie them, poor things ! " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 267 
 
 Dinmont then exerted liimself, and, between coaxing, 
 threats, and shoving, cleared the room of all the intruders, 
 excepting a boy and girl, the two eldest of the family, 
 who could, as he observed, behave themselves " dis- 
 tinctly." For the same reason, but with less ceremonyj, 
 all the dogs were kicked out, excepting the venerable 
 patriarchs, old Pepper and Mustard, whom frequent 
 castigation and the advance of years had inspired with 
 such a share of passive hospitality, that, after mutual 
 explanation and remonstrance in the shape of some 
 growUng, they admitted Wasp, w^ho had hitherto judged 
 it safe to keep beneath his master's chair, to a share 
 of a dried wedder's skin, which, with the wool upper- 
 most and unshorn, served all the purposes of a Bristol 
 hearth-rug. 
 
 The active bustle of the mistress (so she was called in 
 the kitchen, and the gudewife in the parlour) had all*eady 
 signed the fate of a couple of fowls, which, for want of 
 time to dress them otherwise, soon appeared reeking from 
 the gridu'on — or brander, as Mrs. Dinmont denominated 
 it. A huge piece of cold beef-ham, eggs, butter, cakes, 
 and barley-meal bannocks in plenty, made up the enter- 
 tainment, which was to be diluted with home-brewed ale 
 of excellent quality, and a case-bottle of brandy. Few 
 soldiers would find fault with such cheer after a day's 
 hard exercise, and a skirmish to boot ; accordingly Brown 
 did great honour to the eatables. While the gudewife 
 partly aided, partly instructed, a great stout servant girl, 
 with cheeks as red as her top-knot, to remove the supper 
 matters, and supply sugar and hot water, (which, in the 
 damsel's anxiety to gaze upon an actual live captain, she 
 was in some danger of forgetting,) Brown took an oppor- 
 tunity to ask his host whether he did not repent of having 
 neglected the gipsy's hint. 
 
268 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Wha kens ? " answered he ; " they're queer deevils ; 
 ■ — may be I might just have 'scaped ae gang to meet the 
 other. And yet I'll no say that neither ; for if that 
 randy wife was coming to Charlies-hope, she should have 
 a pint bottle o' brandy and a pound o' tobacco to wear 
 l:3r through the winter. They're queer deevils ; as my 
 auld father used to say — they're warst where they're 
 warst guided. After a', there's baith gude and ill about 
 the gipsies." 
 
 This, and some other desultory conversation, served as 
 a " shoeing-horn " to draw on another cup of ale, and 
 another cheerer, as Dinmont termed it in his country 
 phrase, of brandy and water. Brown then resolutely 
 declined all further conviviality for that evening, pleading 
 his own weariness and the effects of the skirmish, — > 
 being well aware that it would have availed nothing to 
 have remonstrated with his host on the danger that 
 excess might have occasioned to his own raw wound 
 and bloody coxcomb. A very small bed-room, but a 
 very clean bed, received the traveller, and the sheets 
 made good the courteous vaunt of the hostess, " that they 
 would be as pleasant as he could find ony gate, for they 
 were washed wi' the fairy-well water, and bleached on 
 the bonny white gowans, and bittled by Nelly and her- 
 sell ; and what could woman, if she was a queen, do mair 
 for them?" 
 
 They indeed rivalled snow in whiteness, and had, be- 
 sides, a pleasant fragrance from the manner in which they 
 had been bleached. Little Wasp, after Hcking his mas- 
 ter's hand to ask leave, couched himself on the coverlet at 
 his feet ; and the traveller's senses were soon lost in 
 grateful oblivion. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 269 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Give, ye Britons, then, 
 
 Ycur sportive fury, pitiless, to pour 
 
 Loose on the nightly robber of the fold. 
 
 Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearthed, 
 
 Let all the thunder of the chase pursue. 
 
 Thomson's Seasons. 
 
 Brown rose early in the morning, and walked out to 
 look at the establishment of his new friend. All was 
 rough and neglected in the neighbourhood of the house ; 
 a paltry garden, no pains taken to make the vicinity dry 
 or comfortable, and a total absence of all those little neat- 
 nesses which give the eye so much pleasure in looking at 
 an English farm-house. There were, notwithstanding, 
 evident signs that this arose only from want of taste, or 
 ignorance, not from poverty, or the negligence which at- 
 tends it. On the contrary, a noble cow-house, well filled 
 with good milk-cows, a feeding house, with ten bullocks 
 of the most approved breed, a stable with two good teams 
 of horses, the appearance of domestics, active, industrious, 
 and apparently contented with their lot ; in a word, an 
 air of hberal though sluttish plenty indicated the wealthy 
 farmer. The situation of the house above the river 
 formed a gentle declivity, which relieved the inhabitants 
 of the nuisances that might otherwise have stagnated 
 around it. At a Httle distance was the whole band of 
 children, playing and building houses with peats around 
 
270 WAVEKLET NOYELS. 
 
 a huge doddered oak-tree, which was called CharlieV 
 Bush, from some tradition respecting an old freebooter 
 who had once inhabited the spot. Between the farm- 
 house and the hiU-pasture was a deep morass, termed in 
 that country a slack : it had once been the defence of a 
 fortahce, of which no vestiges now remained, but which 
 was said to have been inhabited by the same doughty 
 hero we have now alluded to. Brown endeavoured to 
 make some acquaintance with the children ; but " tlie 
 rogues fled from him like quicksilver," though the two 
 eldest stood peeping when they had got to some distance. 
 The traveller then turned his coui'se towards the hiU 
 crossing the foresaid swamp by a range of stepping- 
 stones, neither the broadest nor steadiest that could be 
 imagined. He had not cUmbed far up the hill when he 
 met a man descending. 
 
 He soon recognised his worthy host, though a maud, 
 as it is called, or a grey shepherd's-plaid, supplied his 
 travelling jockey-coat, and a cap, faced with wild-cat's 
 fur, more commodiously covered his bandaged head than 
 a hat would have done. As he appeared through the 
 morning mist, Brown, accustomed to judge of men by 
 their thews and sinews, could not help admiring his 
 height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the steady 
 firmness of his step. Dinmont internally paid the same 
 comphment to Brown, whose athletic form he now 
 perused somewhat more at leisure than he had done 
 formerly. After the usual greetings of the morning, the 
 guest inquired whether his host found any inconvenient 
 consequences from the last night's affray. 
 
 "I had maist forgotten't," said the hardy Borderer i 
 "but I think this morning, now that I am fresh and 
 sober, if you and I were at the Withershin's Latch, wi' 
 
GUY MANNERING. 271 
 
 iSkv ane a gude oak souple in his hand, we wadna turn 
 bac\^ no /or half a dizzen o' yon scaff-raif." 
 
 " }^ixi are you prudent, my good sir," said Brown, " not 
 to tak« an hour or two's repose after receiving such 
 severe c<intasions : " 
 
 "Confusions!" replied the farmer, laughmg in deri- 
 sion ; — " Lord, Captain, naething confuses my head. — I 
 ance jumped up and laid the dogs on the fox after I had 
 tumbled from the tap o' Chi'istenbury Craig, and that 
 might have confused me to purpose. Na — naething con- 
 fuses me, unless it be a screed o' drink at an orra time. 
 Besides, I behooved to be round the hirsel this morning, 
 .and see how the herds were coming on — they're apt to 
 be negligent wi' their foot-balls, and fau-s, and trysts, 
 when ane's away. And there I met wi' Tam o' Todshaw, 
 and a wheen o' the rest o' the billies on the water side ; 
 they're a' for a fox-hunt this morning — ye'U gang ? I'll 
 gie ye Dumple, and take the brood mare mysell." 
 
 " But I fear I must leave you this morning, ]Mr. Din- 
 mont," replied Brown. 
 
 " The fient a bit o' that," exclaimed the Borderer, — 
 " I'll no part wi' ye at ony rate for a fortnight mair. — 
 Na, na ; we dinna meet sic friends as you on a Bewcastle 
 moss every night." 
 
 Brown had not designed his journey should be a speedy 
 one ; he therefore readily compounded with this hearty 
 invitation, by agreeing to pass a week at Charlies-hope. 
 
 On their return to the house, where the good-wife pre- 
 sided over an ample breakfast, she heard news of the 
 proposed fox-hunt, not indeed with approbation, but with- 
 out alarm or surprise. " Dand ! ye're the auld man yet ; 
 naething will make ye take warning till ye're bro aght 
 hame some day wi' your feet foremost." 
 
273 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Tut, lass ! ** answered Dandie, " ye ken yourscll 1 
 am never a prin the waur o' my rambles." 
 
 So saying, he exhoiled Brown to be hasty in despatch- 
 ing his breakfast, as, "• the frost having given way, tho 
 scent would lie this morning primely." 
 
 Out they sallied accordingly for Otterscopes^aurs, the 
 farmer leading the way. They soon quitted the little 
 valley, and involved themselves among hills as steep as 
 they could be without being precipitous. The sides often 
 presented guUies, down which, in the winter season, or 
 after heavy rain, the torrents descended with great fury. 
 Some dappled mists still floated along the peaks of the 
 hills, the remains of the morning clouds, for the frost had 
 broken up with a smart shower. Through these fleecy 
 screens were seen a hundred httle temporary streamlets 
 or rills, descending the sides of the mountains like silver 
 threads. By small sheep-tracks along these steeps, over 
 which Dinmont trotted with the most fearless confidence, 
 they at length drew near the scene of sport, and began to 
 see other men, both on horse and foot, making toward 
 the place of rendezvous. Brown was puzzhng himself to 
 conceive how a fox-chase could take place among hills 
 where it was barely possible for a pony, accustomed to 
 the ground, to trot along, but where, quitting the track 
 for half a yard's breadth, the rider might be either bogged, 
 or precipitated down the bank. This wonder was not 
 diminished when he came to the place of action. 
 
 They had gradually ascended very high, and now found 
 themselves on a mountain ridge overhanging a glen of 
 great depth, but extremely narrow. Here the sportsmen 
 had collected, with an apparatus which would have shocked 
 a member of the Pychely Hunt ; for, the object being 
 the removal of a noxious and destructive animal, as well 
 
GUT MANNERINa. . 273 
 
 as the pleasures of the chase, poor Reynard was allowed 
 much less fair play than when pursued in form through 
 an open country. The strength of his habitation, how- 
 ever, and the nature of the ground by which it was sur- 
 rounded on all sides, supplied what was wanting in the 
 courtesy of his pursuers. The sides of the glen were 
 broken banks of earth, and rocks of rotten stone, which 
 sunk sheer down to the little winding stream below, 
 affording here and there a tuft of scathed brush-wood, or 
 a patch of furze. Along the edges of this ravine, which, 
 as we have said, was very narrow, but of profound depth, 
 the hunters on horse and foot ranged themselves ; almost 
 every farmer had with him at least a brace of large and 
 fierce greyhounds, of the race of those deer-dogs which 
 were formerly used in that country, but greatly lessened 
 in size from being crossed with the common breed. The 
 huntsman, a sort of provincial ofiicer of the district, who 
 receives a certain supply of meal, and a reward for every 
 fox he destroys, was already at the bottom of the dell, 
 whose echoes thundered to the chiding of two or three 
 brace of fox-hounds. Terriers, including the whole gen- 
 eration of Pepper and Mustard, were also in attendance, 
 having been sent forward under the care of a shepherd. 
 Mongrel, whelp, and cur of low degree, filled up th^ 
 burden of the chorus. The spectators on the brink of 
 \he ra'v Lie, or glen, held their greyhounds in leash, w 
 readiness to slip them at the fox, as soon as the activity 
 of the party below should force him to abandon his 
 cover. 
 
 The scene, though uncouth to the eye of a professed 
 sportsman, had something in it wildly captivating. The 
 shifting figures on the mountain ridge, having the sky for 
 their background, appeared to move in the air. The 
 
 VOL. III. 18 
 
274 TVAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 dogs, impatient of their restraint, and maddened witli *'Ae 
 baying beneath, sprung here and there, and strained at 
 the slips which prevented them from joining their com- 
 panions. Looking down, the view was equally striking 
 The thin mists were not totally dispersed in the glen, sc 
 that it was often through their gauzy medium that the 
 eye strove to discover the motions of the hunters below. 
 Sometimes a breath of wind made the scene visilrle, the 
 blue rill ghttering as it twined itself through its rude and 
 solitary dell. They then could see the shepherds spring- 
 ing with fearless activity from one dangerous point to 
 another, and cheering the dogs on the scent — the whole 
 60 diminished by depth and distance, that they looked 
 like pigmies. Again the mists close over them, and the 
 only signs of their continued exertions are the halloos of 
 the men, and the clamours of the hounds, ascending as it 
 were out of the bowels of the earth. When the fox, 
 thus persecuted from one stronghold to another, was at 
 length obliged to abandon his valley, and to break away 
 for a more distant retreat, those who watched his motions 
 from the top slipped their greyhounds, which, 2xcelling 
 the fox in swiftness, and equalling him in ferocity and 
 spirit, soon brought the plunderer to his life's end. 
 
 In this way, without any attention to the ordinary rules 
 and decorums of sport, but apparently as much to the 
 gratification both of bipeds and quadrupeds as if all due 
 ritual had been followed, four foxes were killed on this 
 active morning ; and even Brown himself, though he had 
 seen the princely sports of India, and ridden a-tiger-hunt- 
 ing upon an elephant with the Nabob of Ai'cot, professed 
 to have received an excellent morning's amusement. 
 When the sport was given up for the day, most of the 
 sportsm(m, according to the estabhshed hospitahty of the 
 country, went to dine at Chai'hes-hope. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 275 
 
 During their return homeward, Brown rode for a short 
 time beside the huntsman, and asked him some quet-tions 
 concerning the mode in which he exercised his profes- 
 sion. The man showed an unwilUngness to meet his eye, 
 and a disposition to be rid of his company and conversa- 
 tion, for which Brown could not easily account. He was 
 a thin, dark, active fellow, well framed for the hardy pro- 
 fession which he exercised. But his face had not the 
 frankness of the jolly hunter ; he was downlooked, em- 
 barrassed, and avoided the eyes of those who looked hard 
 at him. After some unimportant observations on the 
 success of the day. Brown gave him a trifling gratuity, 
 and rode on with his landlord. They found the gudewife 
 prepared for their reception ; the fold and the poultry- 
 yard furnished the entertainment, and the kind and hearty 
 welcome made amends for all deficiencies in elegance and 
 fashion. 
 
276 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The Elliots and Armstrongs did convene ; 
 They were a gallant company ! 
 
 Ballad of Johnnie Armstkono. 
 
 Without noticing the occupations of an intervening 
 day or two, which, as they consisted of the ordinary sylvan 
 amusements of shooting and coursing, have nothing suf- 
 ficiently interesting to detain the reader, we pass to one 
 in some degree peculiar to Scotland, which may be called 
 a sort of salmon-hunting. This chase, in which the fish 
 is pursued and struck with barbed spears, or a sort of 
 long shafted trident, called a waster,* is much practised 
 at the mouth of the Esk, and in the other salmon rivers 
 of Scotland. The sport is followed by day and night, 
 but most commonly in the latter, when the fish are dis- 
 covered by means of torches, or fire-grates, filled with 
 blazing fragments of tar-barrels, which shed a strong 
 though partial light upon the water. On the present 
 occasion, the principal party were embarked in a crary 
 boat upon a part of the river which was .enlarged and 
 deepened by the restraint of a mill-wear, while others, 
 like the ancient Bacchanals in their gambols, ran along 
 the banks, brandishing their torches and spearss and 
 
 * Or leister. The long spear is used for striking; but there is a 
 shorter, which is cast from the hand, and with which an e?i pe. ienced 
 sportsman hits the fish with singular dexterity. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 277 
 
 pursuing the salmon, some of which endeavoured to 
 escape up the stream, while others, shrouding themselves 
 under roots of trees, fragments of stones, and large rocks, 
 attempted to conceal themselves from the researches of 
 the fishermen. These the party in the boat detected by 
 the slightest indications ; the twinkling of a fin, the rising 
 of an air-bell, was sufficient to point out to these adroit 
 sportsmen in what direction to use their weapon. 
 
 The scene was inexpressibly animating to these ac- 
 customed to it ; but as Brown was not practised to use 
 the spear, he soon tired of making efforts which were 
 attended with no other consequences than jarring his 
 arms against the rocks at the bottom of the river, upon 
 which, instead of the devoted salmon, he often bestowed 
 his blow. Nor did he relish, though he concealed feel- 
 ings which would not have been understood, being quite 
 so near the agonies of the expiring salmon, as they lay 
 flapping about in the boat, which they moistened with 
 their blood. He therefore requested to be put ashore, 
 and, from the top of a heugh, or broken bank, enjoyed 
 the scene much more to his satisfaction. Often he 
 thought of his friend Dudley, the artist, when he ob- 
 served the effect produced by the strong red glare on the 
 romantic banks under which the boat glided. Now the 
 light diminished to a distant star that seemed to twinkle 
 on the waters, like those which, according to the legends 
 of the country, the water-kelpy sends for the purpose of 
 indicating the watery grave of his victims. Then it 
 advanced nearer, brightening and enlarging as it again 
 approached, till the broad flickering flame rendered bank, 
 and rock, and tree, visible as it passed, tinging them with 
 its own red glare of dusky light, and resigning them 
 gradually to darkness, or to pale moonlight, as it receded. 
 
278 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 By this light also were seen the figures in the boat, no"W 
 holding high their Aveapons, now stooping to strike, now 
 standing upright, bronzed, by the same red glai-e, into a 
 colour which might have befitted the regions of Pande* 
 monium. 
 
 Having amused himself for some time with these effects 
 of light and shadow, Brown strolled homewards towai^ds 
 the farmhouse, gazing in his way at the persons engaged 
 in the sport, two or three of whom are generally kept 
 together, one holding the torch, the others with their 
 spears, ready to avail themselves of the light it affords to 
 strike their prey. As he observed one man struggling 
 with a very weighty salmon which he had speared, but 
 was unable completely to raise from the water, Brown 
 advanced close to the bank to see the issue of his exer- 
 tions. The man who held the torch in this instance was 
 the huntsman, whose sulky demeanour Brown had already 
 noticed with surprise. 
 
 " Come here, sir ! come here, sir ! look at this ane ! 
 He tm-ns up a side hke a sow." Such was the cry from 
 the assistants when some of them observed Brown ad- 
 vancing. 
 
 " Ground the waster weel, man ! ground the waster 
 weel ! — hand him down — ye haena the pith o' a cat ! "— 
 were the cries of advice, encouragement, and expostula- 
 tion, from those who were on the bank, to the sportsman 
 engaged with the salmon, who stood up to his middle in 
 water, jinghng among broken ice, struggling against the 
 force of the fish and the strength of the current, and 
 dubious in what manner he should attempt to secure his 
 booty. As BroAvn came to the edge of the bank, he 
 called out — " Hold up your torch, friend huntsman ! " for 
 he had ah-eady distinguished his dusky features by the 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 270 
 
 strong light cast upon them by the blaze. But the fellow 
 no sooner heard his voice, and saw, or rather concluded, 
 it was Brown who approached him, than, instead of ad- 
 vancing his light, he let it drop, as if accidentally, into 
 the water. 
 
 " The deil's in Gabriel ! " said the spearman, as the 
 fragments of glowing wood floated half-blazing, half- 
 sparkling, but soon extinguished, down the stream — " the 
 deil's in the man ! — I'll never master him without the 
 light — and a braver kipper, could I but land him, never 
 reisted abune a pair o' cleeks." * Some dashed into the 
 water to lend their assistance, and the fish, which was 
 afterwards found to weigh nearly thirty pounds, was 
 landed in safety. 
 
 The behaviour of the huntsman struck BroAvn, although 
 he had no recollection of his face, nor could conceive why 
 he should, as it appeared he evidently did, shun his 
 observation. Could it be one of the footpads he had 
 encountered a few days before ? The supposition was 
 not altogether improbable, although unwarranted by any 
 observation he was able to make upon the man's figure 
 and face. To be sure, the villains wore their hats much 
 slouched, and had loose coats, and their size wa» not in 
 any way so pecuUarly discriminated as to enable him to 
 resort to that criterion. He resolved to speak to his host 
 
 * The cleek here intimated is the iron hook, or hooks, depending 
 from the cliimney of a Scottish cottage, on which the pot is suspended 
 frhen boiling. The same appendage is often called the crook. The 
 ealmon is usually dried by hanging it up, after being split and nibbed 
 with salt, in the smoke of the turf fire above the cleeks, where it is 
 «aid to reist^ that preparation being so teraied. The salmon, thus pre- 
 served, is eaten as a delicacy, under the name of kipper, a luxury to 
 which Dr. Redgill has given his sanction as an ingredient of the Scot- 
 Ish breakfast. See the excellent novel entitled " Marriage." 
 
280 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Dinmout on the subject, but for obvious reasons concluded 
 it were best to defer the explanation until a cool hour in 
 the morning. 
 
 . The sportsmen returned loaded with fish, upwards of 
 one hundred salmon having been killed within the range 
 of their sport. The best were selected for the use of th€ 
 principal farmers, the others divided among their sliep- 
 herds, cottars, dependents, and others of inferior rank 
 who attended. These fish, dried in the turf smoke of 
 their cabins, or shealings, formed a savoury addition to the 
 mess of potatoes, mixed with onions, which was the prin- 
 cipal part of their winter food. In the meanwhile, a 
 hberal distribution of ale and whisky was made among 
 them, besides what was called a" kettle of fish, — two or 
 three salmon, namely, plunged into a cauldron, and boiled 
 for their supper. Brown accompanied his jolly landlord 
 and the rest of his friends into the large and smoky 
 kitchen, where this savoury mess reeked on an oaken 
 table, massive enough to have dined Johnnie Armstrong 
 and his merry-men. All was hearty cheer and huzza, 
 and jest and clamorous laughter, and bragging alter- 
 nately, and raillery between whiles. Our traveller looked 
 earnestly around for the dark countenance of the fox- 
 hunter ; but it was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 At length he hazarded a question concerning him. 
 " That was an awkward accident, my lads, of one of you, 
 who di'opped his torch in the water when his companion 
 was struo^o-lino- with the larg-e fish." 
 
 " Awkward ! " returned a shepherd, looking up, (th^ 
 
 same stout young fellow who had speared the salmon,) 
 
 *' he deserved his paiks for't — to put out the light when 
 
 the fish was on ane's witters ! * — I'm weel convinced 
 
 * The barbs of the spear. 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 281 
 
 Gabriel drapped the roughies * in the water on purpose 
 ■ — he docsna like to see onjbodj do a thing better than 
 himsell." 
 
 " Ay," said another, " he's sair shamed o' himsell, else 
 he would have been up here the night — Gabriel lik(is a 
 little o' the gude thing as weel as ony o' us." 
 
 " Is he of this country ? " said Brown. 
 
 " Na, na, he's been but shortly in office ; but he's a fell 
 hunter — he's frae down the country, some gate on the 
 Dumfries side." 
 
 " And what's his name, pray ? " 
 
 « Gabriel." 
 
 "But Gabriel what?" 
 
 " Oh, Lord kens that ; we dinna mind folks after-names 
 muckle here, they run sae muckle into clans." 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said an old shepherd, rising and speak- 
 ing very slow, " the folks hereabout are a' Armstrongs 
 and ElliotSjt and sic like — twa or three given names — ■ 
 
 * When diy splinters, or branches, are used as fuel to supply the 
 light for burning the water, as it is called, they are termed, as in the 
 text, Koughies. When rags, dipped in tar, are employed, they are 
 called Hards, probably from the French. 
 
 t The distinction of individuals by nicknames, when they possess 
 no property, is still common on the Border, and indeed necessary, from 
 the number of persons having the same name. In the small village of 
 Lustruther, in Roxburghshire, there dwelt, in the memory of man, four 
 inhabitants, called Andrew, or Dan die Oliver. They were distin- 
 guished as Dandie Eassil-gate, Dandie Wassil-gate, Dandie Thumbie, 
 and Dandie Durable. The first two had their names from living east- 
 ward and westward in the street of the village ; the third from some- 
 thing peculiar in the conformation of his thumb ; the fourth from his 
 taciturn habits. 
 
 It is told as a well-known jest, that a beggar woman repulsed from 
 door to door as she solicited quarters through a village of Annandale, 
 asked in her despair, if there were no Christians in the place. To 
 which the hearers, concluding that she inquired for some persons so 
 sumamed, answered, " Na, na, there are nae Christians here ; we are 
 »' Johnstones and Jardines." 
 
282 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 and so, for dis taction's sake, the lairds and farmers have 
 the names of their places that they hve at — as for exam- 
 ple. Tarn o' Todshaw, Will o' the Flat, Hobbie o' Sorbie- 
 trees, and our good master here, o' the Charlies-hope.— 
 Aweel, sir, and then the inferior soi't o' people, ye'll ob- 
 serve, are kend by sorts o' by-names some o' then , as 
 Glaiket Christie, and the Deuke's Davie, or maybe, like 
 this lad Gabriel, by his employment ; as for example, 
 Tod Gabbie, or Hunter Gabble. He's no been lang here, 
 sir, and I dinna think onybody kens him by ony other 
 name. But it's no right to rin him doun ahint his back, 
 for he's a fell fox-hunter, though he's maybe no just sae 
 clever as some o' the folk hereawa wi' the waster." 
 
 After some further desultory conversation, the superior 
 sportsmen retked to conclude the evening after their own 
 manner, leaving the others to enjoy themselves, unawed 
 by then' presence. That evening, like all those which 
 Brown had passed at Charlies-hope, was spent in much 
 innocent mirth and conviviality. The latter might have 
 approached to the verge of riot, but for the good women ; 
 for several of the neighbouring mistresses (a phrase of a 
 signification how different from what it bears in more 
 fashionable life !) had assembled at Charhes-hope to wit- 
 ness the event of this memorable evening. Finding the 
 punch-bowl was so often replenished, that there was some 
 danger of theu' gracious presence being forgotten, they 
 rushed in valorously upon the recreant revellers, headed 
 by our good mistress Ailie, so that Yenus speedily routed 
 Bacchus. The fiddler and piper next made their appear- 
 ance, and the best part of the night was gallantly con- 
 sumed in dancing to their music. 
 
 An otter-hunt the next day, and a badger-baiting the 
 day after, consumed the time merrily. — ^I hope our trav- 
 
GUT MANNERING. 283 
 
 eller will not sink in the reader's estimation, sportsman 
 though he may be, when I inform him, that on this last 
 occasion, after young Pepper had lost a fore-foot, and 
 Mustard the second had been nearly throttled, he begged 
 as a particular and personal favour of Mr. Dinmont, that 
 the poor badger, who had made so gallant a deence, 
 should be permitted to retire to his earth without farther 
 molestation. 
 
 The farmer, who would probably have treated this re- 
 quest with supreme contempt had it come from any other 
 person, was contented, in Brown's case, to express the 
 utter extremity of his wonder. " Weel," he said, " that's 
 queer aneugh ! — But since ye take his part, deil a tyke 
 shall meddle wi' him mair in my day — we'll e'en mark 
 him, and ca' him the Captain's brock — and I'm sure I'm 
 glad I can do ony thing to oblige you — but. Lord save us, 
 to care about a brock ! " 
 
 After a week spent in rural sport, and distinguished by 
 the most frank attentions on the part of his honest land- 
 lord, Brown bade adieu to the banks of the Liddel, and 
 the hospitality of Charhes-hope. The children, with all 
 of whom he had now become an intimate and a favourite, 
 roared manfully in full chorus at his departure, and he 
 was obliged to promise twenty times, that he would soon 
 return and play over all their favourite tunes upon the 
 flageolet till they had got them by heart. " Come back 
 again. Captain," said one httle sturdy fellow, " and Jenny 
 will be your wife." Jenny was about eleven years old : 
 she ran and hid herself behind her mammy. 
 
 " Captain, come back," said a Httle fat roll-about girl 
 of six, holding her mouth up to be kissed, " and I'll be 
 four wife my ainseU." 
 
 " They must be of harder mould than I," thought 
 
284 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Brown, " who could part from so many kind hearts with 
 indilFerence." The good dame too, with matron modesty, 
 and an affectionate simphcitj that marked the olden time, 
 offered her cheek to the depai'ting guest — " It's little the 
 like of us can do," she said, " little indeed — but yet — if 
 there were but ony thing " 
 
 " Now, my dear Mrs. Dinmont, you embolden me to 
 make a request — would you but have the kindness to 
 weave me, or work me, just such a gi-ey plaid as the 
 goodman wears ? " He had learned the language and 
 feelings of the country even during the short time of his 
 residence, and was aware of the pleasure the request 
 would confer. 
 
 "A tait o' woo' would be scarce amang us," said the 
 gudewife, brightening, " if ye shouldna hae that, and as 
 gude a tweel as ever cam aff a pirn. I'll speak to John- 
 nie Goodsire, the weaver at the Castletown, the morn. 
 Fare ye weel, sir ! — and may ye be just as happy yoursell 
 as ye like to see a' body else — and that would be a sair 
 wish to some folk." 
 
 I must not omit to mention, that our traveller left his 
 trusty attendant Wasp to be a guest at Charhes-hope for 
 a season. He foresaw that he might prove a troublesome 
 attendant in the event of his being in any situation where 
 secrecy and concealment might be necessary. He was 
 therefore consigned to the care of the eldest boy, who 
 promised, in the words of the old song, that he should hava 
 
 A bit of his supper, a bit of his bed, 
 
 and that he should be engaged in none of those perilous 
 pastimes in w^hich the race of Mustard and Pepper had 
 suffered frequent mutilation. Brown now prepared for 
 his journey, having taken a temporary farewell of hia 
 trusty Httle -companion. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 285 
 
 There is an odd prejudice in these hills in favour of 
 riding. Every farmer rides well, and rides the whole 
 day. Probably the extent of their large pasture larms, 
 and the necessity of surveying them rapidly, first intio- 
 duced this custom; or a very zealous antiquary might 
 derive it from the times of the Lay of the Last Minslrel, 
 when twenty thousand horsemen assembled at the Ught 
 of the beacon-fires.* But the truth is undeniable ; they 
 like to be on horseback, and can be with diliiculty con- 
 vinced that any one chooses walking from other motives 
 than those of convenience or necessity. Accordingly Din- 
 mont insisted upon mounting his guest, and accompanying 
 him on horseback as fiir as the nearest town in Dumfries- 
 shire, where he had du-ected his baggage to be sent, and 
 from which he proposed to pursue his intended journey 
 towards Woodbourne, the residence of Juha Mannering. 
 
 Upon the way he questioned his companion concerning 
 the character of the fox-hunter ; but gained little infor- 
 mation, as he had been called to that ofiace while Dinmont 
 was makmg the round of the Highland fairs. " He was 
 a shake-rag like fellow," he said, " and, he dared to say, 
 had gipsy blood in his veins ; but at ony rate, he was 
 nane o' the smacks that had been on their quarters in the 
 moss — he would ken them weel if he saw them again. 
 There are some no bad folk amang the gipsies too, to be 
 sic a gang," added Dandie ; " if ever I see that auld randle- 
 tree of a wife again, I'll gie her something to buy tobacco 
 — I have a great notion she meant me very fair after a'." 
 
 * It woul 1 be affectation to alter this reference. But the reader will 
 understand, that it was inserted to keep up the author's incognito, as 
 he was not likely to be suspected of quoting his own works. This ex- 
 planation is also applicable to one or two similar passages, in this and 
 ^he other novels, introduced for the same reason. 
 
286 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 When they were about finally to part, the good farmer 
 held Brown long by the hand, and at length said, " Cap- 
 tain, the woo's sae weel up the year, that it's paid a' the 
 rent, and we have naething to do wi' the rest o' the siller 
 wlien Ailie has had her new gown, and the bairns their 
 bits o' duds — now I was thmking of some safe hand to 
 put it into, for it's ower muckle to ware on brandy and 
 sugar — now I have heard that you army gentlemen can 
 sometimes buy yoursells up a step ; and if a hundred or 
 twa would help ye on such an occasion, the bit scrape o' 
 your pen would be as good to me as the siller, and ye 
 might just take yere ain time o' settling it — it wad be a 
 great convenience to me." Brown, who felt the full deh- 
 cacy that wished to disguise the conferring an obhgation 
 under the show of asking a favour, thanked his grateful 
 friend most heartily, and assured him he would have re- 
 course to his purse, without scruple, should circumstances 
 ever render it convenient for him. And thus they parted 
 with many expressions of mutual regard. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 2S? 
 
 CHAPTER XXVn. 
 
 If thou hast any lore of mercy in thee, 
 
 Turn me upon my face, that I may die. 
 
 Joanna B. 
 
 Our traveller hired a post-chaise at the place where he 
 separated from Dinmont, with the purpose of proceeding 
 to Kippletringan, there to inquire into the state of the 
 family at Woodbourne, before he should venture to make 
 his presence in the country known to Miss Mannering. 
 The stage was a long one of eighteen or twenty miles, 
 and the road lay across the country. To add to the 
 inconveniences of the journey, the snow began to fall 
 pretty quickly. The postilion, however, proceeded on 
 his journey for a good many miles, without expressing 
 doubt or hesitation. It was not until the night was 
 completely set in, that he intimated his apprehensions 
 whether he was in the right road. The increasing snow 
 rendered this intimation rather alarming, for as it drove 
 full in the lad's face, and lay whitening all around him, 
 it served in two different ways to confuse his knowledge 
 of the country, and to diminish the chance of his recov- 
 ering the right track. Brown then himself got out and 
 looked round, not, it may well be imagined, from any 
 better hope than that of seeing some house at which he 
 might make inquiry. But none appeared — he could 
 therefore only tell the lad to drive steadily on. The 
 
288 WAVERLEY KOTELS. 
 
 road on wHcli tliej were ran through plantations of con- 
 siderable extent and depth., and the traveller therefore 
 conjectured that there must be a gentleman's house at no 
 great distance. At length, after struggling wearilj on 
 for about a mile, the post-boy stopped, and protested his 
 horses would not budge a foot farther ; " but he saw," he 
 said, " a hght among the trees, which must proceed fi'om 
 a house ; the only way was to inquii-e the road there." 
 Accordingly, he dismounted, heavily encumbered with a 
 long great-coat and a pair of boots which might have 
 rivalled in thickness the seven-fold shield of Ajax. As 
 in this guise he was plodding forth upon his voyage of 
 discovery. Brown's impatience prevailed, and, jumping 
 out of the cai'riage, he desired the lad to stop where he 
 was, by the horses, and he would himself go to the house 
 — a command which the di'iver most joyfully obeyed. 
 
 Our traveller groped along the side of the enclosure 
 from which the light glimmered, in order to find some 
 mode of approaching in that direction, and after proceed- 
 ing for some space, at length found a stile in the hedge, 
 and a pathway leading into the plantation, which in that 
 place was of great extent. This promised to lead to the 
 light which was the object of his search, and accordingly 
 Brown proceeded in that direction, but soon totally lost 
 sight of it among the trees. The path, which at fii^t 
 seemed broad and well marked by the opening of the 
 wood thi'ough which it winded, was now less easily dis- 
 tinguishable, although the whiteness of the snow afforded 
 some reflected hght to assist his search. Directing him- 
 self as much as possible through the more open parts of 
 the wood, he proceeded almost a mile without either 
 recovering a view of the hght, or seeing any thing re- 
 sembling a habitation. Still, however, he thought it best 
 
GUT MANNEKING. 289 
 
 to persevere in that direction. It must surely have been 
 a light in the hut of a forester, for it shone too steadily to 
 be the glimmer of an ignis fatuus. The ground at length 
 became broken, and dechned rapidly ; and although Brown 
 conceived he still moved along what had once at least 
 been a pathway, it was now very unequal, and the snow 
 concealing those breaches and inequalities, the traveller 
 had one or two falls in consequence. He began now to 
 tlunk of turning back, especially as the falling snow, 
 "whicl his impatience had hitherto prevented his attending 
 to, was coming on thicker and faster. 
 
 Wilhng, however, to make a last effort, he still advanced 
 a Httle way, when, to his great delight, he beheld the light 
 opposite at no great distance, and apparently upon a level 
 with him. He quickly found that this last appearance 
 was deception, for the ground continued so rapidly to sink, 
 as made it obvious there was a deep dell, or ravine of 
 some kind, between him and the object of his search. 
 Taking every precaution to preserve his footing, he con- 
 tinued to descend until he reached the bottom of a very 
 steep and narrow glen, through which winded a small 
 rivulet, whose course was then almost choked with snow. 
 He now found himself embarrassed among the ruins of 
 cottages, whose black gables, rendered more distinguish- 
 able by the contrast with the whitened surface from which 
 they rose, were still standing ; the side-walls had long 
 since given way to time, and, piled in shapeless heaps, 
 and covered with snow, offered frequent and embarrassing 
 obstacles to our traveller's progress. Still, however, he 
 persevered — crossed the rivulet, not without some trouble, 
 and at length, by exertions which became both painful 
 and perilous, ascended its opposite and very rugged 
 
 VOL. III. 19 
 
290 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 bank, until he came on a level with the building from 
 which the gleam proceeded. 
 
 It was difficult, especially by so imperfect a light, to 
 discover the nature of this edifice ; but it seemed a square 
 building of small size, the upper part of which was totally 
 ruinous. It had, perhaps, been the abode, in former times, 
 of some lesser proprietor, or a place of strength and con* 
 cealment in case of need for one of gi-eater importance. 
 But only the lower vault remained, the arch of which 
 formed the roof in the present state of the building. 
 Brown first approached the place from whence the Hght 
 proceeded, which was a long naiTow sht or loophole, such 
 as usually are to be found in old castles. Impelled by 
 curiosity to reconnoitre the interior of this strange place 
 before he entered, BroTNTi gazed in at this aperture. A 
 scene of gi^eater desolation could not well be imagined. 
 There was a fire upon the floor, the smoke of which, after 
 circhng through the apartment, escaped by a hole broken 
 in the ai'ch above. The walls, seen by this smoky hght, 
 had the rude and waste appearance of a ruin of three 
 centuries old at least. A cask or two, with some broken 
 boxes and packages, lay about the place in confusion. 
 But the inmates chiefly occupied Brown's attention. 
 Upon a lair composed of straw, with a blanket stretched 
 over it lay a figure, so still, that, except it was not dressed 
 in the ordinary habiliments of the grave, Brown would 
 have concluded it to be a corpse. On a steadier view he 
 perceived it was only on the point of becoming so, for he 
 heard one or two of those low, deep, and hard-drawn 
 sighs, that precede dissolution when the frame is tenacious 
 of life, A female figure, dressed in a long cloak, sate on 
 a stone by this miserable couch : her elbows rested upon 
 her knees, and her face, averted from the hght of an iroa 
 
GUY MANNERINGc 291 
 
 lamp beiide her, was bent upon that of the dying person. 
 She moistened his mouth from time to time with some 
 liquid, and between whiles sung, in a low, monotonous 
 cadence, one of those prayers, or rather spells, which, in 
 some parts of Scotland, and the north of England, are 
 used by the vulgar and ignorant to speed the passage of a 
 parting spirit, like the tolling of the bell in cathoHc days. 
 She accompanied this dismal sound with a slow rocldng 
 motion of her body to and fro, as if to keep time with her 
 song. The words ran nearly thus ; — 
 
 Wasted, weaiy, wherefore stay, 
 Wrestling thus with earth and clay? 
 From the body pass away ; — 
 
 Hark ! the mass is singing. 
 
 From thee doff thy mortal weed, 
 Mary Mother be thy speed, 
 Saints to help thee at thy need ; — 
 
 Hark ! the knell is ringing. 
 
 Fear not snow-drift driving fast, 
 Sleet or hail, or levin blast; 
 Soon the shi'oud shall lap thee fast, 
 And the sleep be on thee cast 
 
 That shall ne'er know waking. 
 
 Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone, 
 Earth flits fast, and time draws on, — 
 Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan, 
 Day is near the breaking. 
 
 The songstress paused, and was answered by one or 
 two deep and hollow groans, that seemed to proceed from 
 the very agony of the mortal strife. *' It will not be," 
 she muttered to herself; " he cannot pass away with that 
 on his mind — it tethers him here — 
 
 Heaven cannot abide it, 
 Earth refuses to hide it.* 
 
 * The mysteri;us ntes in which Meg Merrilies is described as en* 
 
292 ' WAVERLEY NOVE1.S. 
 
 I must open the door ; " and rising, she faced towards the 
 door of the apartment, observing heedfullj not to turn 
 back her head, and, withdrawing a bolt or two, (for, not- 
 withstanding the miserable appearance of the place, the 
 door was cautiously secured,) she lifted the latch, saying, 
 
 gaging, belong to her character as a queen of her race. All know that 
 gipsies in every countiy claim acquaintance -with the gift of fortune* 
 telling; but, as is often the case, they are liable to the superstitions of 
 which they avail themselves in others. The con-espondent of Black- 
 wood, quoted in the Introduction to this Tale, gives us some informa- 
 tion on the subject of their credulity. 
 
 "I have ever understood," he says, speaking of the Yetholm gipsies, 
 " that they are extremely superstitious — carefully noticing the forma- 
 tion of the clouds, the flight of particular birds, and the soughing of the 
 winds, before attempting any enterprise. They have been known for 
 several successive days to turn back with their loaded carts, asses, and 
 children, on meeting with persons whom they considered of unlucky 
 aspect ; nor do they ever proceed on then* summer peregi'inations with- 
 out some propitious omen of their fortunate return. They also bum 
 the clothes of their dead, not so much from any apprehension of infec- 
 tion being communicated by them, as the conviction that the very 
 circumstance of wearing them w^ould shorten the days of their living. 
 They likewise carefully watch the corpse by night and day till the 
 time of intennent, and conceive that 'the deil tinkles at the lyke- 
 wake ' of those who felt in their dead-ihraw the agonies and terrors of 
 remorse." 
 
 These notions are not peculiar to the gipsies ; but having been once 
 generally entertained among the Scottish common people, are now only 
 found among those who are the most rude in their habits, and most 
 devoid of instruction. The popular idea, that the protracted struggle 
 between life and death is painfully prolonged by keeping the door of the 
 apartment shut, was received as certain by the superstitious eld of Scot- 
 land. But neither was it to be thrown wide open. To leave the door 
 ajar, was the plan adopted by the old crones who understood the mys- 
 teries of deathbeds and lykewakes. In that case, there was room for the 
 imprisoned spirit to escape ; and yet an obstacle, we have been assured, 
 was oflfei'ed to the enti-ance of any frightful form which might other- 
 wise intrude itself. The threshold of a habitation was in some sort a 
 Bacred limit, and the subject of much superstition. A bride, even tc 
 this day, 's always lifted ovei it — a rule derived apparently from the 
 Romans. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 293 
 
 Open lock — end strife, 
 Come death, and pass life. 
 
 Brown, who had by this time moved from his post, stood 
 before her as she opened the door. She stepped back a 
 pace, and he entered, instantly recognising, but with no 
 comfortable sensation, the same gipsy woman whom he 
 had met in Bewcastle. She also knew him at once, and 
 her attitude, figure, and the anxiety of her countenance, 
 assumed the appearance of the well-disposed ogress of a 
 fairy tale, warning a stranger not to enter the dangerous 
 castle of her husband. The first words she spoke (hold- 
 ing up her hands in a reproving manner) were, " Said I 
 not to ye. Make not, meddle not ? — Beware of the redding 
 straik ! * you are come to no house o' fair-strae death." 
 So saying, she raised the lamp, and turned its light on the 
 dying man, whose rude and harsh features were now con- 
 vulsed with the last agony. A roll of linen about his 
 head was stained with blood, which had soaked also 
 through the blankets and the straw. It was, indeed, 
 under no natural disease, that the wretch was suffering. 
 Brown started back from this horrible object, and, turn- 
 ing to the gipsy, exclaimed, " Wretched woman, who has 
 done this ? " 
 
 " They that were permitted," answered Meg Merrilies, 
 while she scanned with a close and keen glance the fea- 
 tures of the expiring man. — " He has had a sair struggle 
 —but it's passing : I kenn'd he would pass when you 
 came in. — That was the death-ruckle — ^lie's dead." 
 
 Sounds were now heard at a distance, as of voices. 
 " They are coming," said she to Brown ; " you are a 
 
 * The redding straik, namely, a blow received by a peace-maker 
 who interferes betwixt two combatants, to red or separate them, is 
 proverbially said to be the most dangerous blow a man can receive. 
 
294 WAYEPwLEY NOYELS. 
 
 dead man, if je liad as mony lives as hairs." Browii 
 eagerly looked round for some weapon of defence. There 
 was none near. He then rushed to the door with the 
 intention of plunging among the trees, and making hia 
 escape by flight, from what he now esteemed a den of 
 murderers, but Merrihes held him with a mascuhne 
 grasp. " Here," she said, " here — be still, and you are 
 safe — stir not, whatever you see or hear, and nothing 
 shall befall you." 
 
 Bro^Ti, in these desperate circumstances, remembered 
 this woman's intimation formerly, and thought he had no 
 chance of safety but in obeying her. She caused him to 
 couch down among a parcel of straw on the opposite side 
 of the apartment from the corpse, covered him carefuUy, 
 and flung over him two or three old sacks which lay about 
 the place. Anxious to observe what was to happen, 
 Bro^^'n arranged, as softly as he could, the means of peep- 
 ing from under the coverings by which he was hidden, 
 and awaited with a throbbing heart the issue of this 
 strange and most unpleasant adventm*e. The old gipsy, 
 in the mean time, set about arranging the dead body, com- 
 posing its limbs, and straightening the arms by its side. 
 " Best to do this," she muttered, " ere he stiffen." She 
 placed on the dead man's breast a trencher, with salt 
 sprinkled upon it, set one candle at the head, and another 
 at the feet of the body, and lighted both. Then she 
 resumed her song, and awaited the approach of those 
 whose voices had been heard without. 
 
 Brown was a soldier, and a brave one ; but he was also 
 a man, and at this moment his fears mastered his courage 
 so completely, that the cold drops burst out from every 
 pore. The idea of being dragged out of his miserable 
 concealment by wretches whose trade was that of mid 
 
GUY MANNEKIKG. 295 
 
 night murder, without weapons or the slightest means of 
 defence, except entreaties which would be only their 
 sport, and cries for help which could never reach other 
 ear than their own — his safety entrusted to the precarious 
 compassion of a being associated with these felons, and 
 whose trade of rapine and imposture must have hardened 
 her against every human feeling — the bitterness of his 
 emotions almost choked him. He endeavoured to read in 
 her withered and dark countenance, as the lamp threw its 
 light upon her features, something that promised those feel- 
 ings of compassion, which females, even in their most de- 
 graded state, can seldom altogether smother. There was no 
 such touch of humanity about this woman. The interest, 
 whatever it was, that determined her in his favour, arose 
 not from the impulse of compassion, but from some internal, 
 and probably capricious, association of feelings, to which 
 he had no clew. It rested, perhaps, on a fancied likeness, 
 such as Lady Macbeth found to her father in the sleeping 
 monarch. Such were the reflections that passed in rapid 
 succession through Brown's mind as he gazed from liis 
 hiding-place upon this extraordinary personage. Mean- 
 time the gang did not yet approach, and he was almost 
 prompted to resume his original intention of attempting 
 an escape from the hut, and cursed internally his own 
 irresolution, which had consented to his being cooped up 
 where he had neither room for resistance nor flight. 
 
 Meg Merrilies seemed equally on the watch. She 
 bent her ear to every sound that whistled round the old 
 walls. Then she turned again to the dead body, and 
 found something new to aiTange or alter in its position. 
 " He's a bonny corpse," she muttered to herself, " and 
 weel worth the streaking." — And in this dismal occupa- 
 tion she appeared to feel a sort of professional pleasure, 
 
296 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 entering slowly into all the minutiae, as if with the skilj 
 and feelings of a connoisseur. A long dark-coloured sea- 
 cloak, which she dragged out of a corner, was disposed 
 for a pall. The face she left bare, after closing the mouth 
 and eyes, and arranged the capes of the cloak so as to 
 hide the bloody bandages, and give the body, as she mut- 
 tered, " a mair decent appearance." 
 
 At once three or four men, equally ruffians in appear- 
 ance and dress, rushed into the hut. " Meg, ye limb of 
 Satan, how dare you leave the door open? " was the first 
 salutation of the party. 
 
 " And wha ever heard of a door being barred when a 
 man was in the dead-thi-aw ? — how d'ye think the spirit 
 was to get awa through bolts and bars like thae ? " 
 
 " Is he dead, then ? " said one who went to the side of 
 the couch to look at the body. 
 
 " Ay, ay — dead enough," — said another — " but here's 
 what shall give him a rousing lykewake." So saying, he 
 fetched a keg of spirits from a corner, while Meg has- 
 tened to display pipes and tobacco. From the activity 
 with which she undertook the task, Brown conceived good 
 hope of her fidelity towards her guest. It was obvious 
 that she wished to engage the ruffians in their debauch, to 
 prevent the discovery which might take place, if, by acci- 
 dent, any of them should approach too nearly the place 
 of Brown's concealment. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXVni. 
 
 Nor board nor garner own we now, 
 
 Nor roof nor latched door, 
 Nor kind mate, bound, by holy tow, 
 
 To bless a good man's store. 
 Noon liills us in a gloomy den, 
 
 And night is grown our day ; 
 Uprouse ye, then, my merry men! 
 
 And use it as ye may. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Brown could now reckon his foes ; — ^they weni five in 
 number; two of them were very powerful men, who 
 appeared to be either real seamen, or strollers who as- 
 sumed that character ; the other three, an old man and 
 two lads, were slighter made, and from their black hair 
 and dark complexion, seemed to belong to Meg's tribe. 
 They passed from one to another the cup out of which 
 they drank their spmts. " Here's to his good voyage ! " 
 said one of the seamen, drinking ; " a squally night he's 
 got, however, to drift thi'ough the sky in." 
 
 We omit here various execrations with which these 
 honest gentlemen garnished their discourse, retaining only 
 such of their expletives as are least offensive. 
 
 " 'A does not mind wind and weather — 'A has had 
 many a north-easter in his day." 
 
 " He had his last yesterday," said another gruffly ; 
 " and now old Meg may pray for his last fair wind, as 
 she's often done before." 
 
298 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " I'll pray for nane o' him," said Meg, " nor for you 
 neither, you randy dog. The times are sair altered since 
 I was a kitchen-mort.* Men were men then, and fought 
 other in the open field, and there was nae milling in the 
 darkmans.t And the gentry had kind hearts, and would 
 have given baith lap and pannel J to ony puir gipsy ; and 
 thf-re was not one, from Johnnie Faa, the upright man,§ 
 to little Christie that was in the panniers, would cloyed a 
 dud II from them. But ye are a' altered from the gude 
 auld rules, and no wonder that you scour the crampring, 
 and trine to the cheat % sae often. Yes, ye are a' altered 
 — you'll eat the goodman's meat, drink his di-ink, sleep 
 on the strammel ** in his barn, and break his house and 
 cut his throat for his pains ! There's blood on your 
 hands, too, ye dogs — mair than ever came there by fair 
 fighting. See how ye'll die then — lang it was ere he 
 died — he strove, and strove sair, and could neither die 
 nor live ; — but you — half the country will see how ye'll 
 grace the woodie." 
 
 The party set up a hoarse laugh at Meg's prophecy. 
 
 " What made you come back here, ye auld beldam ? " 
 said one of the gipsies ; " could ye not have staid where 
 you were, and spaed fortunes to the Cumberland flats ? — ■ 
 Bing out and tour,tt ye auld devil, and see that nobody 
 has scented ; that's a' you're good for now." 
 
 " Is that a' I am good for now ? " said the indignant 
 matron. " I was good for mair than that in the great 
 fight between our folk and Patrico Salmon's ; if I had 
 not helped you with these very fambles (holding up her 
 
 * A girl. t Murder by night. 
 
 J Liquor and food. § The leader (and gi-eatest rogue) of the gang 
 
 II Stolen a rag. T[ Get imprisoned and hanged. 
 
 ** Straw. ft Go out and watch. 
 
GT7Y MAXNEKLNG. 299 
 
 hands,) Jean Baillie would have franimagem'd youj* ye 
 feckless do-Uttle ! " 
 
 There was here another laugh, at the expense of the 
 hero who had received this amazon's assistance. 
 
 " Here, mother," said one of the sailors, " here's a cup 
 of the right for jou, and never mind that bully-huff." 
 
 Meg drank the spii'its, and, withdi'awing herself fi"om 
 farther conversation, sat down before the spot u'here 
 Brown lay hid, in such a j[)OSture that it would have been 
 difficult for any one to have approached it without her 
 risuig. The men, however, showed no disposition to dis- 
 tui'b her. 
 
 They closed around the fire, and held deep consulta- 
 tion together ; but the low tone in which they spoke, and 
 the cant language which they used, prevented Brown 
 from understanding much of their conversation. He 
 gathered in general, that they expressed* gi'eat indigna- 
 tion against some individual. " He shall have his gruel," 
 said one, and then whispered something very low hito the 
 ear of his comrade. 
 
 " I'U have nothing to do with that," said the other. 
 
 " Are you turned hen-hearted, Jack ? " 
 
 " No, by G — d, no more than yourself, — but I won't ; 
 — ^it was something like that stopped all the trade fifteen 
 or twenty years ago — you have heard of the Loup ? " 
 
 " I have heard him (indicating the corpse by a jerk of 
 his head) tell about that job. G — d, how he used to 
 laugh when he showed us how he fetched him off the 
 perch ! " 
 
 " Well, but it did up the trade for one while," said 
 Jack. 
 
 " How should that be ? " asked the surly villain. 
 * Throttled you. 
 
300 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " "Why," replied Jack, " the people got rustj about it, 
 and would not deal, and they had bought so many brooms * 
 that" 
 
 " Well, for all that," said the other, " I think we should 
 be dowTi upon the fellow one of these darkmans, and let 
 hiia get it well." 
 
 " But old Meg's asleep now," said another ; " she grows 
 a driveller, and is afraid of her shadow. She'll sing 
 out,t some of these odd-come-shortlies, if you don't look 
 sharp." 
 
 " Never feai'," said the old gipsy man ; " Meg's true- 
 bred ; she's the last in the gang that wiU start — ^but she 
 has some queer ways, and often cuts queer words." 
 
 With more of this gibberish, they continued the con- 
 versation, rendering it thus, even to each other, a dark 
 obscure dialect, eked out by significant nods and signs, 
 but never expressing distinctly, or in plain language, the 
 subject on which it turned. At length one of them, ob- 
 serving Meg was still fast asleep, or appeared to be so, 
 desired one of the lads " to hand in the black Peter, that 
 they might flick it open." The boy stepped to the door 
 and brought in a portmanteau, which Brown instantly 
 recognised as his own. His thoughts immediately turned 
 to the unfortunate lad he had left with the carriage. Had 
 the ruffians murdered him ? was the horrible doubt that 
 crossed his mind. The agony of his attention grew yet 
 keener, and while the villains pulled out and admired the 
 different articles of his clothes and linen, he eagerly lis- 
 tened for some indication that might intimate the fate of 
 the postilion. But the ruffians were too much delighted 
 
 * Got so many warrants out. 
 
 I To sing out, or Avhistle in the cage, is when a rogue, being appre- 
 hended, peaches against his conu-ades. 
 
GUT MANNERLNG. 301 
 
 with their prize, and too much busied in examining ita 
 contents, to enter into any detail concerning the manner 
 in Avhich they had acquired it. The portmanteau con- 
 tained various articles of apparel, a pair of pistols, a 
 leathern case with a few papers, and some money, &c. 
 &c. At any other time it would have provoked Brown 
 excessively to see the unceremonious manner in which 
 the thieves shared his property, and made themselves 
 merry at the expense of the owner. But the moment 
 was too perilous to admit any thoughts but what had im- 
 mediate reference to self-preservation. 
 
 After a sufficient scrutiny into the portmanteau, and an 
 ejpitable division of its contents, the ruffians applied 
 themselves more closely to the serious occupation of 
 drinking, in which they spent the greater part of the 
 night. Brown was for some time in great hopes that 
 they would drink so deep as to render themselves insen- 
 sible, when his escape would have been an easy matter. 
 But their dangerous trade required precautions incon- 
 sistent with such unlimited indulgence, and they stopped 
 short on this side of absolute intoxication. Three of 
 them at length composed themselves to rest, while the 
 fourth watched. He was reheved in this duty by one of 
 the others, after a vigil of two hours. When the second 
 watch had elapsed, the sentinel awakened the whole, who, 
 to Brown's inexpressible relief, began to make some prejj- 
 arations as if for departure, bundUng up the various 
 articles which each had appropriated. Still, however, 
 there remained something to be done. Two of them, 
 after some rummaging, which not a little alarmed Brown, 
 produced a mattock and shovel ; another took a pick-axe 
 from behind the straw on which the dead body was ex- 
 ;"*^nded. With these implements two of them left the hut, 
 
302 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 and the re maining three, two of whom were the seamen, 
 very strong men, still remained in garrison. 
 
 After the space of about half an hour, one of those who 
 had departed again returned, and whispered the others. 
 They wrapped up the dead body in the sea-cloak which 
 had served as a pall, and went out bearing it along with 
 them. The aged sibyl then rose from her real or feigned 
 slumbers. She first went to the door, as if for the pur- 
 pose of watching the departure of her late inmates, then 
 returned, and commanded Brown, in a low and stifled 
 voice, to follow her instantly. He obeyed ; but, on leav- 
 ing the hut he would willingly have repossessed himself 
 of his money, or papers at least ; but this she prohibited 
 in the most peremptory manner. It immediately occurred 
 to him that the suspicion of having removed any thing, 
 of which he might repossess himself, would fall upon this 
 woman, by whom, in all probability, his hfe had been 
 saved. He therefore immediately desisted from his at- 
 tempt, contenting himself with seizing a cutlass, which 
 one of the ruffians had flung aside among the straw. On 
 his feet, and possessed of this weapon, he already found 
 himself half delivered from the dangers which beset him. 
 Still, however, he felt stiffened and cramped, both with 
 the cold, and by the constrained and unaltered position 
 which he had occupied all night. But as he followed the 
 gipsy from the door of the hut, the fresh air of the morn- 
 ing, and the action of walking, restored circulation and 
 activity to his benumbed limbs. 
 
 The pale light of a winter's morning was rendered 
 mor3 clear by tlie snow, which was lying all around, 
 crisped by the influence of a severe frost. Brown cast a 
 hasty glance at the landscape around him, that he might 
 be able again to know the spot. The little tower, of which 
 
GUT MANNERING. 303 
 
 only a single vault remained, forming the dismal apart- 
 ment in whicli he had spent this remarkable night, was 
 perched on the very point of a projecting rock over- 
 hanging the rivulet. It was accessible only on one side, 
 and that from the ravine or glen below. On the other 
 three sides the bank was precipitous, so that Brown had 
 on the preceding evening escaped more dangers than one ; 
 for, if he had attempted to go round the building, which 
 was once his purpose, he must have been dashed to pieces. 
 The deU was so narrow, that the trees met in some places 
 from the opposite sides. They were now loaded with 
 snow instead of leaves, and thus formed a sort of frozen 
 canopy over the rivulet beneath, which was marked by 
 its darker colour, as it soaked its way obscurely through 
 wreaths of snow. In one place, where the glen was a 
 little wider, leaving a small piece of flat ground between 
 the rivulet and the bank, were situated the ruins of the 
 hamlet in which Brown had been involved on the preced- 
 ing evening. The ruined gables, the insides of which 
 were japanned with turf-smoke, looked yet blacker, con- 
 trasted with the patches of snow which had been driven 
 against them by the wind, and with the drifts which lay 
 around them. 
 
 Upon this wintry and dismal scene. Brown could only 
 at present cast a very hasty glance ; for his guide, after 
 pausing an instant, as if to permit him to indulge his 
 curiosity, strode hastily before him down the path which 
 led into the glen. He observed, with some feelmgs of 
 suspicion, that she chose a track already marked by 
 seveial feet, which he could only suppose were those of 
 the depredators who had spent the night in the vault. A 
 moment's recollection, however, put his suspicions to rest. 
 It was not to be thought that the woman, who might 
 
804 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 have delivered him up to her gang when in a state 
 totally defenceless, would have suspended her supposed 
 treachery until he was armed, and in the open air, and 
 had so many better chances of defence or escape. lie 
 therefore followed his guide in confidence and silenco. 
 They crossed the small brook at the same place wliei'e it 
 previously had been passed by those who had gone be- 
 fore. The foot-marks then proceeded through the ruined 
 village, and from thence down the glen, which again 
 narrowed to a ravine, after the small opening in which 
 they were situated. But the gipsy no longer followed the 
 same track ; — she turned aside, and led the way, by a 
 very rugged and uneven path, up the bank which over- 
 hung the village. Although the snow in many places hid 
 the path -way, and rendered the footing uncertain and un- 
 safe, Meg proceeded with a firm and determined step, 
 wliich indicated an intimate knowledge of the ground she 
 traversed. At length they gained the top of the bank, 
 though by a passage so steep and intricate that Brown, 
 though convinced it was the same by which he had 
 descended on the night before, was not a little surprised 
 how he had accomplished the task without breaking his 
 neck. Above, the country opened wide and unenclosed 
 for about a mile or two on the one hand, and on the othei 
 were thick plantations of considerable extent. 
 
 Meg, however, still led the way along the bank of the 
 ravine out of which they had ascended, until she heard 
 beneath the murmur of voices. She then pointed tj a 
 deep plantation of trees at some distance. — " The road to 
 Kippletringan," she said, " is on the other side of these 
 en(^losures. — Make the speed ye can ; there's mair rests 
 on your life than other folk's. — But you have lost all — • 
 stay." She fumbled in an immense pocket, from which 
 
GUY MANNERING. S05 
 
 she produced a greasy purse. — " Many's the awmous your 
 house has gi'en Meg and hers — and she has lived to pay 
 it back in a small degree ; " — and she placed the purse in 
 his hand. 
 
 " The woman is insane," thought Brown ; but it was 
 no time to debate the point, for the sounds he heard in 
 the ravine below probably proceeded from the banditti. 
 " How shall I repay this money," he said, " or how 
 acknowledge the kindness you have done me ? " 
 
 " I hae twa boons to crave," answered the sibyl, speak- 
 ing low and hastily : " one, that you will never speak of 
 what you have seen this night ; the other, that you will 
 not leave this country till you see me again, — and that 
 you leave word at the Gordon- Arms where you are to be 
 heard of; and when I next call for you, — be it in church 
 or market, at wedding or at burial, Sunday or Saturday, 
 meal-time or fasting, — that ye leave everything else and 
 come with me." 
 
 " Why, that will do you httle good, mother." 
 
 "But 'twill do yoursell muckle, and that's what I'm 
 thinking o'. I am not mad, although I have had eneugh 
 to make me sae — I am not mad, nor doating, nor drunken 
 — I know what I am asking, and I know it has been the 
 will of God to preserve you m strange dangers, and that 
 I shall be the iustrument to set you in your father's seat 
 again. — Sae give me your promise, and miud that you 
 owe your life to me this blessed night." 
 
 " There's wildness in her manner, certainly," thought 
 Brown, — " and yet it is more like the wildness of enerojy 
 
 than of madness. Well, mother, since you do ask so 
 
 useless and trifling a favour, you have my promise. It 
 will at least give me an opportunity to repay your money 
 
 VOL. ui. 20 
 
so 6 WAYEHLEY NOVELS. 
 
 with additions. You are an uncommon kind of creditor, 
 no doubt, but " — 
 
 " Away, away, tlien ! " said she, waving her hand. 
 " Think not about the goud — it's a' jour ain ; but remem- 
 ber jour promise, and do not dare to follow me or look 
 after me." So sajing, she plunged again into the dell, 
 and descended it with great agililj, the icicles and snow- 
 wreaths showering down after her as she disappeared. 
 
 Notwithstanding her prohibition, Brown endeavoured 
 to gain some point of the bank from which he might, 
 unseen, gaze down into the glen ; and with some difficulty 
 (for it must be conceived that the utmost caution was 
 necessarj) he succeeded. The spot which he attained 
 for this purpose was the point of a projecting rock, which 
 rose precipitouslj from among the trees. Bj kneeUng 
 down among the snow, and stretching his head cautiously 
 forward, he could observe what was going on in the bot- 
 tom of the dell. He saw, as he expected, his companions 
 of the last night, now joined bj two or three others. Thej 
 had cleared awaj the snow from the foot of the rock, and 
 dug a deep pit, which was designed to serve the purpose 
 of a grave. Around this thej now stood, and lowered 
 into it something wrapped in a naval cloak, wliich Brown 
 instantlj concluded to be the dead bodj of the man he 
 had seen expire. Thej then stood silent for half a min- 
 ute, as if under some touch of feeling for the loss of their 
 companion. But if thej experienced such, thej did not 
 long remain under its influence, for all hands went pres- 
 entlj to work to fill up the grave ; and Brown, perceiving 
 that the task would be soon ended, thought it best to take 
 the gip3j-woman's hint, and walk as fast as possible until 
 he should gain the shelter of the plantation. 
 
 Havuig arrived under cover of the trees, his first 
 
GUT MANNERING. 307 
 
 thouglit was of the gipsy's purse. He had accepted it 
 without hesitation, though with something hke a feeUng 
 of degradation, ai'ising from the character of the person 
 by whom he was thus accommodated. But it reheved 
 him from a serious, though temporary, embarrassment. 
 His money, excepting a very few shillings, was in his port- 
 man teau, and that was in possession of Meg's friends. 
 Some time was necessary to write to his agent, or even to 
 apply to his good host, at CharUes-hope, who would gladly 
 have supplied him. In the mean time, he resolved to 
 avail himself of Meg's subsidy, confident that he should 
 have a speedy opportunity of replacing it with a hand- 
 some gratuity. " It can be but a trifling sum," he said to 
 himself, " and I dare say the good lady may have a share 
 of my bank-notes to make amends." 
 
 With these reflections he opened the leathern purse, 
 expecting to find at most three or four guineas. But 
 how much was he surprised to discover that it contained 
 besides a considerable quantity of gold pieces, of different 
 coinages and various counti'ies, the joint amount of which 
 could not be short of a hundred pounds, several valuable 
 rings and ornaments set with jewels, and, as appeared 
 from the slight inspection he had time to give them, of 
 very considerable value. 
 
 Brown was equally astonished and embarrassed by the 
 circumstances in which he found himself, possessed, as he 
 now appeared to be, of property to a much greater amount 
 than liis own, but which had been obtained in all prob- 
 ability by the same nefarious means tlu-ough which he had 
 himself been plundered. His first thought was to inquire 
 after the nearest justice of peace, and to place in his hands 
 the treasure of which he had thus unexpectedly become 
 die depositary, telling, at the same time, his own remark- 
 
308 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 able story. But a moment's consideration brought several 
 objections to this mode of procedure. In the first place, 
 bj observing this course, he should break his promise of 
 silence, and might probably by that means involve the 
 safety, perhaps the life, of this woman, who had risked 
 her own to preserve his, and who had voluntarily endowed 
 liim with this treasure, — a generosity which might thus 
 become the means of her ruin. This was not to be thought 
 of. Besides, he was a stranger, and, for a time at least, 
 unprovided with means of establishing his ovm character 
 and credit to the satisfaction of a stupid or obstinate 
 country magistrate. " I will think over the matter more 
 maturely," he said : " perhaps there may be a regiment 
 quartered at the country-town, in which case my knowl- 
 edge of the service, and acquaintance with many officers 
 of the army, cannot fail to establish my situation and 
 character by evidence which a civil judge could not suffi- 
 ciently estimate. And then I shall iiave the commanding- 
 officer's assistance in manapjinoj matters so as to screen 
 this unhappy mad woman, whose mistake or prejudice 
 has been so fortunate for me. A civil magistrate might 
 think himself obliged to send out warrants for her at 
 once, and the consequence, in case of her being taken, is 
 pretty evident. No, she has been upon honour with mo 
 if she were the devil, and I will be equally upon honour 
 with her — she shall have the privilege of a court-martial, 
 where the point of honour can qualify strict law. Be- 
 sides, I may see her at this place, Kipple — Couple — • 
 what did she call it ! and then I can make restitution to 
 her, and e'en let the law claim its own when it can secure 
 her. In the meanwhile, however, I cut rather an awk- 
 ward figure for one who has the honour to bear his 
 Majesty's commission, being little better than the receiver 
 of stolen goods." 
 
(iUY MANNERING. 309 
 
 With these reflections, Brown took from the gipsy's 
 treasure three or four guineas, for the purpose of his 
 immediate expenses, and tying up the rest in the purse 
 which contained them, resolved not again to open it, until 
 he could either restore it to her by whom it was given, or 
 put it into the hands of some public functionary. He 
 next thought of the cutlass, and his first impulse was to 
 leave it in the plantation. But when he considered the 
 risk of meeting with these ruffians, he could not resolve 
 on parting with his arms. His walking-di'ess, though 
 plain, had so much of a military character as suited not 
 amiss with his having such a weapon. Besides, though 
 the custom of wearing swords by persons out of uniform 
 had been gradually becoming antiquated, it was not yet 
 so totally forgotten as to occasion any particular remark 
 towards those who chose to adhere to it. Retaining, 
 therefore, his weapon of defence, and placmg the purse 
 01 the gipsy in a private pocket, our traveller strode 
 gallantly on through the wood in search of the promised 
 high road. 
 
310 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence, 
 We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, 
 Have with our needles created both one flower; 
 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
 Both warbling of one song, both in one key, 
 As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds. 
 Had been incorporate. 
 
 A Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMONT. - 
 
 " How can you upbraid me, my dearest Matilda, with 
 abatement in friendship, or fluctuation in affection ? I3 
 it possible for me to forget that you are the chosen of my 
 lieai^t, in whose faithful bosom I have deposited every 
 feehng which your poor Julia dares to acknowledge to 
 herself? And you do me equal injustice in upbraiding 
 me with exchanging your friendship for that of Lucy 
 Bertram. I assure you she has not the materials I must 
 seek for in a bosom confidante. She is a charming girl, 
 to be sure, and I hke her very much, and I confess our 
 forenoon and evening engagements have left me less time 
 for the exercise of my pen than our proposed regularity 
 of correspondence demands. But she is totally devoid 
 of elegant accompHshments, excepting the knowledge of 
 French and Italian, which she acquii-ed from the most 
 grotesque monster you ever beheld, whom my fathor has 
 
GUT MANNERING. 311 
 
 engaged as a kind of librarian, and whom he patronizes, 
 I believe, to show his defiance of the world's opinion. 
 Colonel Mannering seems to have formed a determina- 
 tion, that nothing shall be considered as ridiculous, so 
 long as it appertains to or is connected with him. I 
 remember in India he had picked up somewhere a Httle 
 mongrel cur, with bandy legs, a long back, and huge 
 flapping ears. Of this uncouth creature he chose to 
 make a favourite, in despite of all taste and opinion ; and 
 I remember one instance which he alleged, of what he 
 called Brown's petulance, was, that he had criticised 
 severely the crooked legs and drooping ears of Bingo. 
 On my word, Matilda, I believe he nurses his high opin- 
 ion of this most awkward of all pedants upon a similar 
 principle. He seats the creature at table, where he pro- 
 nounces a grace that sounds hke the scream of the man 
 in the square that used to cry mackerel, — flings his meat 
 down his throat by shovelfuls, hke a dustman loading his 
 cart, and apparently without the most distant perception 
 of what he is swallowing, — ^then bleats forth another 
 unnatural set of tones, by way of returning thanks, stalks 
 out of the room, and immerses himself among a parcel 
 of huge worm-eaten folios that are as uncouth as himself! 
 I could endure the creature well enough, had I any body 
 to laugh at him along with me ; but Lucy Bertram, if I 
 but. verge on the border of a jest affecting this same Mr. 
 Sampson, (such is the horrid man's horrid name,) looks 
 so piteous, that it deprives me of all spirit to proceed, 
 anil my father knits his brow, flashes fire from his eye, 
 bites his lip, and says something that is extremely i ude, 
 and uncomfortable to my feelings. 
 
 " It was not of this creature, however, that I measat to 
 speak to you — only that, being a good scholar ii tW 
 
312 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 modern, as well as the ancient languages, he has contrived 
 to make Lucy Bertram mistress of the former, and she 
 has only, I believe, to thank her own good sense or 
 obstinacy, that the Gre^k, Latin, (and Hebrew, for aught 
 I know,) were not added to her acquisitions. And thus 
 she really has a great fund of information, and I assure 
 you I am daily surprised at the power which she seems 
 to possess of amusing herself by recalling and arranging 
 the subjects of her former reading. We read together 
 every morning, and I begin to hke Itahan much better 
 than when we were teased by that conceited animal 
 Cicipici ; — this is the way to spell his name, and not 
 Chichipichi — you see I grow a connoisseur. 
 
 " But perhaps I like Bliss Bertram more for the 
 accomphshments she wants, than for the knowledge she 
 possesses. She knows nothing of music whatever, and 
 no more of dancing than is here common to the meanest 
 peasants, — who, by the way, dance with great zeal and 
 spuit. So that I am instructor in my turn, and she 
 takes with great gratitude lessons from me upon the 
 harpsichord, and I have even taught her some of La 
 Pique's steps, and you know he thought me a promising 
 scholar. 
 
 " Li the evening, papa often reads, and I assure you 
 he is the best reader of poetry you ever heard — not hke 
 that actor, who made a kind of jumble between reading 
 and acting, staring, and bending his brow, and twisting 
 liis face, and gesticulating as if he were on the stage, and 
 dressed out in all his costume. My father's manner is 
 quite different — it is the reading of a gentleman, who 
 produces effect by feeling, taste, and inflection of voice, 
 not by action or mummery. Lucy Bertram rides remark- 
 ably well, and I can now accompany her on horseback, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 313 
 
 having become emboldened by example. We walk also 
 a good deal in spite of the cold. So, upon the whole, I 
 Lave not quite so much time for writing as I used to 
 liave. 
 
 " Besides, my love, I must really use the apology of 
 all stupid correspondents, that I have nothing to say. 
 IMy hopes, my fears, my anxieties about Brown, are of a 
 less interesting cast, since I know that he is at hberly, 
 and in health. Besides, I must own, I think that by this 
 time the gentleman might have given me some intimation 
 what he was doing. Our intercourse may be an impru- 
 dent one, but it is not very comphmentary to me, that 
 ]Mr. Yanbeest Brown should be the first to discover that 
 such is the case, and to break off in consequence. I can 
 promise him that we might not differ much in opinion 
 should that happen to be his, for I have sometimes 
 thought I have behaved extremely foohshly in that 
 matter. Yet I have so good an opinion of poor Brown, 
 that I cannot but think there is something extraordinary 
 in his silence. 
 
 " To return to Lucy Bertram. — No, my dearest Ma- 
 tilda, she can never, never rival you in my regard, so 
 that all your affectionate jealousy on that account is 
 without foundation. She is, to be sure, a very pretty, a 
 very sensible, a very affectionate girl, and I think there 
 are few persons to whose consolatory friendship I could 
 have recourse more freely in what ai^e called the real evils 
 of Ufe. But then these so seldom come in one's way, 
 and one wants a friend who will sympathize with dis- 
 tresses of sentiment, as well as with actual misfortune. 
 Heaven knows, and you know, my dearest Matilda, that 
 these diseases of the heart require the balm of sympathy 
 and affection, as much as the evils of a more obvious and 
 
314 WAVEliLEY NOVELS. 
 
 determinate cliai'acter. Now Lucy Bertram has nothing 
 of this kmdly sympathy — nothuig at all, my deai'est 
 Matilda. Were I sick of a fever, she would sit up night 
 after night to nurse me with the most unrepining patience ; 
 but with the fever of the heai-t, which my Matilda has 
 soothed so often, she has no more sympathy than her old 
 tutor. And yet what provokes me is, that the demure 
 monkey actually has a lover of her own, and that their 
 mutual affection (for mutual I take it to be) has a great 
 deal of compHcated and romantic interest. She was 
 once, you must know, a gTcat heiress, but was ruined by 
 the prodigality of her father, and the villany of a horrid 
 man in whom he confided. And one of the handsomest 
 young gentlemen in the country is attached to her ; but 
 as he is heir to a great estate, she discourages his ad- 
 dresses on account of the disproportion of their fortune. 
 " But with all this moderation, and self-denial, and 
 modesty, and so forth, Lucy is a sly girl — I am sure she 
 loves young Hazlewood, and I am sure he has some guess 
 of that, and would probably bring her to acknowledge it 
 too, if my father or she would allow him an opportunity 
 But you must know the Colonel is always himself in the 
 way to pay Miss Bertram those attentions which afford 
 the best indirect opportunities for a young gentleman in 
 Hazlewood's situation. I would have my good papa tak(» 
 care that he does not himself pay the usual penalty of 
 meddling folks. I assure you, if I were Hazlewood, I 
 should look on his compliments, his bowings, his cloak- 
 mgs, his shawlings, and his handings, with some little 
 suspicion — and truly I think Hazlewood does so too at 
 some odd times. Then imagine what a silly figure your 
 poor Julia makes on such occasions ! Here is my father 
 making the agreeable to my friend; there is young 
 
GUY MANNERING. 315 
 
 Hazlewood watching every word of her lips, and every 
 motion of her eye ; and I have not the poor satisfaction 
 of interesting a human being — not even the exotic mon- 
 ster of a parson, for even he sits with his mouth open, 
 and his huge round goggling eyes fixed like thc3e of a 
 statue, admiring Mess Baartram ! 
 
 " All this makes me sometimes a little nervous, and 
 gcmetimes a little mischievous. I was so provoked at 
 my father and the lovers the other day for turning me 
 completely out of their thoughts and society, that I began 
 an attack upon Hazlewood, from w^hich it was impossible 
 for him, in common civility, to escape. He insensibly 
 became warm in his defence. — I assure you, Matilda, he 
 is a very clever, as well as a very handsome young man, 
 and I don't think I ever remember having seen him to 
 the same advantage — when, behold, in the midst of our 
 lively conversation, a very soft sigh from JMiss Lucy 
 reached my not ungratified ears. I was greatly too gen- 
 erous to prosecute my victory any farther, even if I had 
 not been afraid of papa. Luckily for me, he had at that 
 moment got into a long description of the pecuHar notions 
 and manners of a certain tribe of Lidians, who live far 
 up the country, and was illustrating them by making 
 drawings on Miss Bertram's work-patterns, three of 
 which he utterly damaged, by introducing among the 
 intricacies of the pattern his specimens of Oriental cos- 
 tume. But I believe she thought as little of her own 
 gown at the moment as of the India turbands and cum- 
 merbands. However, it was quite as well for me that he 
 did not see all the merit of my httle manoeuvre, for he is 
 as sharp-sighted as a hawk, and a sworn enemy to the 
 slightest shade of coquetry. 
 
 "Well, Matilda, — Hazlewood heard this same half* 
 
316 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 audible sigh, and instantly repented his temporary atten- 
 tions to such an unworthy object as your Julia, and, with 
 a very comical expression of consciousness, di'ew near to 
 Lucy's work-table. He made some trifling observation, 
 and her reply was one in which nothing but an ear as 
 acute as that of a lover, or a curious observer like myself, 
 could have distinguished anything more cold and dry than 
 usual. But it conveyed reproof to the self-accusing hero, 
 and he stood abashed accordingly. You will admit that 
 I was called upon in generosity to act as mediator. So I 
 mingled in the conversation, in the quiet tone of an un- 
 observing and uninterested third party, led them into 
 their former habits of easy chat, and, after having served 
 awhile as the channel of communication thi'ough which 
 they chose to address each other, set them down to a 
 pensive game of chess, and very dutiftilly went to tease 
 papa, who was stUl busied with his drawings. The chess- 
 players, you must observe, were placed near the chimney, 
 beside a Httle work-table, which held the board and men 
 —the Colonel at some distance, with lights upon a library 
 table, — for it is a large old-fashioned room, with several 
 recesses, and hung with grim tapestry, representing what 
 it might have puzzled the artist himself to explain. 
 
 " * Is chess a very interesting game, papa ? ' 
 
 " * I am told so,' without honouring me with much of 
 his notice. 
 
 " ' I should think so, from the attention JVIr. Ilazlc- 
 wood and Lucy are bestowing on it.' 
 
 " He r/^ised his head hastily, and held his pencil sus- 
 pended for an instant. Apparently he saw nothing that 
 excited his suspicions, for he Avas resuming the folds of a 
 Mahratta's turban in tranquillity, when I interrupted him 
 With^-* How old is Miss Bertram, sir ? ' 
 
GUT MANNEEING. ht7 
 
 " ' How should I know, Miss ? about your own age, I 
 suppose.' 
 
 " ' Older, I should think, sir. You are always telling 
 me how much more decorously she goes through all the 
 honours of the tea-table. — Lord, papa, what if you should 
 give her a right to preside once and forever ! ' 
 
 " * Juha, my dear,' returned papa, ' you are either si 
 fool outright, or you are more disposed to make mischief 
 than I have yet believed you.' 
 
 " ' O, my dear sir ! put your best construction upon it 
 — 1 would not be thought a fool for all the world.' 
 
 " ' Then why do you talk hke one ? ' said my father. 
 
 " ' Lord, sir, I am sure there is nothing so foohsh in 
 what I said just now. Everybody knows you are a very 
 liandsome man,' (a smile was just visible,) * that is, for 
 your time of life,' (the dawn was overcast,) ' which is far 
 from being advanced, and I am sure I don't know why 
 you should not please yourself, if you have a mind. I 
 am sensible I am but a thoughtless girl, and if a graver 
 companion could render you more happy ' 
 
 " There was a mixture of displeasure and grave affec- 
 tion in the manner in which my father took my hand, 
 that was a severe reproof to me for trifling with his feel- 
 ings. * Julia,' he said, ' I bear with much of your petu- 
 lance, because I think I have in some degree deserved it, 
 by neglecting to superintend your education sufficiently 
 closely. Yet I would not have you give it the rein upon 
 a subject so dehcate. If you do not respect the feelings 
 of your surviving parent towards the memory of her 
 whom you have lost, attend at least to the sacred claims 
 of misfortune ; and observe, that the slightest hint of such 
 a jest reacliing Miss Bertram's ears, would at once induce 
 her to renounce her present asylum, and go forth without 
 
318 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 a protector, into a world she has abeady felt so un- 
 friendly.' 
 
 " What could I saj to this, Matilda ? — I only cried 
 heartily, begged pardon, and promised to be a good girl 
 in future- And so here am I neutralized again ; for I 
 cannot, in honour, or common good nature, tease poor 
 Lucy by interfering with Hazlewood, although she has 
 60 little confidence in me ; and neither can I, after this 
 grave appeal, venture again upon such delicate ground 
 with papa. So I burn little rolls of paper, and sketch 
 Turks' heads upon visiting cards with the blackened end, 
 —I assure you, 1 succeeded in making a superb Hyder- 
 Ally last night — and I jingle on my unfortunate harp- 
 sichord, and begin at the end of a grave book and read it 
 backward. — After all, I begin to be very much vexed 
 about Brown's silence. Had he been obliged to leave 
 the country, I am sure he would at least have written to 
 me. — Is it possible that my father can have intercepted 
 his letters ? But no — that is contrary to all his prin- 
 ciples — I don't think he would open a letter addressed to 
 me to-night, to prevent my jumping out of window to- 
 morrow. — What an expression I have sufi'ered to escape 
 my pen ! T should be ashamed of it, even to you, Ma- 
 tilda, and used in jest But I need not take much merit 
 for acting as I ought to do. This same ISIr. Vanbeest 
 Brown is by no means so very ardent a lover as to hurry 
 the object of his attachment into such inconsiderate 
 steps. He gives one fnll time to reflect, that must be 
 admitted. However, I will not blame him unheard, nor 
 permit myself to doubt the manly firmness of a character 
 which I have so often extolled to you. Were he capable 
 of doubt, of fear, of the shadow of change, I should have 
 little to regret. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 319 
 
 " And why, you will say, wlien I expect such steady 
 and unalterable constancy from a lover, why should I be 
 anxious about what HazleM'ood does, or to whom he 
 offers his attentions ? — I ask myself the question a hun- 
 dred times a-day, and it only receives the very silly 
 answer, — that one does not hke to be neglected, though 
 one would not encourage a serious infidelity. 
 
 "I write all these trifles, because you say that they 
 amuse you, and yet I wonder how they should. I re- 
 member, in our stolen voyages to the world of fiction, 
 you always admired the grand and the romantic — tales 
 of knights, dwarfs, giants, and distressed damsels, sooth- 
 sayers, visions, beckoning ghosts, and bloody hands, — 
 whereas I was partial to the involved intrigues of private 
 life, or at farthest, to so much only of the supernatural as 
 is conferred by the agency of an Eastern genie or a benefi- 
 cent fairy. You would have loved to shape your course 
 of life over the broad ocean, with its dead calms and 
 howling tempests, its tornadoes, and its billows mountain- 
 high, — whereas I should like to trim my little pinnace to 
 a brisk breeze in some inland lake or tranquil bay, where 
 there was just difl[iculty of navigation sufficient to give 
 interest and to require skill, without any sensible degree 
 of danger. So that, upon the whole, Matilda, I think 
 you should have had my father, with his pride of arms 
 and of ancestry, his chivalrous point of honour, his high 
 talents, and his abstruse and mystic studies ; — you should 
 have had Lucy Bertram, too, for your friend, whose 
 fathers, with names which alike defy memory and orthog- 
 raphy, ruled over this romantic country, and whose 
 birth took place, as I have been indistinctly informed, 
 under circumstances of deep and peculiar interest ; — you 
 should have had, too, our Scottish residence, surrounded 
 
S20 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 by mountains, and our lonely walks to haunted ruins 
 And I should have had, in exchange, the lawns and 
 shrubs, and green-houses, and conservatories, of Pine- 
 park, with your good, quiet, indulgent aunt, her chapel 
 in the morning, her nap after dinner, her hand at whist 
 in the evening, not forgetting her fat coach-horses and 
 fatter coachman. Take notice, however, that Brown is 
 not included in this proposed barter of mine ; — ^his good- 
 humour, lively conversation, and open gallantry, suit my 
 plan of life, as well as his athletic form, handsome fea- 
 tures, and high spirit, would accord with a character of 
 chivalry. So, as we cannot change altogether out and 
 out, I think we must e'en abide as we are." 
 
GUY MANNERING 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
^f W Y IM A M M E M E If e- 
 
 ^-M^'^yu 
 
 ^i^:^?7?^'9Z/^ QJOyT/YuhPTl/ 
 
 iub3iah.eaiDy lidtnox and Fields, Boston. 1857. 
 
GUY MANNERING; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER. 
 
 Tis said that words and signs have power 
 O'er sprites in planetary hour ; 
 But scarce I praise their venturous part- 
 Who tamper with such dangerous art. 
 
 LA.T 07 IHS LAST MIKSTUb 
 
GUY MANNERING; 
 
 OR. 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 B«nounce your defiance; if you parley so roughly, I'll barricade my gatui 
 against you.— Do you see yon bay window? Storm, — ^I care not, serving th« 
 good Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 MsBET Dsyn. of Edmonton. 
 
 JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMONT. 
 
 " I RISE from a sick-bed, my dearest Matilda, to com- 
 municate the strange and frightful scenes which have just 
 passed. Alas, how little we ought to jest with friturity! 
 I closed my letter to you in high spirits, with some flip- 
 pant remarks on your taste for the romantic and extraor- 
 dinary in fictitious narrative. How little I expected to 
 have had such events to record in the course of a few 
 days ! And to witness scenes of terror, or to contemplate 
 them in description, is as different, my dearest Matilda, as 
 to bend over the brink of a precipice holding by the frail 
 tenure of a half-rooted shrub, or to admire the same 
 
6 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 precipice as represented in the landscape of Sahator. 
 But I will not anticipate my narrative. 
 
 " The first part of my story is frightful enough, though 
 it had nothing to interest my feelings. You must know 
 that this country is particularly favourable to the com- 
 merce of a set of desperate men from the Isle of Man, 
 which is nearly opposite. These smugglers are numer- 
 ous, resolute, and formidable, and have at different times 
 become the di-ead of the neighbourhood when any one has 
 interfered with their contraband trade. The local magis- 
 trates, from timidity or worse motives, have become shy 
 of acting against them, and impunity has rendered them 
 equally daring and desperate. With all this, my father, 
 a stranger in the land, and invested with no official au- 
 thority, had, one would think, nothing to do. But it must 
 be owned, that, as he himself expresses it, he was born 
 when Mars was lord of his ascendant, and that strife and 
 bloodshed find him out in circumstances and situations the 
 most retired and pacific. 
 
 " About eleven o'clock on last Tuesday morning, while 
 Hazlewood and my father were proposing to walk to a 
 little lake about three miles' distance, for the purpose of 
 shooting wild ducks, and while Lucy and I were busied 
 with arranging our plan of work and study for the day, 
 we were alarmed by the sound of horses' feet, advancing 
 very fast up the avenue. The ground was hardened by 
 a severe frost, which made the clatter of the hoofs sound 
 yet louder and sharper. In a moment two or three men, 
 armed, mounted, and each leading a spare horse loaded 
 with packages, appeared on the lawn, and, without keep- 
 ing upon the road, which makes a small sweep, pushed 
 right across for the door of the house. Their appearance 
 was in the utmost degree hurried and disordered, and they 
 
GUT MANNERING. 7 
 
 frequently looked back like men who apprehended a close 
 and deadly pursuit. My father and Hazlewood hurried 
 to the front door to demand who they were, and what was 
 their business. They were revenue officers, they stated, 
 who had seized these horses, loaded with contraband arti- 
 cles, at a place about three miles off. But the smugglers 
 had been reinforced, and were now pursuing them with 
 the avowed purpose of recovering the goods, and putting 
 to death the officers who had presumed to do their duty. 
 The men said, that their horses being loaded, and the 
 pursuers gaining ground upon them, they had fled to 
 Woodbourne, conceiving, that as my father had served 
 the king, he would not refuse to protect the servants of 
 Government, when thi-eatened to be murdered in the dis- 
 charge of their duty. 
 
 " My father, to whom, in his enthusiastic feehngs of 
 mihtary loyalty, even a dog would be of importance if he 
 came in the king's name, gave prompt orders for securing 
 the goods in the hall, arming the servants, and defending 
 the house in case it should be necessary. Hazlewood 
 seconded him with great spirit, and even the strange an- 
 imal they call Sampson stalked out of his den, and seized 
 upon a fowhng-piece, which my father had laid aside, to 
 take what they call a rifle-gun, with which they shoot 
 tigers, &c. in the East. The piece went off in the awk- 
 ward hands of the poor parson, and very nearly shot one 
 of the excisemen. At this unexpected and involuntary 
 explosion of his weapon, the Dominie (such is his nick- 
 name) exclaimed, * Prodigious ! ' which is his usual ejacu^ 
 lation when astonished. But no power could force the 
 man lo part with his discharged piece, so they were con- 
 tent to let him retain it, with the precaution of trusting 
 him with no ammunition. This (excepting the alarm 
 
8 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 occasioned by the report) escaped my notice at the time, 
 you may easily beHeve ; but in talking over the scene 
 afterwards, Hazlewood made us very merry with the 
 Dominie's ignorant but zealous valour. 
 
 " When my father had got everything into proper 
 order for defence, and his people stationed at the windows 
 with their fire-arms, he wanted to order us out of danger 
 — ^into the cellar, I beHeve — but we could not be pre- 
 \ailed upon to stir. Though terrified to death, I have so 
 much of his own spirit, that I would look upon the peril 
 which tlu'eatens us, rather than hear it rage around me 
 without knowing its nature or its progress. Lucy, look- 
 ing as pale as a marble statue, and keeping her eyes fixed 
 on Hazlewood, seemed not even to hear the prayers with 
 which he conjured her to leave the front of the house. 
 But, in truth, unless the hall-door should be forced, we 
 were in little danger — the windows being almost blocked 
 up with cusliions and pillows, and, what the Dominie 
 most lamented, with folio volumes, brought hastily from 
 the hbrary, leaving only spaces through which the defend- 
 ers might fire upon the assailants. 
 
 " My father had now made his dispositions, and we sat 
 in breathless expectation in the darkened apartment, the 
 men remaining all silent upon their posts, in anxious con- 
 templation probably of the approaching danger. My 
 father, who was quite at home in such a scene, walked 
 from one to another, and reiterated his orders, that no one 
 should presume to fire until he gave the word. Hazle- 
 wood, who seemed to catch courage from his eye, acted 
 as Ms aide-de-camp, and displayed the utmost alertness in 
 bearing his directions from one place to another, and 
 seeing them properly carried into execution. Our force, 
 with the strangers include i, might amount to about twelve 
 men. 
 
GUT MANNERING. S 
 
 ** At length tlie silence of this awful period of expecta- 
 tion was broken by a sound, which, at a distance, was like 
 the rushing of a stream of water, but, as it approached, 
 we distinguished the thick-beating clang of a number of 
 horses advancing very fast. I had arranged a loop-hole 
 for myself, from which I could see the approach of the 
 enemy. The noise increased and came nearer, and at 
 length thirty horsemen and more rushed at once upon the 
 lawn. You never saw such horrid wretches ! Notwith- 
 standing the severity of the season, they were most of 
 them stripped to their shirts and trowsers, with silk hand- 
 kerchiefs knotted about their heads, and all well armed 
 with carbines, pistols, and cutlasses. I, who am a sol- 
 dier's daughter, and accustomed to see war jfrom my in- 
 fancy, was never so terrified in my life as by the savage 
 appearance of these rufl&ans, their horses reeking with the 
 speed at which they had ridden, and their furious excla- 
 mations of rage and disappointment when they saw" them- 
 selves baulked of their prey. They paused, however, 
 when they saw the preparations made to receive them, 
 and appeared to hold a moment's consultation among 
 themselves. At length, one of the party, his face black- 
 ened with gunpowder by way of disguise, came forward 
 with a white handkerchief on the end of his carbine, and 
 asked to speak with Colonel Mannering. My father, to 
 my infinite terror, threw open a window near which he 
 was posted, and demanded what he wanted. * We want 
 our goods, which we have been robbed of by these 
 sharks,' said the fellow ; * and our lieutenant bids me say, 
 that if they are delivered, we'll go off" for this bout with- 
 out clearing scores with the rascals who took them ; bui 
 if not, we'll bum the house, and have the heart's blood 
 Off every one in it ; ' — a threat which he repeated more 
 
10 "WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 than once, graced by a fresh variety of imprecations, and 
 the most horrid denunciations tliat cruelty could suggest. 
 
 " ' And which is your Heutenant ? ' said my father in 
 reply. 
 
 " ' That gentleman on the grey horse,' said the miscre*' 
 ant, * with the red handkerchief bound about his brow.' 
 
 " ' Then be pleased to tell that gentleman, that if he, 
 and the scoundrels who are with him, do not ride off the 
 lawn this instant, I will fire upon them without ceremony.' 
 So saying, my father shut the window, and broke short 
 the conference. 
 
 " The fellow no sooner regained his troop, than, with a 
 loud hurra, or rather a savage yell, they fired a volley 
 against our garrison. The glass of the windows was 
 shattered in every direction, but the precautions already 
 noticed saved the party within from suffering. Three 
 such volleys were fired without a shot being returned 
 from within. My father then observed them getting 
 hatchets and crows, probably to assail the hall door, and 
 called aloud, * Let none fire but Hazlewood and me — 
 Hazlewood, mark the ambassador ! ' He himself aimed 
 at the man on the grey horse, who fell on receiving his 
 shot. Hazlewood was equally successful. He shot the 
 spokesman, who had dismounted, and was advancing with 
 an axe in his hand. Their fall discouraged the rest, who 
 began to turn round their horses : and a few shots fired 
 at them soon sent them off, bearing along with them their 
 slain or wounded companions. We could not observe 
 that they suffered any farther loss. Shortly after their 
 retreat, a party of soldiers niade their appearance, to my 
 infinite rehef. These men were quartered at a village 
 some miles distant, and had marched on the first rumour 
 of the skirmish. A part of them escorte 1 the terrified 
 
GUY MANNERING. 11 
 
 revenue officers and their seizure to a neiglibouring sua- 
 port as a place of safety, and at my earnest request two 
 or three files remained with us for that and the following 
 day, for the security of the house from the vengeance of 
 these banditti. 
 
 " Such, dearest Matilda, was my first alarm. I must 
 not forget to add, that the ruffians left, at a cottage on 
 the road-side, the man whose face was blackened with 
 powder, apparently because he was unable to bear trans- 
 portation. He died in about half an hour after. On ex- 
 amining the corpse, it proved to be that of a profligate 
 boor in the neighbom-hood, a person notorious as a poacher 
 and smuggler. We received many messages of congrat- 
 ulation from the neighbouring families, and it was gener- 
 ally allowed that a few such instances of spirited resistance 
 would greatly check the presumption of these lawless 
 men. My father distributed rewards among his servants, 
 and praised Hazlewood's courage and coolness to the 
 skies. Lucy and I came in for a share of his applause, 
 because we had stood fire with firmness, and had not dis- 
 turbed him with screams or expostulations. As for the 
 Dominie, my father took an opportunity of begging to 
 exchange snuff-boxes with him. The honest gentleman 
 was much flattered with the proposal, and extolled the 
 beauty of his new snuff-box excessively. * It looked,' he 
 said ' as well as if it were real gold from Ophir.' Indeed 
 it would be odd if it should not, being formed in fact of 
 thai very metal ; but, to do this honest creature justice, I 
 believe the knowledge of its real value would not enhance 
 his sense of my father's kindness, supposing it, as he does, 
 ♦o be pinchbeck gilded. He has had a hard task re- 
 placing the folios which were used in the barricade, 
 imootbing out the creases and dogs-ears, and repairing 
 
12 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the other disasters they have sustained during their sei- 
 vice in the fortification. He brought us some pieces of 
 lead and bullets, which these ponderous tomes had inter- 
 cepted during the action, and which he had extracted 
 with great care ; and, were I in spirits, I could give you 
 a comic account of his astonishment at the apathy -with 
 which we heard of the wounds and mutilation suffered by 
 Thomas Aquinas, or the venerable Chiysostom. But I 
 am not in spirits, and I have yet another and a more in- 
 teresting incident to communicate. I feel, however, so 
 much fatigued with my present exertion, that I cannot 
 resume the pen till to-morrow. I will detain this letter, 
 notwithstanding, that you may not feel any anxiety upon 
 account of your own 
 
 "Julia Mannering.'* 
 
GUY MANNEKLNG. 18 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Here's a good world I 
 
 Knew you of this faJr work? 
 
 King John. 
 
 JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMONT. 
 
 " I MUST take up the thread of my story, my dearest 
 Matilda, where I broke off yesterday. 
 
 *' For two or three days we talked of nothing but our 
 siege and its probable consequences, and dinned into my 
 father's unwiUing ears a proposal to go to Edinburgh, or 
 at least to Dumfries, where there is remarkably good 
 society, until the resentment of these outlaws should blow 
 over. He answered, with great composure, that he had 
 no mind to have his landlord's house and his own prop- 
 erty at Woodbourne destroyed ; that, with our good leave, 
 he had usually been esteemed competent to taking mea- 
 sures for the safety or protection of his family ; that if 
 he remained quiet at home, he conceived the welcome the 
 villains had received was not of a nature to invite a second 
 visit, but should he shew any signs of alarm, it would be 
 the sure way to incur the very risk which we were afraid 
 of. Heartened by his arguments, and by the extreme 
 indifference with which he treated the supposed danger, 
 we began to gi'ow a little bolder, and to walk about as 
 usual. Only the gentlemen were sometimes invited to 
 
M fVxlVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 take their guiii^ when they attended us ; and I observed 
 that my father for several nights paid particular attention 
 to having the house properly secured, and required his 
 domestics to keep then- ai-ms in readiness in case of ne- 
 cessity. 
 
 " But three days ago chanced an occurrence, of a 
 nature which alarmed me more by far than the attack of 
 the smuojojlers. 
 
 " I told you there was a small lake at some distance 
 from Woodbourne, where the gentlemen sometimes go to 
 shoot wild-fowL I happened at breakfast to say I should 
 like to see this place in its present frozen state, occupied 
 by skaters and curlers, as they call those who play a par- 
 ticular sort of game upon the ice. There is snow on the 
 gi'ound, but frozen so hard that I thought Lucy and I 
 might venture to that distance, as the footpath leading 
 there was well beaten by the repair of those who fre- 
 quented it for pastime. Hazlewood instantly offered to 
 attend us, and we stipulated that he should take his fowl- 
 ing piece. He laughed a good deal at the idea of going 
 a-shooting in the snow ; but, to reheve our tremors, 
 desired that a groom, who acts as gamekeeper occasion- 
 ally, should follow us with his gun. As for Colonel Man- 
 nering, he does not Mke crowds or sights of any kind 
 where human figures make up the show, unless indeed it 
 were a military review — so he declined the party. 
 
 " We set out unusually early, on a fine frosty, exhila- 
 rating morning, and we felt our minds, as well as our 
 nerves, braced by the elasticity of the pure air. Our 
 wallt to the lake was delightful, or at least the difiiculties 
 were only such as diverted us, — a slippery descent, for 
 instance, or a frozen ditch to cross, — which made Hazle- 
 wood's assistance absolutely necessary. I don't think 
 
GUY MANNER LNG. 15 
 
 Lucy liked her walk the less for these occasional embar 
 rassments. 
 
 " The scene upon the lake was beautiful. One side of 
 it is bordered by a steep crag, from which hung a thou- 
 sand enormous icicles, all glittering in the sun ; on the 
 other side was a httle wood, now exhibiting that fantastic 
 appearance which the pine trees present when their 
 branches are loaded with snow. On the frozen bosom 
 of the lake itself were a multitude of moving Ggures, 
 some flitting along with the velocity of swallows, some 
 sweeping in the most graceful circles, and others deeply 
 interested in a less active pastime, crowding round the 
 spot where the inhabitants of two rival parishes contended 
 for the prize at curling, — an honour of no small importance, 
 if we were to judge from the anxiety expressed both by 
 the players and bystanders. We walked round the httle 
 lake, supported by Hazlewood, who lent us each an arm. 
 He spoke, poor fellow, with great kindness, to old and 
 young, and seemed deservedly popular among the assem- 
 bled crowd. At length we thought of retu-ing. 
 
 " Why do I mention these trivial occurrences ? — not, 
 Heaven knows, from the interest I can now attach to 
 them — but because, like a drowning man who catches at 
 a brittle twig, I seize every apology for delaying the 
 subsequent and dreadful part of my narrative. But it 
 nmst be communicated — I must have the sympathy of at 
 least one friend under this heart-rending calamity. 
 
 " We were returning home by a footpath which led 
 through a plantation of firs. Lucy had quitted Hazle- 
 wood's arm — it is only the plea of absolute necessity 
 which reconciles her to accept his assistance. I still 
 leaned upon his other arm. Lucy followed us close, and 
 the servant was two or three paces behind us. Such was 
 
16 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 our position, wJien at once, and as if he had started out of 
 the earth, Brown stood before us at a short turn of the 
 road! He was very plainly, I might say coarsely, 
 dressed, and his whole appearance had in it something 
 wild and agitated. I screamed between surprise and 
 terror — Hazlewood mistook the nature of my alarm, and, 
 when Brown advanced towards me as if to speak, com- 
 manded him haughtily to stand back, and not to alarm 
 the lady. Brown repUed, with equal asperity, he had no 
 occasion to take lessons from him how to behave to that 
 or any other lady. I rather believe that Hazlewood, im- 
 pressed with the idea that he belonged to the band of 
 smugglers, and had some bad purpose in view, heard and 
 understood him imperfectly. He snatched the gun from 
 the servant, who had come up on a line with us, and, 
 pointing the muzzle at Brown, commanded him to stand 
 off at his peril. My screams, for my terror prevented 
 my finding articulate language, only hastened the catas- 
 trophe. Brown, thus menaced, sprung upon Hazlewood, 
 grappled with him, and had nearly succeeded in WTcnch- 
 ing the fowling-piece from his grasp, when the gun went 
 off in the struggle, and the contents were lodged in 
 Hazlewood's shoulder, who instantly fell. I saw no 
 more, for the whole scene reeled before my eyes, and I 
 fainted away ; but, by Lucy's report, the unhappy perpe- 
 trator of this action gazed a moment on the scene before 
 him, until her screams began to alarm the people upon 
 the lake, several of whom now came in sight. He then 
 bounded over a hedge which divided the footpath from 
 the plantation, and has not since been heard of. The 
 servant made no attempt to stop or secure him, and the 
 report he made of the matter to those who came up to us, 
 induced them rather to exercise their humanity in recall- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 17 
 
 ing me to life, than show their courage by p irsuiug a 
 desperado, described by the groom as a man of tremendous 
 personal strength, and completely armed. 
 
 " Hazlewood was conveyed home, — that is, to TVood- 
 bourne, in safety ; I trust his wound will prove in no 
 respect dangerous, though he suffers much. But to 
 BroAvn the consequences must be most disastrous. He 
 is already the object of my father's resentment, and he 
 has now incurred danger from the law of the country, as 
 well as from the clamorous vengeance of the father of 
 Hazlewood, who threatens to move heaven and earth 
 against the author of his son's wound. How will he be 
 able to shroud himself from the vindictive activity of the 
 pursuit ? — how to defend himself, if taken, against the 
 severity of laws which I am told may even affect his life ? 
 and how can I find means to warn him of his danger ? 
 Then poor Lucy's ill-concealed grief, occasioned by her 
 lover's wound, is another source of distress to me, and 
 everything round me appears to bear witness against that 
 indiscretion which has occasioned this calamity. 
 
 " For two days I was very ill indeed. The news that 
 Hazlewood was recovering, and that the person who had 
 shot him was nowhere to be traced, only that for certain 
 he was one of the leaders of the gang of smugglers, gave 
 me fiome comfort. The suspicion and pursuit being 
 directed towards those people, must naturally facilitate 
 Brown's escape, and, I trust, has ere this insured it. 
 But patrols of horse and foot traverse the country in 
 all directions, and I am tortured by a thousand con- 
 fused and unauthenticated rumours of arrests and dis- 
 coveries. 
 
 *' Meanwhile, my greatest source of comfort is the 
 generous candour of Hazlewood, who persists in declar- 
 
18 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 ing, that with whatever intentions the person by whom 
 he was wounded approached our party, he is convinced 
 the gun went off in the struggle by accident, and that the 
 injury he received was undesigned. The groom, on the 
 other hand, maintains that the piece was wrenched (mt of 
 Hazlewood's hands, and dehberately pointed at his body, 
 — and Lucy inchnes to the same opinion. I do not 
 suspect them of wih^'ul exaggeration; yet such is the 
 fallacy of human testimony, for the unhappy shot was 
 most unquestionably discharged unintentionally. Per- 
 haps it would be the best way to confide the whole 
 secret to Hazlewood — but he is very young, and I feel 
 the utmost repugnance to communicate to him my folly. 
 I once thought of disclosing the mystery to Lucy, and 
 began by asking what she recollected of the person and 
 features of the man whom we had so unfortunately met ; 
 — ^but she ran out into such a horrid description of a 
 hedge-ruffian, that I was deprived of all courage and dis- 
 position to own my attachment to one of such appearance 
 as she attributed to him. I must say Miss Bertram is 
 strangely biassed by her prepossessions, for there are few 
 handsomer men than poor Brown. I had not seen him 
 for a long time ; and even in his strange and sudden 
 Apparition on this unhappy occasion, and under every 
 disadvantage, his form seems to me, on reflection, im- 
 proved in grace, and his features in expressive dignity. — • 
 Shall we ever meet again ? Who can answer that ques- 
 tion? — Write to me kindly, my dearest Matilda — But 
 when did you otherwise ? — Yet, again, write to me soon, 
 and write to me kindly. I am not in a situation to profit 
 by advice or reproof, nor have I my usual spirits to parry 
 them by raillery. I feel the terrors of a child who has, 
 in heedless sport, put in motion some powerful piece of 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 19 
 
 machinery ; and, while he beholds wheels revolving^ 
 chains clashing, cylinders rolling around him, is equally 
 astonished at the tremendous powers which his weak 
 agency has called into action, and terrified for the conse- 
 quences which he is compelled to await, without the 
 possibility of averting them. 
 
 •' I must not omit to say that my father is very kind 
 and affectionate. The alarm which I have received forma 
 a sufficient apology for my nervous complaints. My 
 hopes are, that Brown has made his escape into the sister 
 kingdom of England, or perhaps to Ireland, or the Isle 
 of Man. In either case, he may wait the issue of Hazle- 
 wood's wound with safety and with patience, for the com- 
 munication of these countries with Scotland for the 
 purpose of justice, is not (thank Heaven) of an intimate 
 nature. The consequences of his being apprehended 
 would be terrible at this moment. — I endeavour to 
 strengthen my mind by arguing against the possibility 
 of such a calamity. Alas ! how soon have sorrows and 
 fears, real as well as severe, followed the uniform and 
 tranquil state of existence at which so lately I was dis- 
 posed to repine ! But I will not oppress you any longer 
 with my complaints. Adieu, my dearest Matilda I 
 
 " JULTA MaNNERING." 
 
WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXn. 
 
 A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. — Look with thine earsi 
 See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark in thine ear — Change 
 places ; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? 
 
 King Leae. 
 
 Among those who took the most Hvelj interest in 
 endeavouring to discover the person by whom young 
 Charles Hazlewood had been waylaid and wounded, was 
 
 Gilbert Glossin, Esquire, late writer in , now Laii-d 
 
 of EUangowan, and one of the worshipful commission of 
 justices of the peace for the county of . His mo- 
 tives for exertion on this occasion were manifold ; but we 
 presume that our readers, from what they already know 
 of this gentleman, will acquit him of being actuated by 
 any zealous or intemperate love of abstract justice. 
 
 The truth was, that this respectable personage fel( 
 himself less at ease than he had expected, after his 
 machinations put him in possession of his benefactor's 
 estate. His reflections within doors, where so much 
 occurred to remind Mm of former times, were not always 
 the self-congratulations of successful stratagem. And 
 when he looked abroad, he could not but be sensible that 
 he was excluded from the society of the gentry of the 
 comity, to whose rank he conceived he had raised him- 
 self. He was not admitted to their clubs ; and at meet- 
 ings of a public nature, from which he could not be 
 
GUY MANNERING. 21 
 
 dltogetlier excluded, lie found himself thwarted and 
 looked upon with coldness and contempt. Both princijDle 
 and prejudice co-operated in creatmg this dislike ; for 
 the gentlemen of the county despised him for the lowness 
 of his birth, while they hated him for the means by which 
 he had raised his fortune. With the common people his 
 reputation stood still worse. They would neither yield 
 him the territorial appellation of Ellangowan, nor the 
 usual comphment of Mr. Giossin ; — with them he was 
 bare Giossin ; and so incredibly was his vanity interested 
 by this trifling circumstance, that he was known to give 
 half-a-crown to a beggar because he had thrice calleci 
 him Ellangowan, in beseeching him for a penny. He 
 therefore felt acutely the general want of respect, and 
 particularly when he contrasted his own character and 
 reception in society with those of JVIr. Mac-Morlan, who, 
 in far inferior worldly cu'cumstances, was beloved and 
 respected both by rich and poor, and was slowly but 
 securely laying the foundation of a moderate fortune, 
 with the general good-will and esteem of all who knew 
 him. 
 
 Giossin, while he repined internally at what he would 
 fain have called the prejudices and prepossessions of the 
 country, was too wise to make any open complaint. He 
 was sensible his elevation was too recent to be imme- 
 diately forgotten, and the means by which he had attained 
 it too odious to be soon forgiven. But time (thought he) 
 diminishes wonder and paUiates misconduct. With the 
 dexterity, therefore, of one who made his fortune by study- 
 ing the weak points of human nature, he determined to 
 lie by for opportunities to make himself useful even to 
 those wlio most dishked him ; trusting that his own 
 abilities, the disposition of country gentlemen to get into 
 
22 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 quaiTels, when a lawyer's advice becomes precious, and 
 a thousand other contingencies, of which, with patience 
 and address, he doubted not to be able to avail himself, 
 would soon place him in a more important and respectable 
 light to his neighbours, and perhaps raise him to the emi- 
 nence sometimes attained by a shrewd, worldly, busthng 
 man of business, when, settled among a generation of 
 country gentlemen, he becomes, in Burns's language, 
 
 The tongue of the trump to them a'.* 
 
 The attack on Colonel Mannering's house, followed by 
 the accident of Hazlewood's wound, appeared to Glossin 
 a proper opportunity to impress upon the country at large 
 the service which could be rendered by an active magis- 
 trate (for he had been in the commission for some 
 time), well acquainted with the law, and no less so with 
 the haunts and habits of the illicit traders. He had 
 acquired the latter kind of experience by a former close 
 alliance with some of the most desperate smugglers, in 
 consequence of which he had occasionally acted, some- 
 times as paitner, sometimes as legal adviser, with these 
 persons. But the connexion had been dropped many 
 years ; nor, considering how short the race of eminent 
 characters of this description, and the frequent circum- 
 stances which occur to make them retire from particular 
 scenes of action, had he the least reason to think that his 
 present researches could possibly compromise any old 
 friend who might possess means of retahation. The 
 having been concerned in these practices abstractedly, 
 was a circumstance which, according to his ojjinion, 
 ought in no respect to interfere with his now using his 
 
 * The tongue of the trump is the wire of the Jew's harp, that 
 which gives sound to the whole instrument. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 23 
 
 experience in behalf of the public, — or rather to further 
 his own private views. To acquire the good opinion and 
 countenance of Colonel Mannering, would be no small 
 object to a gentleman who was much disposed to escape 
 from Coventry ; and to gain the favour of old Hazlewood, 
 who was a leading man in the county, was of more im- 
 portance still. Lastly, if he should succeed in discovering, 
 apprehending, and convicting the culprits, he would have 
 the satisfaction of mortifying, and in some degree dis- 
 paraging Mac-Morlan, to whom, as Sheriff-substitute of 
 the county, this sort of investigation properly belonged, 
 and who would certainly suffer in pubhc opinion, should 
 the voluntary exertions of Glossiu be more successful 
 than his own. 
 
 Actuated by motives so stimulating, and well acquainted 
 with the lower retainers of the law, Glossin set every 
 spring in motion to detect and apprehend, if possible, 
 some of the gang who had attacked Woodbourne, and 
 more particularly the individual who had wounded 
 Charles Hazlewood. He promised high rewards, he 
 suggested various schemes, and used his personal interest 
 among his old acquaintances who favoured the trade, 
 urging that they had better make sacrifice of an under- 
 strapper or two, than incur the odium of having favoured 
 such atrocious proceedings. But for some time all these 
 exertions were in vain. The common people of the 
 country either favoured or feared the smugglers too much 
 to afford any evidence against them. At length, this 
 busy magistrate obtained information, that a man, having 
 the dress and appearance of the person who had wounded 
 Hazlewood, had lodged on the evening before the ren- 
 contre at the Gordon-Arms in Kippletrmgan. Thither 
 Mr. Glossin immediately went, for the purpose of inter* 
 Wgating our old acquaintance, Mrs. Mac-CandHsh. 
 
24 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 The reader may remember that Mr. Glossin did not, 
 according to this good woman's phrase, stand liigh in her 
 books. She therefore attended his summons to the par- 
 lour slowly and reluctantly, and, on entering the room, 
 paid her respects in the coldest possible manner. The 
 dialogue then proceeded as follows : — 
 
 " A fine frosty morning, Mrs. Mac-Candlish." 
 
 " Ay, sir ; the morning's weel eneugh," answered the 
 landlady, drily. 
 
 " Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I wish to know if the justices are 
 to dine here as usual after the business of the court on 
 Tuesday?" 
 
 "I believe — I fancy sae, sir — as usual" — (about to 
 leave the room.) 
 
 " Stay a moment, Mrs. Mac-Candlish — why, you are 
 in a prodigious hurry, my good friend ! I have been 
 thinking a club dining here once a month would be a 
 very pleasant thing." 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; a club of respectable gentlemen." 
 
 " True, true," said Glossin, " I mean landed proprie- 
 tors and gentlemen of weight in the county ; and I should 
 like to set such a thing a-going." 
 
 The short diy cough with which Mrs. Mac-Candlish 
 received this proposal, by no means indicated any dishke 
 to the overture abstractedly considered, but inferred much 
 doubt how far it would succeed under the auspices of the 
 gentleman by whom it was proposed. It was not a cough 
 negative, but a cough dubious, and as such Glossin felt it ; 
 but it was not his cue to take offence. 
 
 " Have there been brisk doings on the road, Mrs. Mac- 
 Candlish ? plenty of company, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Pretty weel, sir, — but I believe I am wanted at the 
 bar." 
 
GUT MANNERING. 25 
 
 " No, no, — stop one moment, cannot you, to oblige an 
 old customer? Praj, do you remember a remarkably 
 tall young man, who lodged one night in your house last 
 week?" 
 
 "Troth, sir, I canna weel say — I never take heed 
 wliether my company be lang or short, if tliey make a 
 lang bill." 
 
 '" And if they do not, you can do that for them, eh, 
 IMrs. Mac-Candlish ? — ha ! ha ! ha 1 — But this young man 
 that I inquire after was upwards of six feet high, had a 
 dark frock, with metal buttons, light-brown hair unpow- 
 dered, blue eyes, and a straight nose, travelled oti foot, 
 had no servant or baggage — you surely can remember 
 having seen such a traveller ? " 
 
 "Indeed, sir," answered Mrs. Mac-Candhsh, bent on 
 baffling his inquiries, " I canna charge my memory about 
 the matter — there's mair to do in a house hke this, I trow, 
 than to look after passengers' hair, or their een, or noses 
 either." 
 
 " Then, Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I must tell you in plain 
 terms, that this person is suspected of having been guilty 
 of a crime ; and it is in consequence of these suspicions 
 that I, as a magistrate, require this information from you 
 — and if you refuse to answer my questions, I must put 
 you upon your oath." 
 
 " Troth, sir, I am no free to swear* — we ay gaed to 
 the Antiburgher meeting — it's very true, in Bailie Mae- 
 Candlish's time (honest man) we keepit the kirk, whilk 
 was most seemingly in his station, as having office — but 
 afi er his being called to a better place than Kippletringan, 
 I hae gaen back to worthy Maister Mac-Grainer. And 
 
 * Some of the strict dissenters decline taking an oath before a civil 
 magistrate. 
 
26 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 SO ye see, sir, I am no clear to swear without speaking to 
 the minister — especiallj against ony sackless puir young 
 fhing that's gaun through the countiy, stranger and 
 freendless like." 
 
 " I shall relieve your scruples, perhaps, without troub- 
 ling Mr. Mac-Grainer, when I tell you that this fellow 
 whom I inquire after is the man who shot your young 
 fi'iend Charles Hazlewood." 
 
 '• Gudeness ! wha could hae thought the like o' that o' 
 him ? — Xa, if it had been for debt, or e'en for a bit tuilzie 
 wi' the gauger, the deil o' Xelly Mac-Candlish's tongue 
 should ever hae wranged him. But if he really shot 
 young Hazlewood — But I canna think it, i\Ir. Glossin ; 
 this will be some o' your skits * now — I canna think it o' 
 sae douce a lad ; — na, na, this is just some o' your auld 
 skits — ye'll be for having a horning or a caption after 
 him." 
 
 "I see you have no confidence in me, Mrs. Mac- 
 Candhsh ; but look at these declarations, signed by the 
 persons who saw the crime committed, and judge your- 
 self if the description of the ruffian be not that of your 
 guest." 
 
 He put the papers into her hand, which she perused 
 very carefully, often takiug off her spectacles to cast her 
 eyes up to heaven, or perhaps to Avipe a tear from them, 
 for young Hazlewood was an especial favourite with the 
 good dame. " Aweel, aweel," she said, when she had 
 concluded her examination, " since it's e'en sae, I gie him 
 up, the villain — But O, we are erring mortals ! — I neve? 
 saw a face I liked better, or a lad that was mair douce 
 and canny — I thought he had been some gentleman under 
 trouble. — But I gie him up, the villain ! — to shoot Chaidea 
 * Tricks. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 27 
 
 Hazlewood —and before the young ladies, — ^poor Innocent 
 things ! — I gie him up." 
 
 " So you admit, then, that such a person lodged here 
 the night before this vile business ? " 
 
 " Troth did he, sir, and a' the house were taen wi' him, 
 he was sic a frank, pleasant young man. It wasna for 
 his spending, I'm sure, for he just had a mutton-chop, 
 and a mug of ale, and maybe a glass or twa o' wine — - 
 and I asked him to drink tea wi' mysell, and didna put 
 that into the bill ; and he took nae supper, for he said he 
 was defeat wi' travel a' the night afore — I dare sae now 
 it liad been on some helHcat errand or other." 
 
 " Did you by any chance learn his name ? " 
 
 " I wot weel did I," said the landlady, now as eager to 
 communicate her evidence as formerly desirous to sup- 
 press it. " He tell'd me his name was Brown, and he 
 said it was likely that an auld woman like a gipsy wife 
 might be asking for him. Ay, ay ! tell me your company, 
 and I'll tell you wha ye are ! O the villain ! — Aweel, sir, 
 when he gaed away in the morning, he paid his bill very 
 honestly and gae something to the chambermaid, nae 
 doubt, for Grizy has naething frae me, by twa pair o' new 
 shoon, ilka year, and maybe a bit compliment at Hansel 
 Monanday " Here Glossin found it necessary to inter- 
 fere, and bring the good woman back to the point. 
 
 " Ou then, he just said, if there comes such a person 
 to inquire after Mr. Brown, you will say I am gone to 
 look at the skaters on Loch Creeran, as you call it, and 1 
 will be back here to dinner — But he never came back — ■ 
 though I expected him sae faithfully, that I gae a look to 
 making the friar's chicken myseli, and to the crappit-heads 
 too, and that's what I dinna do for ordinary, Mr. Glossin 
 . — But little did I think what skating wark he was gauu 
 about — to shoot JMi*. Charles, the innocent lamb I " 
 
28 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Mr. Glossin, having, like a prudent examinator, suffered 
 his witness to give vent to all her surprise and indignation, 
 now began to inquire whether the suspected person had 
 left any property or papers about the inn. 
 
 "Troth, he put a parcel — a sma' parcel, under my 
 charge, and he gave me some siller, and desired me to get 
 him half-a-dozen ruffled sarks, and Peg Pasley's in hands 
 wi' them e'en now — they may serve him to gang up the 
 Lawn-market* in, the scoundi-el!" Mr. Glossin then 
 demanded to see the packet, but here mine hostess 
 demurred. 
 
 " She didna ken — she wad not say but justice should 
 take its course — but when a thing was trusted to ane in 
 her way, doubtless they were responsible — but she suld 
 cry in Deacon Bearcliff, and if Mr. Glossin liked to tak 
 an inventar o' the property, and gie her a receipt before 
 the Deacon — or, what she wad hke muckle better, an it 
 could be sealed up and left in Deacon Bearcliff 's hands, 
 it wad mak her mind easy — she was for naething but 
 justice on a' sides." 
 
 Mrs. Mac-Candlish's natural sagacity and acquired 
 suspicion being inflexible, Glossin sent for Deacon Bear- 
 cliff, to speak " anent the villain that had shot Mr. Charles 
 Hazlewood." The Deacon accordingly made his appear- 
 ance, with his wig awry, owing to the hurry with which, 
 at this summons of the Justice, he had exchanged it for 
 the Kilmarnock-cap in which he usually attended liis 
 customers. Mrs. Mac-Candlish then produced the parcel 
 
 * The procession of the crimhials to the gallows of old took that 
 direction, moving, as the schoolboy rhyme had it — 
 Up the Lawnmarket, 
 Down the West Bow, 
 Up the lang ladder, 
 And down the little tow. 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 29 
 
 deposited witli her by Brown, in wliicli was found the 
 gipsy's purse. On perceiving the value of the miscella- 
 neous contents, Mrs. Mac-Candlish internally congrat- 
 ulated herself upon the precautions she had taken before 
 delivering them up to Glossin, while he, with an appear- 
 ance of disinterested candour, was the first to propose 
 they should be properly inventoried, and deposited with 
 Deacon Bearcliff, until they should be sent to the Crown- 
 office. " He did not," he observed, " like to be personally 
 responsible for articles which seemed of considerable 
 value, and had doubtless been acquired by the most 
 nefarious practices." 
 
 He then examined the paper in which the purse had 
 been wrapt up. It was the back of a letter addressed to 
 V. Brown, Esquire, but the rest of the address was torn 
 away. The landlady, — now as eager to throw hght upon 
 the criminal's escape as she had formerly been desirous 
 of withholding it, for the miscellaneous contents of the 
 purse argued strongly to her mind that all was not right, 
 — Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I say, now gave Glossin to under- 
 stand, that her postilion and hostler had both seen the 
 stranger upon the ice that day when young Hazlewood 
 was wounded. 
 
 Our reader's old acquaintance, Jock Jabos, was first 
 summoned, and admitted frankly that he had seen and 
 conversed upon the ice that morning with a stranger, who, 
 he understood, had lodged at the Gordon- Arms the night 
 before. 
 
 " What turn did your conversation take ? " said Glossin. 
 
 " Tuin ? — ou, we turned nae gate at a', but just keepit 
 straight forward upon the ice like." 
 
 " Well, but what did ye speak about ? " 
 
 " Ou, he just asked questions like ony ither stranger," 
 
30 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 answered the postilion, possessed, as it seemed, with the 
 refractory and uncommunicative spirit Avhich had left his 
 mistress. 
 
 " But about what ? " said Glossin. 
 
 " Ou, just about the folk that was playing at the curl- 
 ing, and about auld Jock Stevenson that was at the cock, 
 and about the leddies, and sic like." 
 
 "What ladies ? and what did he ask about them, 
 Joi,'k ? " said the interrogator. 
 
 " What leddies ? ou, it was Miss Jowha Mannering 
 and Miss Lucy Bertram, that ye ken fu' weel yoursell, 
 Mr. Glossin — they were walking wi' the young Laird of 
 Hazlewood upon the ice." 
 
 " And what did you teU him about them ? " demanded 
 Glossin. 
 
 " Tut, we just said that was ]\Iiss Lucy Bertram of 
 EUangowan, that should ance have had a great estate in 
 the country, — and that was Miss Jowlia Mannering, that 
 was to be married to young Hazlewood — See as she was 
 hinging on his arm. We just spoke about our country 
 clashes like — he was a very frank man." 
 
 " Well, and what did he say in answer ?" 
 
 " Oil, he just stared at the young leddies very keen 
 like, and asked if it was for certain that the marriage was 
 to be between oMiss Mannering and young Hazlewood— 
 and I answered him that it was for positive and absolute 
 certain, as I liad an undoubted right to say sae — for my 
 lljird cousin Jean Clavers (she's a relation o' your ain, 
 ISIr. Glossin — ye wad ken Jean lang syne ?) she's sib to 
 the housekeeper at Woodbourne, and she's tell'd me mair 
 than ance that there was naething could be mair likely." 
 
 " And what did the stranger say when you told him all 
 Uiis .'* " said Glossin. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 31 
 
 " Say ? " echoed the postilion, " he said naething at a*— ■ 
 he just stared at them as they walked round the loch upon 
 the ice, as if he could have eaten them, and he never took 
 his ee aff them, or said another word, or gave another 
 glance at the Bonspiel, though there was the finest fim 
 amang the curlers ever was seen — and he turned round 
 and gaed aiF the loch by the kirk-stile tiTough Wood- 
 bourne fir-plantings, and we saw nae mair o' him." 
 
 " Only think," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, " what a hard 
 heart he maun hae had, to think o' hurting the poor young 
 gentleman m the very presence of the leddy he was to be 
 married to ! " 
 
 " O, JNIrs. Mac-Candlish," said Glossin, " there's been 
 many cases such as that on the record : doubtless he was 
 seeking revenge where it would be deepest and sweetest." 
 
 "God pity us!" said Deacon Bearcliff; "we're puir 
 frail creatures when left to ours ells ! — ay, he forgot wha 
 said, ' Vengeance is mine, and I will repay it.' " 
 
 " Weel, aweel, sirs," said Jabos, whose hard-headed and 
 uncultivated shrewdness seemed sometimes to start the 
 game when others beat the bush — " weel, weel, ye may 
 be a' mista'en yet — I'll never believe that a man would 
 lay a plan to shoot another wi' his ain gun. Lord help 
 ye, I was the keeper's assistant down at the Isle mysell, 
 and I'll uphaud it, the biggest man in Scotland shouldna 
 take a gun frae me or I had weized the slugs through 
 him, though I'm but sic a little feckless body, fit for 
 naething but the outside o' a saddle and the fore-end o' a 
 poschay — na, na, nae living man wad venture on that, 
 ril wad my best buckskins, and they were new coft at 
 Kirkcudbright fair, it's been a chance job after a'. But 
 if ye hae naething mair to say to me, I am thinking I 
 
 maun gang and see my beasts fed " and he departed 
 
 accordingly. 
 
32 •WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 The hostler, who had accompanied him, gave evidence 
 to the same purpose. He and Mrs. Mac-Candhsh were 
 then re-interrogated, whether Brown had no arms with 
 him on that unhappy morning. " None," they said, " but 
 an ordinary bit cutlass or hanger by his side." 
 
 " Now," said the Deacon, taking Glossin by the button, 
 (for, in considering this intricate subject, he had forgot 
 Glossin's new accession of rank) — " this is but doubtfu' 
 after a', Maister Gilbert — for it was not sae dooms likely 
 that he would go down into battle wi' sic sma' means." 
 
 Glossin extricated himself from the Deacon's grasp, 
 and from the discussion, though not with rudeness ; for it 
 was his present interest to buy golden opinions from all 
 sorts of people. He inquired the price of tea and sugar, 
 and spoke of providing himself for the year ; he gave 
 Mrs. Mac-Candlish directions to have a handsome enter- 
 tainment in readiness for a party of five friends, whom he 
 intended to invite to dine with him at the Gordon- Arms 
 next Saturday week ; and, lastly, he gave a half-crown to 
 Jock Jabos, whom the hostler had deputed to hold his 
 steed. 
 
 " Weel," said the Deacon to Mrs. Mac-Candlish, as he 
 accepted her offer of a glass of bitters at the bar, " the 
 deil's no sae ill as he's ca'd. It's pleasant to see a gentle- 
 man pay the regard to the business o' the county that 
 Mr. Glossin does." 
 
 " Ay, 'deed is't. Deacon," answered the landlady ; " and 
 yel I wonder our gentry leave their ain wark to the like 
 o' him. — But as lang as siller's current. Deacon, folk 
 mauna look ower nicely at what king's head's on't." 
 
 " I doubt Glossin will prove but shand* after a', mis- 
 tress,''^ said Jabos, as he passed through the little lobby 
 beside the bar ; " but this is a gude half-crown ony way.'* 
 * Cant expression for base coin. 
 
GUT IVIANNERING. 33 
 
 CHAPTER XXXin. 
 
 A man that apprehends death to be no more dreadful but as a drunken 
 Bleep; careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, or to oome, 
 insensible of mortality, and desperately mortal. 
 
 Measuee for Measure. 
 
 Glossik had made careful minutes of the information 
 deriv-ed from these examinations. They threw little light 
 upon the stoiy, so far as he understood its purport ; but 
 the better informed reader has received, through means 
 of this investigation, an account of Brown's proceedings, 
 between the moment when we left him upon his walk to 
 Kippletringan, and the time when, stung by jealousy, h« 
 so rashly and unhappily presented himself before Julia 
 Mannering, and well-nigh brought to a fatal termination 
 the quarrel which his appearance occasioned. 
 
 Glossin rode slowly back to EUangowan, pondering on 
 what he had heard, and more and more convinced that 
 the active and successful prosecution of this mysterious 
 business was an opportunity of ingratiating himself with 
 Ilazlewood and Mannering, to be on no account neglected. 
 Perhaps, also, he felt his professional acuteness interested 
 in bringing it to a successful close. It was, therefore, 
 with great pleasure that on his return to his house from 
 Kippletringan, he heard his servants announce hastily, 
 *' that Mac-Guffog, the thief-taker, and twa or three 3on- 
 currenls, had a man in hands in the kitchen waiting for 
 his honour." 
 
34 "SVAYEELET XOYELS. 
 
 He instantly jumped from horseback, and hastened into 
 the house. " Send my clerk here directly ; ye'll find him 
 copying the survey of the estate in the little green jDarlour. 
 Set things to rights in my study, and wheel the great 
 leathern chair up to the writing-table — set a stool for ]\Ir. 
 Scrow. — Scrow," (to the clerk as he entered the presence- 
 chamber,) " hand down Sir George Mackenzie on Crimes ; 
 open it at the section Vis Puhlica et Privata, and fold 
 down a leaf at the passage 'anent the bearing of unlaAvful 
 weapons.' Now lend me a hand off with my muckle- 
 coat, and hang it up in the lobby, and bid them bring up 
 the prisoner — I trow I'll sort him ; — but stay — ^first send 
 up Mac-Guffog. — Now, Mac-Guffog, where did ye find 
 this chield ? " 
 
 Mac-Guffog, a stout bandy-legged fellow, with a neck 
 like a bull, a face like a fire-brand, and a most portentous 
 gquint of the left eye, began, after various contortions by 
 way of courtesy to the Justice, to tell his story, eking it 
 out by sundiy sly nods and knowing winks, which ap- 
 peared to bespeak an intimate correspondence of ideas 
 between the narrator and his principal auditor. " Your 
 honour sees I went down to yon place that your honour 
 spoke o', that's kept by her that your honour kens o' by 
 the sea-side. — So says she, what are you wanting here ? 
 ye'll be come wi' a broom in your pocket frae Ellan- 
 gowan ? — So says I, deil a broom will come frae the re 
 awa, for ye ken, says I, his honour Ellangowan hiiasell 
 in former times " 
 
 " Well, well," said Glossin, " no occasion to be par- 
 ticular — tell the essentials." 
 
 " Weel, so we sat niffering about some brandy that I 
 said I wanted, till he came in." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
GUT MANNERING. 35 
 
 " He," pointing with his thumb inverted to the kitchen, 
 where the prisoner was in custody. " So he had his 
 griego wrapped close round him, and I judged he was not 
 dry-handed* — so I thought it was best to speak proper, 
 and so he beheved I was a Manks man, and I kept aj 
 between him and her, for fear she had whistled.f And 
 then we began to drink about, and then I betted he would 
 not drink out a quartern of Hollands, without drawing 
 breath — and then he tried it— and just then Slounging 
 Jock and Dick Spur'em came in, and we clinked the 
 darbies I on him, took him as quiet as a lamb — and now 
 he's had his bit sleep out, and is as fresh as a May gowan, 
 to answer what your honour Hkes to speir." This nar- 
 rative, delivered with a wonderful quantity of gesture 
 and grimace, received at the conclusion the thanks and 
 praises which the narrator expected. 
 
 " Had he no arms ? " asked the Justice. 
 
 " Ay, ay, they are never without barkers and slashers." 
 
 " Any papers ? " 
 
 " This bundle," dehvering a dirty pocket-book. 
 
 " Go down stairs, then, Mac-Guifog, and be in wait- 
 ing." The officer left the room. 
 
 The clink of irons was immediately afterwards heard 
 upon the stair, and in two or three minutes a man was 
 introduced, handcuffed and fettered. He was thick, 
 brawny, and muscular, and although his shagged and 
 grizzled hair marked an age somewhat advanced, and his 
 Btature was rather low, he appeared, nevertheless, a 
 person whom few would have chosen to cope with in 
 personal conflict. His coarse and savage features were 
 etill flushed, and his eye still reeled under the influence 
 
 * Unarmed. + Given information to the party concerned. 
 
 X Handcuffs. 
 
36 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 of the strong potation which had proved the immediate 
 cause of his seizure. But the sleep, though short, which 
 Mac-Guffog had allowed him, and still more a sense of 
 the peril of his situation, had restored to him the full use 
 of his faculties. The worthy judge, and the no less 
 estimable captive, looked at each other steadily for a long 
 time without speaking. Glossin apparently recognised 
 his prisoner, but seemed at a loss how to proceed with 
 his investigation. At length he broke silence. " Soh, 
 Captain, this is you ? — you have been a stranger on this 
 coast for some years." 
 
 " Stranger ! " replied the other ; " strange enough, I 
 think — for hold me der deyvil, if I been ever here 
 before." 
 
 " That won't pass, Mr. Captain." 
 
 " That must pass, Mr. Justice — sapperment ! " 
 
 " And who will you be pleased to call yourself, then, 
 for the present," said Glossin, "just until I shall bring 
 some other folks to refresh your memory concerning who 
 you are, or at least who you have been ? " 
 
 " What bin I ? — donner and bhtzen ! I bin Jans 
 Janson, from Cuxhaven — what sail Ich bin ? " 
 
 Glossin took from a case wliich was in the apartment 
 a pair of small pocket pistols, which he loaded with 
 ostentatious care. " You may retire," said he to his clerk, 
 " and carry the people with you, Scrow — but wait in the 
 lobby within call. 
 
 The clerk would have offered some remonstrances to 
 his patron on the danger of remaining alone with such a 
 desperate character, although ironed beyond the possibihty 
 of active exertion, but Glossin waved him off impatiently. 
 When he had left the room, the Justice took two short 
 turns through the apartment, then drew his chair opposite 
 
GUY MANNERING. 87 
 
 to the prisoner, so as to confront him fully, placed the 
 pistols before him in readiness, and said in a steady voice, 
 " You are Dkk Hatteraick of Flushing, ar-e jou not ? " 
 
 The prisoner turned his eye instinctively to the door, 
 as if he apprehended some one was hstening. Glo-rsin 
 rose, opened the door, so that from the chair in which his 
 prisoner sate he might satisfy himself there was no 
 eavesdropper within hearing, then shut it, resumed his 
 seat, and repeated his question — "You are Dirk Hat- 
 teraick, formerly of the Yungfrauw Haagenslaapen, are 
 you not ? " 
 
 " Tousand deyvils ! — and if you know that, why ask 
 me ? " said the prisoner. 
 
 " Because I am surprised to see you in the very last 
 place where you ought to be, if you regard your safety," 
 observed Glossiri, coolly. 
 
 " Der deyvil ! — no man regards his own safety that 
 speaks so to me ! " 
 
 " What ? unarmed, and in irons ! — well said. Captain ! " 
 replied Glossin, ironically. " But, Captain, buUying 
 woii't do — you'll hardly get out of this country without 
 accounting for a little accident that happened at Warroch 
 Point a few years ago." 
 
 Hatteraick's looks grew black as midnight. 
 
 " For my part," continued Glossin, " I have no par- 
 ticular wish to be hard upon an old acquaintance — but I 
 must do my duty — I shall send you off to Edinburgh in 
 a post-chaise and four this very day." 
 
 " Poz donner ! you would not do that ? " said Hat- 
 teraick, in a lower and more humbled tone ; " why, you 
 had the matter of half a cargo in bills on Vanbeest and 
 Vanbruggen." 
 
 " It is so long since, Captain Hatteraick," answered 
 
38 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 Glossin, superciliously, " that I really forget how I was 
 recompensed for my trouble." 
 
 " Your trouble ? your silence, you mean." 
 
 " It was an affair in the course of business/' said 
 Glossin, "and I have retired from business for some 
 time." 
 
 " Ay, but I have a notion that I could make you go 
 steady about, and try the old course again," answered 
 Dirk Hatteraick. " Why, man, hold me der deyvil, but 
 I meant to visit you, and tell you something that concerns 
 you." 
 
 " Of the boy ? " said Glossin, eagerly. 
 
 " Yaw, Mynheer," rephed the Captain, coolly. 
 
 " He does not live, does he ? " 
 
 " As lifelich as you or I," said Hatteraick. 
 
 " Good God ! — But in India ? " exclaimed Glossin. 
 
 " No — tousand deyvils ! here — on this dirty coast of 
 yours," rejoined the prisoner. 
 
 " But, Hatteraick, this, — that is, if it be true, which I 
 do not beheve, — this wiU ruin us both, for he cannot but 
 remember your neat job ; and for me — it will be pro- 
 ductive of the worst consequences ! It will ruin us both, 
 I teU you." 
 
 " I tell you," said the seaman, " it will ruin none but 
 you — for I am done up already, and if I must strap for 
 it, all shall out." 
 
 " Zounds ! " said the Justice, impatiently, " what 
 brought you back to this coast like a madman ? " 
 
 " Why, all the gelt was gone, and the house was shak- 
 ing, and I thought the job was clayed over and forgotten," 
 answered the worthy skipper. 
 
 " Stay — what can be done ? " said Glossin anxiously. 
 " I dare not discharge you — but might you not be rescued 
 
GUT MANNERING. 39 
 
 in the way — ay sure ? a word to Lieutenant Brown, — • 
 and I would send the people with you by the coast-road." 
 
 " No, no ! that won't do — Brown's dead — shot — laid 
 in the locker, man — the devil has the picking of him." 
 
 " Dead ? — shot ? — at Woodbourne, I suppose ? " replied 
 Glossin. 
 
 " Yaw, Mynheer." 
 
 Glossin paused — ^the sweat broke upon his brow with 
 the agony- of his feehngs, while the hard-featured mis- 
 creant who sat x)pposite, coolly rolled his tobacco in his 
 cheek, and squirted the juice into the fire-grate. " It 
 would be ruin," said Glossin to himself, " absolute ruin, 
 if the heir should re-appear — and then what might be the 
 consequence of conniving with these men ? — yet there is 
 so little time to take measures. — Hark you, Hatteraick ; 
 I can't tet you at liberty — but I can put you where you 
 may set yourself at liberty — I always like to assist an old 
 friend. I shall confine you in the old castle for to-night, 
 and give these people double allowance of grog. Mac- 
 Gufibg will fall in the trap in which he caught you. The 
 stancheons on the window of the strong room, as they 
 call it, are wasted to pieces, and it is not above twelve 
 feet from the level of the ground without, and the snow 
 lies thick." 
 
 " But the darbies," said Hatteraick, looking upon his 
 fetters. 
 
 " Hark ye," said Glossin, going to a tool chest, and 
 taking out a small file, " there's a friend for you, and you 
 know the road to the sea by the stairs." 
 
 Hatteraick shook his chains in ecstasy, as if he were 
 already at hberty, and strove to extend his fettered hand 
 towards his protector. Glossin laid his finger upon his 
 lips with a cautious glance at the door, and then proceeded 
 
40 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 in his instructions. " When you escape, jou had bftter 
 go to the Kaim of Derncleugh." 
 " Donner 1 that how^ is blown." 
 
 " The devil ! — well, thein, you may steal my skiff that 
 Lies on the beach there, and away. But you must remain 
 snug at the Point of Warroch till I come to see you." 
 
 " The Point of Warroch ? " said Hatteraick, his coun- 
 tenance again falHng — " what, in the cave, I suppose ? — I 
 would rather it were anywhere else ; — es spuckt da ! — 
 they say for certain that he walks. — But, donner and 
 blitzen ! I never shunned him alive, and I won't shun 
 him dead. — Strafe mich helle ! it shall never be said 
 Dirk Hatteraick feared either dog or devil ! — So I am to 
 wait there till I see you ? " 
 
 "Ay, ay," answered Glossin, "and now I must call in 
 the men." He did so accordingly. 
 
 " I can make nothing of Captain Janson, as he calls 
 himself, Mac-Guffog, and it's now too late to bundle him 
 off to the county jail. Is there not a strong room up 
 yonder in the old castle ? " 
 
 " Ay is there, sir ; my uncle the constable ance kept a 
 man there for three days in auld EUangowan's time. But 
 there was an unco dust about it — it was tried in the Inner- 
 house afore the feifteen." 
 
 " I know all that, but this person will not stay there 
 very long — it's only a makeshift for a night — a mere 
 lock-up house till farther examination. There is a small 
 room through which it opens ; you may light a fire for 
 yourselves there, and I'll send you plenty of stuff to make 
 you comfortable. But be sure you lock the door upon 
 the prisoner ; and, hark ye, let him have a fire in the 
 strong room too — the season requires it. Perhaps he'll 
 make a clean breast to-morrow." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 41 
 
 With these instructions, and with a large allowance of 
 food and hquor, the Justice dismissed his party to keep 
 guard for the night in the old castle, under the full hope 
 and belief that they would neither spend the night in 
 watching nor prayer. 
 
 There was little fear that Glossin himself should that 
 night sleep over-sound. His situation was perilous in the 
 extreme, for the schemes of a life of villany seemed at 
 once to be crumbling around and above him. He laid 
 himself to rest, and tossed upon his pillow for a long time 
 in vain. At length he fell asleep, but it was only to 
 dream of his patron, — now, as he had last seen him, with 
 the paleness of death upon his features, then again trans- 
 formed into all the vigour and comehness of youth, ap- 
 proaching to expel him from the mansion-house of his 
 fathers. Then he dreamed, that after wandering long 
 over a wild heath, he came at length to an inn, from 
 which sounded the voice of revelry ; and that when he 
 entered, the first person he met was Frank Kennedy, all 
 smashed and gory, as he had lain on the beach at War- 
 roch Point, but with a reeking punch-bowl in his hand. 
 Then the scene changed to a dungeon, where he heard 
 Dirk Hatteraick, whom he imagined to be under sentence 
 of death, confessing his crimes to a clergyman. — " After 
 the bloody deed was done," said the penitent, " we re- 
 treated into a cave close beside, the secret of which was 
 known but to one man in the country : we were debating 
 what to do with the child, and we thought of giving it up 
 to the gipsies, when we heard the cries of the pursuers 
 hallooing to each other. One man alone came straight 
 to our cave, and it was that man who knew the secret — • 
 but we made him our friend at the expense of half the 
 value of the goods saved. By his advice we carried off 
 
42 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the child to Holland in our consort, wliicli came the fol- 
 lowinof niofht to take us from the coast. That man 
 
 " No, I deny it ! — it was not I ! " said Glossin, in half- 
 uttered accents ; and, struggling in his agony to express 
 liis denial more distinctly, he awoke. 
 
 It was, however, conscience that had prepared this 
 m3ntal phantasmagoria. The truth was. that knowing 
 much better than any other person the haunts of the 
 smugglers, he had, while the others were seai'ching in 
 different directions, gone straight to the cave, even before 
 he had learned the mui'der of Kennedy, whom he ex- 
 pected to find then- prisoner. He came upon them with 
 some idea of mediation, but found them in the midst of 
 their guilty terrors, while the rage, which had hurried 
 them on to murder, began, with all but Hatteraick, to 
 sink into remorse and fear. Glossin was then indigent, 
 and greatly in debt, but he was ah*eady possessed of ]SIr. 
 Bertram's ear, and, awai^e of the facility of his disposi- 
 tion, he saw no difficulty in enrichmg himself at his ex- 
 pense, provided the heii'-male were removed ; in which 
 case the estate became the unlimited property of the weak 
 and prodigal father. Stimulated by present gam and the 
 prospect of contingent advantage, he accepted the bribe 
 which the smugglers offered in their terror, and connived 
 au, ur rather encouraged, their intention of carrying away 
 the child of his benefactor, who, if left behind, was old 
 enough to have described the scene of blood which he had 
 witnessed. The only palliative wliich the ingenuity of 
 Glossin could offer to liis conscience was, that the temp- 
 tation was gi'eat, and came suddenly upon him, embracing 
 as it were the very advantages on which his mind had so 
 long rested, and promising to reUeve him from distresses 
 
GUY MANNERING. 43 
 
 wliich must have otherwise speedily overwhelmed him. 
 Besides, he endeavoured to think that self-preservation 
 rendered his conduct necessary. He was, in some degree, 
 in the power of the robbers, and pleaded hard with his 
 conscience, that, had he declined their offers, ths assist- 
 ance wliich he could have called for, though not dis- 
 tant, might not have arrived in time to save him from 
 men who, on less provocation, had just committed 
 murder. 
 
 Galled with the anxious forebodings of a guilty con- 
 science, Glossin now arose, and looked out upon the night. 
 The scene which we have already described in the third 
 chapter of this story, was now covered with snow, and the 
 brilHant, though waste, whiteness of the land, gave to the 
 sea by contrast a dark and livid tinge. A landscape cov- 
 ered with snow, though abstractedly it may be called beau- 
 tiful, has, both from the association of cold and barren- 
 ness, and from its comparative infrequency, a wild, 
 strange, and desolate appearance. Objects, well known 
 to us in their common state, have either disappeared, or 
 are so strangely varied and disguised, that we seem gazing 
 on an unknown world. But it was not with such reflec- 
 tions that the mind of this bad man was occupied. His 
 eye was upon the gigantic and gloomy outlines of the old 
 castle, where, in a flanking tower of enormous size and 
 thickness, glimmered two lights, — one from the window 
 of the strong room where Hatteraick was confined, the 
 other from that of the adjacent apartment occupied by his 
 keepers. Has he made his escape, or will he be able to 
 do so? — Have these men watched, who never watched 
 before, in order to complete my ruin ? — If morning finds 
 him there, he must be committed to prison ; Mac-Mor- 
 lan or some other person will take the matter up — he 
 
44 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 will be detected — convicted — and will tell all in re- 
 venge ! " 
 
 While these racking thoughts ghded rapidly tln^ough 
 Glossin's mind, he observed one of the lights obscured, 
 as by an opaque body placed at the window. What a 
 moment of interest ! — " He has got clear of his u'ons ! — 
 he is working at the stancheons of the window — they are 
 surely quite decayed, they must give way — O God ! they 
 have fallen outward ; I heard them clink among the 
 stones ! — the noise cannot fail to wake them — furies seize 
 his Dutch awkwardness — The light burns free again — 
 They have torn him from the window, and are binding 
 him in the room ! — No ! he had only retired an instant 
 on the alarm of the falling bars — he is at the window 
 again — and the hght is quite obscured now — he is getting 
 out!" 
 
 A heavy sound, as of a body dropped from a height 
 among the snow, announced that Hatteraick had com- 
 pleted his escape, and shortly after Glossin beheld a dark 
 figure, like a shadow, steal along the whitened beach, and 
 reach the spot where the skiff lay. New cause for fear ! 
 — " His single strength will be unable to float her," said 
 Glossin to himself — " I must go to the rascal's assistance. 
 But no ! he has got her off, and now, thank God ! her 
 sail is spreading itself against the moon — ay, he has got 
 the breeze now — would to heaven it were a tempest, to 
 sink him to the bottom ! " 
 
 After this last cordial wish, he continued watching the 
 progress of the boat as it stood away towards the Point 
 of Warroch, until he could no longer distinguish the 
 dusky sail from the gloomy waves over which it glided. 
 Satisfied then that the immediate danger w^as averted, he 
 retired with somewhat more composure to his guilty pillow. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 45 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Why dost not comfort me, and help me out 
 From thia unhallowed and blood-stained hole? 
 
 Titus Andronicus. 
 
 On the next morning, great was tlie alarm and confu- 
 sion of the officers when they discovered the escape of 
 their prisoner. Mac-Guffog appeared before Glossin 
 with a head perturbed with brandy and fear, and in- 
 curred a most severe reprimand for neglect of duty. 
 The resentment of the Justice appeared only to be 
 suspended by his anxiety to recover possession of the 
 prisoner, and the thief-takers, glad to escape from his 
 awful and incensed presence, were sent off in every direc- 
 tion (except the right one) to recover their prisoner, if 
 possible. Glossin particularly recommended a careful 
 search at the Kaim of Derncleugh, which was occa- 
 sionally occupied under night by vagrants of different 
 descriptions. Having thus dispersed his myrmidons in 
 various directions, he himself hastened by devdous paths 
 through the Wood of TVarroch, to his appointed interview 
 with Hatteraick, from whom he hoped to learn at more 
 leisure than last night's conference admitted, the circum- 
 stances attending the return of the heir of EUangowan to 
 his native country. 
 
 With manoeuvres like those of a fox when he doubles 
 to avoid the pack, Glossin stnwe to approach the place 
 
45 "WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 of appointment in a manner whicli should lea\'e no dis- 
 tinct track of his course. " Would to Heaven it would 
 snow," he said, looking upward, " and hide these foot- 
 prints. Should one of the officers light upon them, he 
 would run the scent up hke a blood-hound, and surprise 
 us. I must get down upon the seabeach, and contrive to 
 creep along beneath the rocks." 
 
 And accordingly he descended from the chffs with some 
 difficulty, and scrambled along between the rocks and the 
 advancing tide ; now looking up to see if his motions 
 were watched from the rocks above him, now casting a 
 jealous glance to mark if any boat appeared upon the 
 sea, from which his course might be discovered. 
 
 But even the feehngs of selfish apprehension were for 
 a time superseded, as Glossin passed the spot where 
 Kennedy's body had been found. It was marked by the 
 fragment of a rock which had been precipitated from the 
 cliff above, either with the body or after it. The mass 
 was now encrusted with small shell-fish, and tasselled with 
 tangle and sea-weed; but still its shape and substance 
 were different from those of the other rocks which lay 
 scattered around. His voluntary walks, it will readily be ' 
 believed, had never led to this spot ; so that finding him- 
 self now there for the first time after the terrible catas- 
 trophe, the scene at once recurred to his mind with all 
 its accompaniments of horror. He remembered how, 
 like a guilty thing, ghding from the neighbouring place 
 of concealment, he had mingled wdth eagerness, yet with 
 caution, among the ten-ified group who surrounded the 
 corpse, dreading lest any one should ask from whence he 
 came. He remembered, too, with what conscious fear he 
 had avoided gazing upon that ghastly spectacle. The 
 wild scream of his patron, "My bairn! my bairn 1" 
 
GUY MANNERING. 47 
 
 again rang in his ears. " Good God ! " lie exclaimed, 
 *'and is all I have gained worth the agony of that 
 moment, and the thousand anxious fears and horrors 
 which have since embittered my life! — O how I wish 
 that I lay where that wretched man Hes, and that he 
 stood here in life and health ! But these regrets are all 
 too late." 
 
 Stifling, therefore, his feelings, he crept forward to the 
 cave, which was so near the spot where the body was 
 found, that the smugglers might Lave heard from their 
 hiding-place the various conjectures of the bystanders 
 concerning the fate of their victim. But nothing could 
 be more completely concealed than the entrance to their 
 asylum. The opening, not larger than that of a fox- 
 earth, lay in the face of the cliff directly behind a large 
 black rock, or rather upright stone, which served at once 
 to conceal it from strangers, and as a mark to point out 
 its situation to those who used it as a place of retreat. 
 The space between the stone and the cliff was exceedingly 
 narrow, and being heaped with sand and other rubbish, 
 the most minute search would not have discovered the 
 mouth of the cavern, without removing those substances 
 which the tide had drifted before it. For the purpose of 
 further concealment, it was usual with the contraband 
 traders who frequented this haunt, after they had entered, 
 to stuff the mouth with withered sea-weed, loosely piled 
 together as if carried there by the waves. Dirk Ilat- 
 teraick had not forgotten this precaution. 
 
 Glossin, though a bold and hardy man, felt his heart 
 throb, and his knees knock together, when he prepared 
 to enter this den of secret iniquity, in order to hold con- 
 ference with a felon, whom he justly accounted one of the 
 most desperate and depraved of men. " But he has no 
 
48 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 interest to injure me," was his consolatory reflection. He 
 examined his pocket-pistols, however, before removing 
 the weeds and entering the cavern, which he did upon 
 hands and knees. The passage, which at first was low 
 and narrow, just admitting entrance to a man in a creep- 
 ing posture, expanded after a few yards into a high 
 arched vault of considerable width. The bottom, ascend- 
 ing gradually, was covered with the purest sand. Ere 
 Glossin had got upon his feet, the hoarse yet suppressed 
 voice of Hatteraick growled through the recesses of the 
 cave. 
 
 '' Hasrel and donner ! — ^be'st du ! *' 
 
 o 
 
 " Are you in the dark ? " 
 
 " Dark ? der deyvil ! ay," said Dirk Hatteraick ; 
 " where should I have a ghm ? " 
 
 " I have brought hght ; " and Glossin accordingly 
 produced a tinder-box, and lighted a small lantern. 
 
 " You must kindle some fire too, for hold mich der 
 deyvil, Ich bin ganz gefrome ! " 
 
 " It is a cold place, to be sure," said Glossin, gathering 
 together some decayed staves of barrels and pieces of 
 wood, which had perhaps lain in the cavern since Hat- 
 teraick was there last. 
 
 " Cold ? Snow-wasser and hagel ! — it's perdition — I 
 could only keep myself ahve by rambling up and down 
 this d — d vault, and thinking about the merry rouses we 
 have had in it." 
 
 The flame then began to blaze brightly, and Hatteraick 
 liung his bronzed visage, and expanded his hard and 
 sinewy hands over it, with an avidity resembhng that of 
 a famished wretch to whom food is exposed. The light 
 shewed his savage and stern features, and the smoke, 
 which in his agony of cold he seemed to endure almost 
 
GUY MANNERING. 49 
 
 to suffocation, after circling round his head, rose to the 
 dim and rugged roof of the cave, through which it escaped 
 by some secret rents or clefts in the rock ; the same 
 doubtless that afforded air to the cavern when the tide 
 was in, at which time the aperture to the sea was filled 
 with water. 
 
 " And now I have brou/)ht you some breakfast," said 
 Glocsin, producing some ccld meat and a flask of spirits. 
 The latter Hatteraick eagerly seized upon, and appUed 
 to his mouth ; and, after a hearty draught, he exclaimed, 
 with gi-eat rapture, " Das schmeckt ; — that is good — that 
 warms the liver ! " Then broke into the fragment of a 
 High-Dutch song, 
 
 " Saufen Bier tuad Brante-wein, 
 Schmeissen alle die Fenstem ein; 
 Ich bin liederlich, 
 Du bist liederlich; 
 Sind wir nicht liederliche Leute a ! " 
 
 " Well said, my hearty Captain ! " cried Glossin, en- 
 deavouring to catch the tone of revelry, — 
 
 " Gin by pailfuls, wine in rivers, 
 Dash the window-glass to shivers ! 
 
 For three wild lads were we, brave boys, 
 And three wild lads were we ; 
 Thou on the land, and I on the sand, 
 And Jack on the gallows-tree ! 
 
 That's it, my bully-boy ! Why, you're alive again now 
 And now let us talk about our business." 
 
 " Tour business, if you please," said Hatteraick ; " hagel 
 and donner ! — mine was done when I got out of the bil- 
 boes." 
 
 " Have patience, my good friend ; — I'll convince you 
 our interests ai-e just the same." 
 
 VOL. IV. 4 
 
60 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Hatteraick gave a short dry cough, and Glossin, afk* 
 a pause, proceeded. 
 
 " How came you to let the boy escape ? " 
 
 " Wliy, fluch and blitzen ! he was no charge of mine. 
 Lieutenant Brown gave him to his cousin that's in the 
 Middleburgh house of Yanbeest and Vanbruggen, and 
 told him some goose's gazette about his being taken in a 
 skirmish with the land-sharks — he gave him for a foot- 
 boy. Me let him escape ! — the bastard kinchin should 
 have walked the plank ere I troubled myself about him.'* 
 
 " Well, and was he bred a foot-boy then ? " 
 
 " Nein, nein ; the kinchin got about the old man's 
 heart, and he gave him his own name, and bred him up 
 in the office, and then sent him to India — I beli.eve he 
 would have packed him back here, but his nephew told 
 him it would do up the free trade for many a day, if the 
 youngster got back to Scotland." 
 
 " Do you think the younker knows much of his own 
 origin now ? " 
 
 " Deyvil ! " replied Hatteraick, " how should I tell 
 what he knows now ? But he remembered something of 
 it long. When he was but ten years old, he persuaded 
 another Satan's limb of an English bastard like himself 
 to steal my lugger's khan — boat — what do you call it — 
 to return to his country, as he called it — fire him ! Be- 
 fore we could overtake them, they had the skiiF out of 
 channel as'far as the Deurloo — the boat might have been 
 lost." 
 
 " I wish to Heaven she had — with him in her ! " ejac- 
 ulated Glossin. 
 
 '' Why, I was so angry myself, that, sapperment ! I did 
 give him a tip over the side — but spht him — the comical 
 little devil swam like a duck ; so I made him swim astern 
 
GUY BIANNERING. 51 
 
 for a mile to teach him manners, and then took him in 
 when he was sinking. By the knocking Nicholas ! he'll 
 plague you, now he's come over the herring-pond ! When 
 he was so high he had the spirit of thunder and hght- 
 ning." 
 
 " How did he get back from India ? " 
 
 " Why, how should I know ? — the house there wag 
 done up, and that gave us a shake at Middleburgh, I think 
 — so they sent me again to see what could be done among 
 my old acquaintances here — ^for we held old stories were 
 done away and forgotten. So I had got a pretty trade 
 on foot within the last two trips ; but that stupid hounds- 
 foot schelm, Brown, has knocked it on the head again, I 
 suppose, with getting himself shot by the colonel-man." 
 
 " Why were not you with them ? " 
 
 " Why, you see — sapperment ! I fear nothing — but it 
 was too far within land, and I might have been scented." 
 
 " True. But to return to this youngster " 
 
 " Ay, ay, donner and blitzen ! he's your affair," said the 
 Captain. 
 
 " — How do you really know that he is in this coun- 
 try?" 
 
 " Wliy, Gabriel saw him up among the hills." 
 
 "Gabriel! who is he?" 
 
 " A fellow from the gipsies, that, about eighteen years 
 since, was pressed on board that d — d fellow Pritchard's 
 sloop-of-war. It was he came off and gave us warning 
 Ihat the Shark was coming round upon us the day Ken- 
 nedy was done ; and he told us how Kennedy had given 
 the information. The gipsies and Kennedy had somo 
 quarrel besides- This Gab went to the East Indies in 
 the same ship with your younker, and, sapperment ! knew 
 him well, though the other did not remember him. Gab 
 
52 WAYEELEY XOTELS. 
 
 kept out of his eje though, as he had served the States 
 ag&inst England, and was a deserter to boot ; and he sent 
 us word du-ectlj, that we might know of his being here 
 — though it does not concern us a rope's end." 
 
 " So, then, really, and in sober earnest, he is actually 
 in this country, Hatteraick, between friend and friend ? " 
 asked Glossin, seriously. 
 
 " Wetter and donner ! yaw. What do you take me 
 for?" 
 
 For a blood-thirsty, fearless miscreant ! thought Glos- 
 sin internally ; but said aloud, " And which of your 
 people was it that shot young Hazlewood ? " 
 
 " Sturm-wetter ! " said the Captain, " do ye think we 
 were mad ? none of us, man. Gott ! the country was 
 too hot for the trade akeady with that d — d frolic of 
 Brown's, attacking what you call Woodbourne House." 
 
 " Why, I am told," said Glossin, " it was Brown who 
 shot Hazlewood ? " 
 
 " Not our heutenant, I promise you ; for he was laid 
 six feet deep at Demcleugh the day befoce the thing 
 happened. Tausend deyvils, man ! do ye think that he 
 could rise out of the earth to shoot another man ? " 
 
 A hght here began to break upon Glossin's confusion 
 of ideas. " Did you not say that the younker, as you 
 call him, goes by the name of Brown ? " 
 
 " Of Bro^\Ti ? yaw — Vanbeest Brown ; old Vanbeest 
 Brown, of our Vanbeest and Vanbruggen, gave him liis 
 own name — he did." 
 
 " Then," said Glossin, rubbing his hands, " it is he, by 
 Heaven, who has committed this crime ! " 
 
 " And what have we to do with that ? " demanded 
 Hatteraick. 
 
 Glossin paused ; and, fertile in expedients, hastily ran 
 
GUI MAXXEEING. 53 
 
 over his project in his own mind, and then drew near the 
 smuggler with a confidential air. " You know, my dear 
 Hatteraick, it is our principal bushiess to get rid of this 
 young man ? " 
 
 " Umph ! " answered Dhk Hatteraick. 
 
 " Not," continued Glossin — " not that I would wish any 
 personal harm to him — if — if — if we can do without. 
 Now, he is liable to be seized upon by justice, both sls 
 bearing the same name with your Heutenant, who was 
 engaged in that affair at Woodbourne, and for firing at 
 young Hazlewood with mtent to kill or wound." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Dirk Hatteraick ; " but what good will 
 that do you ? He'll be loose again as soon as he shows 
 himself to carry other colours." 
 
 " True, my dear Dirk — well noticed, my friend Hat- 
 teraick ! But there is ground enough for a temporary 
 imprisonment till he fetch his proofs from England or 
 elsewhere, my good friend. I understand the law, Cap- 
 tain Hatteraick, and I'll take it upon me, simple Gilbert 
 Glossin of Ellangowan, justice of peace for the county 
 
 of , to refuse his bail, if he should offer the best iu 
 
 the country, until he is brought up for a second examina- 
 tion — now where d'ye think I'll incarcerate him ? " 
 
 " Hagel and wetter ! what do I care ? " 
 
 " Stay, my friend — you do care a great deal. Do you 
 know your goods, that were seized and carried to Wood- 
 bourne, are now lying in the Custom-house at Portan- 
 ferry ? " (a small fishing-town.) " Now I will commit 
 this younker " 
 
 " When you have caught him ? " 
 
 " Ay^ ay, when I have caught him — I shall not be 
 long about that — I will commit him to the Workhouse, 
 or Bridewell, which you know is beside the Custom- 
 house." 
 
54 VTATEKLET NOTELS. 
 
 " Yaw, the Rasp-liouse, I know it very well." 
 
 " I will take care that the red-coats are dispersed 
 through the country ; you land at night with the crew 
 of your lugger, receive your own goods, and carry the 
 younker Brown with you back to Flushing. Won't 
 that do ? " 
 
 " Ay, caiTy him to Flushing," said the Captain, " or— 
 to America ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, my friend." 
 
 « Or— to Jericho ? " 
 
 " Psha ! Wherever you have a mind." 
 
 " Ay, or — pitch him overboard ? " 
 
 " Nay, I advise no violence." 
 
 " Xein, nein — you leave that to me. Sturm-wetter ! 
 I know you of old. But, hark ye, what am I, Dirk 
 Hatteraick, to be the better of this ? " 
 
 " Why, is it not your interest as well as mine ? " said 
 Glossin : " besides, I set you free this morning." 
 
 " You set me free ! — Donner and dey vil ! I set myself 
 free. Besides, it was all in the way of your profession, 
 and happened a long time ago, ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! don't let us jest ; I am not against 
 making a handsome comphment — but it's your affair as 
 well as mine." 
 
 " What do you talk of my affair ? is it not you that 
 keep the younker's whole estate from him ? Dfrk Hat- 
 teraick never touched a stiver of his rents." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! — I tell you it shall be a joint business.** 
 
 " Why, will ye give me half the kitt ? " 
 
 " What, half the estate ? — d'ye mean we should set up 
 house together at EUangowan, and take the barony, ridge 
 about?" 
 
 " Stu]"m-wetter, no ! but you might give uie haff tha 
 
GUY MANNERING. DO 
 
 Talue'-half the gelt. Live with you? — nein — I would 
 have a lusthaus of mine own on the Middleburgh dyke, 
 and a blumengarten like a burgomaster's." 
 
 "Ay, and a wooden lion at the door, and a painted 
 sentinel in the garden, with a pipe in his mouth ! — But, 
 hark ye, Ilatteraick— what will all the tulips, and flower- 
 gardens, and pleasure-houses in the Netherlands do for 
 you, if you are hanged here in Scotland ? " 
 
 Hatteraick's countenance fell. " Der Deyvil ! — 
 hanged ? " 
 
 " Ay, hanged, meinheer Captain. The devil can scai'ce 
 save Dirk Hatteraick from being hanged for a murderer 
 and kidnapper, if the younker of Ellangowan should 
 settle in this country,, and if the gallant Captain chances 
 to be caught here re-establishing his fair trade ! And I 
 won't say, but, as peace is now so much talked of, their 
 High Mightinesses may not hand him over to oblige their 
 new allies, even if he remained in faderland." 
 
 " Poz hagel blitzen and donner ! I — I doubt you say 
 true." 
 
 " Not," said Glossin, perceiving he had made the 
 desired impression, " not that I am against being civil ; " 
 and he slid into Hatteraick's passive hand a bank-note of 
 some value. 
 
 " Is this all ? " said the smuggler ; " you had the price 
 of half a cargo for winking at our job, and made us do 
 fcur business too." 
 
 " But, my good friend, you forget — in this case you 
 fvill recover all your own goods." 
 
 " Ay, at the risk of all our o^vn necks — we could do 
 rhat without you." 
 
 " I doubt that, Captain Hatteraick," said Glossin drily, 
 •* because you would probably find a dozen red- .oats at 
 
56 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 the Custom-house, whom it must be mj busmess, if we 
 agree about this matter, to have removed. Come, come, 
 I will be as hberal its I can, but you should have a 
 conscience." 
 
 " Now strafe mich der dejfel ! — this provokes me more 
 than all the rest ! — You rob and you murder, and jou 
 want me to rob and murder, and play the silver-cooper, 
 or kidnapper, as you call it, a dozen a times over, and then, 
 hagel and windsturm ! you speak to me of conscience ! 
 Can you think of no fairer way of getting rid of this 
 unlucky lad ? " 
 
 " No, meinheer ; but as I commit him to your 
 charge" 
 
 " To my charge — to the charge of steel and gunpow- 
 der ! and — well, if it must be, it must — but you have a 
 tolerably good guess what's like to come of it." 
 
 " 0, my dear friend, I trust no degree of severity will 
 be necessary," replied Glossin. 
 
 " Severity ! " said the fellow with a kind of groan. 
 " I wish you had had my dreams when I first came to 
 this dog-hole, and tried to sleep among the dry sea-weed. 
 First, there was that d — d fellow there, with his broken 
 back, sprawling as he did when I hurled the rock over 
 a-top on him — ha ! ha ! — you would have sworn he was 
 lying on the floor where you stand, wriggUng hke a 
 crushed frog — and then " 
 
 " Nay, my friend," said Glossin, interrupting him, 
 " what signifies going over this nonsense ? — If you are 
 turned chicken-hearted, why, the game's up, that's all — 
 the game's up with us both." 
 
 " Chicken-hearted ? — No. I have not lived so long 
 upon the account to start at last, neither for devil noi 
 Dutchman." 
 
GUT MAXNEEING. 57 
 
 " "Well, then, take another schnaps — the cold's at jour 
 heart still. — And now tell me, are any of your old crew 
 with you ? " 
 
 " Nein — all dead, shot, hanged, drowned, and damned. 
 Brown was the last — all dead but Gipsy Gab, and he 
 would go off the country for a spiU of money— or he'll 
 be quiet for his own sake — or old Meg, his aunt, will 
 keep him quiet for hers." 
 
 " Which Meg ? " 
 
 " Meg Merrilies, the old devil's limb of a gipsy witch." 
 
 « Is she still ahve ? " 
 
 " Yaw." 
 
 " And in this country ? " 
 
 " And in this country. She was at the Kaim of Dem- 
 cleugh, at Vanbeest Brown's last wake, as they call it, the 
 other night, with two of my people, and some of her own 
 blasted gipsies." 
 
 " That's another breaker a-head. Captain ! Will she 
 not squeak, think ye ? " 
 
 " Not she — she won't start — she swore by the salmon,* 
 if we did the kinchin no harm, she would never tell how 
 the ganger got it. WTiy, man, though I gave her a wipe 
 with my hanger in the heat of the matter, and cut her 
 arm, and though she was so long after in trouble about it 
 up at your borough-town there, der deyvil ! old Meg was 
 as true as steel." 
 
 "Why, that's true, as you say," replied Glossin. 
 " And yet if she could be carried over to Zealand, or 
 Hamburgh, or — or — anywhere else, you know, it were as 
 well." 
 
 Hatteraick jumped upright upon his feet, and looked 
 at Glossin from head to heel. — "I don't see the goat's 
 * The great and inviolable oath of the strolling tribes. 
 
58 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 foot," he said ; — " and yet lie must be the very deyvil !— 
 But Meg Merrilies is closer yet with the Kobold than 
 you are — ay, and I had never such weather as after 
 having drawn her blood. — Nein, nein, I'll meddle with 
 her no more — she's a witch of the fiend — a real deyvil's- 
 kind — but that's her affair. Donner and wetter! I'll 
 neither make nor meddle — that's her work. — But for the 
 rest — why, if I thought the trade would not suffer, I 
 would soon rid you of the younker, if you send me word 
 when he's under embargo." 
 
 In brief and under tones the two worthy associates 
 concerted their enterprise, and agreed at which of his 
 haunts Hatteraick should be heard of. The stay of his 
 lugger on the coast was not difficult, as there were no king's 
 vessels there at the time. 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 59 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 You are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bids you — 
 Because we come to do you service, you think we are riiflans. 
 
 Otheixo. 
 
 When Glossin returned liome, he found, among other 
 letters and papers sent to him, one of considerable im- 
 portance. It was signed bj Mr. Protocol, an attorney in 
 Edinburgh, and, addressing him as the agent for Godfrey 
 Bertram, Esq., late of Ellangowan, and his representa- 
 tives, acquainted him with the sudden death of Mrs. 
 Margaret Bertram of Singleside, requesting him to 
 inform his clients thereof, in case they should judge it 
 proper to have any person present for their interest at 
 opening the repositories of the deceased. Mr. Glossin 
 perceived at once that the letter-writer was unacquainted 
 with the breach which had taken place between him and 
 his late patron. The estate of the deceased lady should 
 by rights, as he well knew, descend to Lucy Bertram ; 
 but it was a thousand to one that the caprice of the old 
 lady might have altered its destination. After running 
 over contingencies and probabilities in his fertile mind, 
 to ascertain what sort of personal advantage might accrue 
 to him from this incident, he could not perceive any mode 
 of availing himself of it, except in so far as it might go to 
 assist his plan of recovering, or rather creating, a charac- 
 ter, the want of which he had already experienced, and 
 
6l> WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 was llkelj to feel yet more deeply. " I must place my- 
 self," he thought, " on strong ground, that if anything 
 goes wrong with Dirk Hatteraick's project, I may have 
 prepossessions in my favour at least." — Besides, to do 
 Glossin justice, bad as he was, he might feel some desire 
 to compensate to Miss Bertram in a small degree, and in 
 a case in which his own interest did not interfere with 
 hers, the infinite mischief which he had occasioned to her 
 family. He therefore resolved early the next morning 
 to ride over to Woodbourne. 
 
 It was not without hesitation that he took this step, 
 having the natural reluctance to face Colonel Mannering, 
 which fraud and villany have to encounter honour and 
 probity. But he had great confidence in his own savoir 
 faire. His talents were naturally acute, and by no 
 means confined to the line of his profession. He had at 
 different times resided a good deal in England, and his 
 address was free both from country rusticity and profes- 
 sional pedantry ; so that he had considerable powers both 
 of address and persuasion, joined to an unshaken effron- 
 tery, which he- affected to disguise under plainness of 
 manner. Confident, therefore, in himself, he appeared 
 at Woodbourne, about ten in the morning, and was 
 admitted as a gentleman come to wait upon Miss Ber- 
 tram. 
 
 He did not announce himself until he was at the door 
 of the breakfast-parlour, when the servant, by his desire, 
 said aloud — " Mr. Glossin, to wait upon Miss Bertram." 
 Lucy, remembering the last scene of her father's exist- 
 ence, turned as pale as death, and had well-nigh fallen 
 from her chair. Julia Mannering flew to her assistance, 
 and they left the room together. There remained Colo- 
 nel Mannering, Charles Hazlewood, with his arm in a 
 
GUY MA^NNEEING. 61 
 
 sling, and the Dominie, whose gaunt visage and wall-ejes 
 assumed a most hostile aspect on recognising Glossin. 
 
 That honest gentleman, though somewhat abashed by 
 the effect of his first mtroduction, advanced with con- 
 fidence, and hoped he did not intrude upon the ladies. 
 Colonel Mannering, in a very upright and stately man- 
 ner, observed, that he did not know to what he was to 
 impute the honour of a visit from Mr. Glossin. 
 
 " Hem ! hem ! — I took the liberty to wait upon Miss 
 Bertram, Colonel Mannering, on account of a matter of 
 business." 
 
 " If it can be communicated to Mr. Mac-Morlan, her 
 agent, sir, I believe it will be more agreeable to Miss 
 Bertram." 
 
 " I beg pardon, Colonel Mannering," said Glossin, 
 making a wretched attempt at an easy demeanour ; " you 
 are a man of the world — ^there are some cases in which 
 it is most prudent for all parties to treat with principals." 
 
 " Then," replied Mannering, with a repulsive air, " if 
 Mr. Glossin will take the trouble to state his object in a 
 letter, I will answer that Miss Bertram pays proper 
 attention to it." 
 
 " Certainly," stammered Glossin ; — " but there are cases 
 in which a viva voce conference — Hem ! I perceive — I 
 know — ^that Colonel Mannering has adopted some prej- 
 udices which may make my visit appear intrusive ; but 
 I submit to his good sense, whether he ought to exclude 
 me from a hearing without knowing the purpose of my 
 visit, or of how much consequence it may be to the 
 young lady whom he honours with his protection." 
 
 " Certainly, sir, I have not the least intention to do 
 60," replied the Colonel. " I will learn Miss Bertram's 
 pleasure on the subject, and acquaint Mr. Glossin, if he 
 
62 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 can spare time to wait for her answer." So saving, he 
 left the room. 
 
 Glossin had still remained standing in the midst of 
 the apartment. Colonel Mannering had made not the 
 shghtest motion to invite him to sit, and indeed had re- 
 mained standing himself during their short interview. 
 "When he left the room, however, Glossin seized upon a 
 chair, and threw himself into it with an air between em- 
 barrassment and effrontery. He felt the silence of his 
 companions disconcerting and oppressive, and resolved to 
 interrupt it. 
 
 " A fine day, Mr. Sampson." 
 
 The Dominie answered with something between an 
 acquiescent grunt and an indignant groan. 
 
 " You never come down to see your old acquaintance 
 on the Ellangowan property, Mr. Sampson — You would 
 find most of the old stagers still stationary there. I have 
 too much respect for the late family to disturb old resi- 
 denters, even under pretence of improvement. Besides 
 it's not my way — I don't hke it — I beheve, Mr. Sampson, 
 Scripture pai'ticularly condemns those who oppress the 
 poor, and remove landmarks." 
 
 " Or who devour the substance of orphans," subjoined 
 the Dominie. " Anathema ! Maranatha ! " So saying, 
 he rose, shouldered the folio which he had been perusing, 
 faced to the right about, and marched out of the room 
 with the strides of a grenadier. 
 
 Mr. Glossin, no way disconcerted, at least feeling it 
 necessary not to appear so, turned to young Hazlewood, 
 who was apparently busy with the newspaper. " Any 
 news, sir ? " Hazlewood raised his eyes, looked at him, 
 and pushed the paper towards him, as if to a stranger in 
 a coffee-house, then rose, and was about to leave the 
 
GUT MANNERING. 63 
 
 room. "I beg pardon, Mr. Hazlewood — ^biit I can't help 
 wishing you joy of getting so easily over that infernal 
 accident." Tiiis was answered by a sort of inclination 
 of the head, as slight and stiff as could well be imagined. 
 Yet it encouraged our man of law to proceed. " I can 
 promise you, Mr. Hazlewood, few people have taken the 
 interest in that matter which I have done, both for the 
 sake of the country, and on account of my particular 
 I espect for your family, which have so high a stake in it ; 
 indeed so very high a stake, that, as Mr. Featherhead is 
 turning old now, and as there's a talk, since his last 
 stroke, of his taking the Chiltern Hundreds, it might be 
 worth your while to look about you. I speak as a friend, 
 Mr. Hazlewood, and as one who understands the roll ; 
 and if in going over it together " 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, but I have no views in which your 
 assistance could be useful." 
 
 " Oh, very well — perhaps you are right — it's quite 
 time enough, and I love to see a young gentleman cau- 
 tious. But I was talking of your wound — I think I have 
 got a clew to that business — I think I have — and if I 
 don't bring the fellow to condign punishment ! " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, once more ; but your zeal 
 outruns my wishes. I have every reason, to think the 
 wound was accidental — certainly it was not premeditated. 
 Against ingratitude and premeditated treachery, should 
 you find any one guilty of them, my resentment wiU be 
 as warm as your own." This was Hazlewood's answer. 
 
 " Another rebuff," thought Glossin ; " I must try him 
 
 upon the other tack. Right, sir ; very nobly said ! I 
 
 would have no more mercy on an ungrateful man than I 
 would on a woodcock. — And now we talk of sport," (thi? 
 was a sort of diverting of the conversation which Glossin 
 
64 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 had learned from his former patron,) " I see you often 
 carrj a gun, and I hope you will be soon able to take the 
 field again. I observe you confine yourself always to 
 your own side of the Hazleshaws-burn. I hope, my dear 
 sir, you will make no scruple of following your game to 
 the EDangowan bank : I beHeve it is rather the bes< 
 exposure of the two for woodcocks, although both are 
 capital." 
 
 As this offer only excited a cold and constrained bow, 
 Glossin was obliged to remain silent, and was presently 
 afterwards somewhat relieved by the entrance of Colonel 
 Mannering. 
 
 " I have detained you some time, I fear, sir," said he, 
 addressing Glossin : "I wished to prevail upon Miss 
 Bertram to see you, as, in my opinion, her objections 
 ought to give way to the necessity of hearing in her own 
 person what is stated to be of importance that she should 
 know. But I find that circumstances of recent occur- 
 rence, and not easily to be forgotten, have rendered her 
 so utterly repugnant to a personal interview with Mr. 
 Glossin, that it would be cruelty to insist upon it : and 
 she has deputed me to receive his commands, or proposal 
 — or, in short, whatever he may wish to say to her." 
 
 " Hem, hem ! I am sorry, sir — I am very sorry. Colonel 
 Mannering, that Miss Bertram should suppose — that 
 any prejudice, in short — or . idea that anything on my 
 pai't " 
 
 *' Sir," said the inflexible Colonel, " where no accui-a 
 tion is made, excuses or explanations are unnecessary 
 Have you any objection to communicate to me, as Miss 
 Bertram's temporary guardian, the circumstances which 
 you conceive to interest her ? " 
 
 "None, Colonel Mannering; she could not choose a 
 
GUT MANNERINGT. 65 
 
 more respectable friend, or one with whom I, in partic- 
 ular, would more anxiously wish to communicate frankly." 
 
 " Have the goodness to speak to the pomt, sir, if you 
 please." 
 
 "Why, sir, it is not so easy all at once — but ]Mi\ 
 Hazlewood need not leave the room, — I mean so well to 
 Miss Bertram, that I could wish the whole world to hear 
 my part of the conference." 
 
 " My friend Mr. Charles Hazlewood will not probably 
 be anxious, Mr. Glossin, to listen to what cannot concern 
 him — and now, when he has left us alone, let me pray 
 you to be short and explicit in what you have to say. I 
 am a soldier, sir, somewhat impatient of forms and intro- 
 ductions." So saying, he drew himself up in his chair, 
 and waited for Mr. Glossin's communication. 
 
 " Be pleased to look at that letter," said Glossin, put- 
 ting Protocol's epistle into Mannering's hand, as the 
 shortest way of stating his business. 
 
 The Colonel read it, and returned it, after pencilling 
 the name of the writer in his memorandum-book. " This, 
 sir, does not seem to require much discussion — I will see 
 that Miss Bertram's interest is attended to." 
 
 " But, sir, — but, Colonel Mannering," added Glossin, 
 " there is another matter which no one can explain but 
 myself. This lady — this Mrs. Margaret Bertram, to my 
 certain knowledge, made a general settlement of her 
 affairs in Miss Lucy Bertram's favour while she Hved 
 with my old friend, Mr. Bertram, at Ellangowan. The 
 Dominie — that was the name by which my deceased 
 friend always called that very respectable man ]Mr. 
 Sampson — he and I witnessed the deed. And she had 
 full power at that time to make such a settlement, for she 
 was in fee of the estate of Singleside even then, although 
 
 VOL. IV. 6 
 
66 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 it was life-rented by an elder sister. It was a wliimsical 
 settlement of old Singleside's, sir ; he pitted the two cats 
 his daughters against each other, — ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mannering, without the slightest smile 
 of sympathy — " but to the purpose. You say that this 
 lady had powei- to settle her estate on Miss Bertram, and 
 that she did so ? " 
 
 " Even so, Colonel," replied Glossin. " I think I should 
 
 understand the law — I have followed it for many years, 
 
 and though I have given it up to retire upon a handsome 
 
 competence, I did not throw away that knowledge which 
 
 is pronounced better than house and land, and which I 
 
 take to be the knowledge of the law, since, as our common 
 
 rhyme has it, 
 
 'Tis most excellent, 
 
 To win the land that's gone and spent, 
 
 No, no, — I love the smack of the whip — I have a little, a 
 very little law yet, at the service of my friends." 
 
 Glossin ran on in this manner, thinking he had made 
 a favourable impression on Mannering. The Colonel 
 indeed reflected that this might be a most important crisis 
 for Miss Bertram's interest, and resolved that his strong 
 inclination to throw Glossin out at window, or at door, 
 should not interfere with it. He put a strong curb on his 
 temper, and resolved to listen with patience at least, if 
 without complacency. He therefore let Mr. Glossin get 
 to the end of his self-congratulations, and then asked him 
 if he knew where the deed was ? 
 
 " I know — that is, I think — I believe I can recover it. 
 In such cases custodiers have sometimes made a charge.' 
 
 " We won't differ as to that, sir," said the Colonel, 
 taking out his pocket-book. 
 
 ' But, my dear sir, you take me so very short — I said 
 
GTJT MANNERING. 67 
 
 some persons might make such a claim — I mean lor pay- 
 ment of the expenses of the deed, trouble in the affair, 
 &c. But I, for my own part, only wish Miss Bertram 
 and her friends to be satisfied that I am acting towards 
 her with honour. There's the paper, sir ! It would have 
 been a satisfaction to me to have delivered it into Miss 
 Bertram's own hands, and to have wished her joy of the 
 prospects which it opens. But since her prejudices on 
 the subject are invincible, it only remains for me to trans- 
 mit her my best wishes through you, Colonel Mannering, 
 and to express that I shall willingly give my testimony in 
 support of that deed when I shall be called upon. I have 
 the honour to wish you a good morning, sir." 
 
 This parting speech was so well got up, and had so 
 much the tone of conscious integrity unjustly suspected, 
 that even Colonel Mannering was staggered in his bad 
 opinion. He followed him two or three steps, and took 
 leave of him with more politeness (though still cold and 
 formal) than he had paid during his visit. Glossin left 
 the house, half pleased with the impression he had made, 
 half mortified by the stern caution and proud reluctance 
 with which he had been received. " Colonel Mannering 
 might have had more politeness," he said to himself — " it 
 is not every man that can bring a good chance of £400 a 
 year to a penniless girl. Singleside must be up to £400 
 a year now — there's Reilageganbeg, Gillifidget, Loverless, 
 Liealone, and the Spinster's Knowe — good £400 a year. 
 Some people might have made their own of it in my 
 place — and yet, to own the truth, after much consid- 
 eration, I don't see how that is possible." 
 
 Glossin was no sooner mounted and gone, than the 
 Colonel despatched a groom for Mr. Mac-Morlan, and 
 putting the deed into his hand, req^uested to know if it 
 
68 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 was likely to be available to his friend Lucy Bertram. 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan perused it with eyes that spai-kled with 
 deHght, snapped his fingers repeatedly, and at length 
 exclaimed, " Available ! — it's as tight as a glove — nae- 
 body could make better wark than Glossin, when he didna 
 let down a steek on purpose. But" (his countenance 
 
 falling) " the auld b , that I should say so, might 
 
 alter at pleasure ! " 
 
 " Ah ! And how shall we know whether she has done 
 sc"' 
 
 " Somebody must attend on Miss Bertram's part, when 
 the repositories of the deceased are opened." 
 
 " Can you go ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " I fear I cannot," repHed Mac-Morlan ; " I must attend 
 a jury trial before our court." 
 
 « Then I will go myself," said the Colonel ; " I'll set 
 out to-morrow. Sampson shall go with me — he is witness 
 to this settlement. But I shall want a legal ad^dser." 
 
 " The gentleman that was lately sheriff of this county 
 is high in reputation as a barrister; I will give you a 
 card of introduction to him." 
 
 " What I hke about you, INIr. Mac-Morlan," said the 
 Colonel, " is, that you always come straight to the point ; 
 — let me have it instantly. Shall we tell ISIiss Lucy her 
 chance of becoming an heiress ? " 
 
 " Surely, because you must have some powers from 
 her, which I will instantly draw out. Besides, I will be 
 caution for her prudence, and that she will consider it 
 only in the light of a chance." 
 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan judged well. It could not be dis- 
 cerned from IMiss Bertram's manner, that she founded 
 exulting hopes upon the prospect thus unexpectedly open- 
 ing before her. She did, indeed, in the course of the 
 
GUT MANNERING. 
 
 69 
 
 evening, ask Mr. Mac-Morlan, as if hj accident, what 
 might be the annual income of the Hazlewood property ; 
 but shall we therefore aver for certain that she was con- 
 sidering whether an heiress of four hundred a year might 
 be a suitable match for the young Laird ? 
 
70 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red — for I must speak In pas 
 rion, and I mil do it in King Gambyses' vein. 
 
 Henet IV. Part I. 
 
 INlANNERiNa, with Sampson for his companion, lost no 
 time in his journey to Edinburgh. They travelled in the 
 Colonel's post-chariot, who knowing his companion's 
 habits of abstraction, did not choose to lose him out 
 of his own sight, far less to trust him on horseback, 
 where, in all probability, a knavish stable-boy might with 
 little address have contrived to mount him with his face 
 to the tail. Accordingly, with the aid of his valet, who 
 attended on horseback, he contrived to bring Mr. Samp- 
 son safe to an inn in Edinburgh, — for hotels in those days 
 there were none, — without any other accident than arose 
 from his straying twice upon the road. On one occasion 
 he was recovered by Barnes, who understood his humour, 
 when, after engaging in close colloquy with the school- 
 master of Moffat, respecting a disputed quanti^^y in 
 Horace's seventh Ode, Book H., the dispute led on to 
 another controversy, concerning the exact meaning of the 
 word Malohathro, in that lyric effusion. His second 
 escapade was made for the purpose of visiting the field 
 of Rullion-green, which was dear to his Presbyterian 
 predilections. Having got out of the carriage for an in- 
 stant, he saw the sepulchral monument of the slain at the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 71 
 
 distance of about a mile, and was arrested by Barnes in 
 his progress up the Pentland Hills, having on both occa- 
 sions forgot his friend, patron, and fellow-traveller, as 
 completely as if he had been in the East Indies. On 
 being reminded that Colonel Mannering was waiting for 
 him, he uttered his usual ejaculation of " Prodigious ! — I 
 was obhvious," and then strode back to his post. Barnes 
 was surprised at his master's patience on both occasions, 
 knowing by experience how httle he brooked neglect or 
 delay ; but the Dominie was in every respect a privileged 
 person. His patron and he were never for a moment in 
 each other's way, and it seemed obvious that they were 
 formed to be companions thi'ough hfe. If Mannering 
 wanted a particular book, the Dommie could bring it ; if 
 he wished to have accounts summed up or checked, his 
 assistance was equally ready ; if he desired to recall a 
 particular passage in the classics, he could have recourse 
 to the Dominie as to a dictionary ; and all the while, this 
 walking statue was neither presuming when noticed, nor 
 sulky when left to himself. To a proud, shy, reserved 
 man, and such in many respects was Mannering, this sort 
 of hving catalogue, and animated automaton, had all the 
 advantages of a literary dumb-waiter. 
 
 As soon as they arrived in Edinburgh, and were 
 established at the George Inn, near Bristo-Port, then 
 kept by old Cockburn, (I love to be particular,) the 
 Colonel desired the waiter to procure him a guide to Mr. 
 Pleydell's, the advocate, for whom he had a letter of in- 
 troduction from Mr. Mac-Morlan. He then commanded 
 Barnes to have an eye to the Dominie, and walked 
 forth with a chairman, who was to usher him to the man 
 of law. 
 
 The period was near the end of the American war., 
 
72 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 The desire of room, of air, and of decent aecommodatioTi, 
 had not as yet made very much progress in the capital of 
 Scotland. Some efforts had been made on the south side 
 of the town towards building houses within themselves^ as 
 they are emphatically termed ; and the New Town on the 
 north, since so much extended, was then just commenced. 
 But the great bulk of the better classes, and particularly 
 those connected with the law, still hved in flats or dun- 
 geons of the Old Town. The manners also of some of 
 the veterans of the law had not admitted innovation. 
 One or two eminent lawyers still saw their chents in 
 taverns, as was the general custom fifty years before; 
 and although their habits were already considered as old- 
 fashioned by the younger barristers, yet the custom of 
 mixing wine and revelry with serious business was still 
 maintained by those senior counsellors, who loved the old 
 road, either because it was such, or because they had got 
 too well used to it to travel any other. Among those 
 praisers of the past time, who with ostentatious obstinacy 
 affected the manners of a former generation, was this 
 same Paulus Pleydell, Esq., otherwise a good scholar, an 
 excellent lawyer, and a worthy man. 
 
 Under the guidance of his trusty attendant, Colonel 
 Mannering, after threading a dark lane or two, reached 
 the High Street, then clanging with the voices of oyster- 
 women and the bells of pie-men ; for it had, as his guide 
 assured him, just " chappit eight upon the Tron." It was 
 long since Mannering had been in the street of a crowded 
 metropoHs, which, with its noise and clamour, its sounds 
 of trade, of revelry and of license, its variety of lights, 
 and the eternally changing bustle of its hundred groups, 
 offers, by night especially, a spectacle which, though 
 composed of the most vulgar materials when they are 
 
GUY JIANNERING. 73 
 
 separately considered, has, when thej are combined, a 
 striking and powerful effect on the imagination. The 
 extraordinary height of the houses was marked by lights, 
 which, glimmering irregularly along their front, ascended 
 so high among the attics, that they seemed at length to 
 twinkle in the middle sky. This coup d'oeil, which still 
 subsists in a certain degree, was then more imposing, 
 living to the uninterrupted range of buildings on each 
 side, which, broken only at the space where the North 
 Bridge joins the main street, formed a superb and uniform 
 Place, extending from the front of the Luckenbooths to 
 the head of the Canongate, and corresponding in breadth 
 and length to the uncommon height of the buildings on 
 either side. 
 
 Mannering had not much time to look and to admire. 
 His conductor hurried him across this striking scene, and 
 suddenly dived with him into a very steep paved lane. 
 Turning to the right, they entered a scale-staircase, as it 
 is called, the state ci which, so far as it could be judged 
 of by one of his senses, annoyed Mannering's dehcacy not 
 a little. When they had ascended cautiously to a con- 
 siderable height, they heard a heavy rap at a door, still 
 two stories above them. The door opened, and imme- 
 diately ensued the sharp and worrying bark of a dog, 
 the squalling of a woman, the screams of an assaulted 
 cat, and the hoarse voice of a man, who cried in a most 
 imperative tone, "Will ye. Mustard.? will ye? — down 
 sir ! down ! " 
 
 " Lord preserve us ! " said the female voice, " an he 
 had worried our cat, IVIr. Pleydell would ne'er hae for- 
 given me ! " 
 
 " Aweel, my doo, the cat's no a prin the waur — So he'a 
 no in, ye say ? " 
 
74 TVAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " Na, IVIr. Pleydell's ne'er in the house on Saturday at 
 e'en," answered the female voice. 
 
 "And the morn's Sabbath too," said the querist; "I 
 dinna ken what will be done." 
 
 By this time Mannering appeared, and found %, tall 
 strong countryman, clad in a coat of pepper-and-salt 
 coloured mixture, with huge metal buttons, a glazed hat 
 and boots, and a large horsewhip beneath his arm, in 
 colloquy with a slip-shod damsel, who had in one hand 
 the lock of the door, and in the other a pail of whiting, or 
 camstane, as it is called, mixed with water — a circum- 
 stance which indicates Saturday night in Edinburgh. 
 
 " So Mr. Pleydell is not at home, my good girl ? " said 
 Mannering. 
 
 " Ay, sir, he's at hame, but he's no in the house : he's 
 aye out on Saturday at e'en." 
 
 " But, my good girl, I am a stranger, and my business 
 express. — Will you tell me where I can find him ? " 
 
 " His honour," said the chairman, " will be at Cleri- 
 hugh's about this time — Hersell could hae tell'd ye that, 
 but she thought ye wanted to see his house." 
 
 " Well, then, show me to this tavern — I suppose he 
 will see me, as I come on business of some conse- 
 quence ? " 
 
 " I dinna ken, sir," said the girl ; " he disna like to be 
 disturbed on Saturdays wi' business — ^but he's aye civil 
 to strangers." 
 
 " I'll gang to the tavern too," said our friend Dinmont, 
 " for I am a stranger also, and on business e'en sic 
 like." 
 
 " Na," said the handmaiden, " an he see the gentleman, 
 he'll see the simple body too — but. Lord's sake, dinna say 
 it was me sent ye there ! " 
 
GUT MANNERING. 75 
 
 " Atweel, I'm a simple body, that's true, liinney, but I 
 am no come to steal ony o' his skeel for naething," said 
 the farmer in his honest pride, and strutted away down 
 stairs, followed by Mannering and the cadie. Manner- 
 ing could not help admiring the determined stride with 
 which the stranger who preceded them divided the 
 press, shouldering from him, by the mere weight and 
 impetus of his motion, both drunk and sober passengers. 
 "He'll be a Teviotdale tup tat ane," said the chair- 
 man, " tat's for keeping ta crown o' ta causeway tat 
 gate ; he'll no gang far or he'll get somebody to bell ta cat 
 wi' him." 
 
 His shrewd augury, however, was not fulfilled. Those 
 who recoiled from the colossal weight of Dinmont, on 
 looking up at his size and strength, apparently judged 
 him too heavy metal to be rashly encountered, and suf- 
 fered him to pursue his course unchallenged. Follow- 
 ing in the wake of this first-rate, Mannering proceeded 
 till the farmer made a pause, and, looking back to the 
 chairman, said, "I'm thinking this will be the close, 
 friend.?" 
 
 " Ay, ay," replied Donald, " tat's ta close." 
 
 Dinmont descended confidently, then turned into a dark 
 alley — then up a dark stair — and then into an open door. 
 While he was whistling shrilly for the waiter, as if he had 
 been one of his colHe dogs, Mannering looked round him, 
 and could hardly conceive how a gentleman of a liberal 
 profession, and good society, should choose such a scene 
 for social indulgence. Besides the miserable entrance, 
 the house itself seemed paltry and half ruinous. The 
 passage in which they stood had a window to the close, 
 which admitted a Httle light during the day-time, and a 
 villanous compound of smells at ail times, but more espe- 
 
76 ' WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 cially towards evening. Corresponding to tMs windovv 
 was a borrowed light on the other side of the passage, 
 looking into the kitchen, which had no direct communica- 
 tion with the free air, but received in the day-time, at 
 second-hand, such straggling and obscure light as found 
 its way from the lane through the window opposite. At 
 present, the interior of the kitchen was visible by its own 
 huge fires — a sort of Pandemonium, where men and 
 women, half undressed, were busied in baking, broiling, 
 roasting oysters, and preparing devils on the gridiron; 
 the mistress of the place, with her shoes slip-shod, and 
 her hair straggling like that of Megaera from under a 
 round-eared cap, toiling, scolding, receiving orders, giving 
 them, and obeying them all at once, seemed the presiding 
 enchantress of that gloomy and fiery region. 
 
 Loud and repeated bursts of laughter, from different 
 quarters of the house, proved that her labours were ac- 
 ceptable, and not unrewarded by a generous public 
 With some difficulty a waiter was prevailed upon to show 
 Colonel Mannering and Dinmont the room where their 
 friend, learned in the law, held his hebdomadal carousals. 
 The scene which it exhibited, and particularly the attitude 
 of the counsellor himself, the principal figure therein, 
 struck his two clients with amazement. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell was a lively, sharp-looking gentleman, 
 with a professional shrewdness in his eye, and, generally 
 speaking, a professional formality in his manners. But 
 this, like his three-tailed wig and black coat, he could slif 
 off on a Saturday evening, when surrounded by a party 
 of jolly companions, and disposed for what he called his 
 altitudes. On the present occasion, the revel had lasted 
 since four o'clock, and at length, under the direction of a 
 venerable compotator, who had shared the sports and fes* 
 
GUY MANXERING. 77 
 
 tivitj of tliree generations, the frolicsome company had 
 begun to practise the ancient and now forgotten pastime 
 of Hlgli Jinhs. This game was played in several differ- 
 ent ways. Most frequently the dice were thrown by the 
 company, and those upon whom the lot fell were obliged 
 to assume and maintain for a time, a certain fictitious 
 character, or to repeat a certain number of fescennino 
 verses in a particular order. If they departed from the 
 characters assigned, or if their memory j^roved treacher- 
 ous \^ the repetition, they incurred forfeits, which were 
 either compounded for by swallowing an additional 
 bumper, or by paying a small sum towards the reckoning. 
 At this sport the jovial company were closely engaged, 
 when Mannering entered the room. 
 
 Mr. Counsellor Pleydell, such as we have described 
 him, was enthroned, as a monarch, in an elbow-chair, 
 placed on the dining-table, his scratch wig on one side, his 
 head crowned with a bottle-slider, his eye leering with an 
 expression betwixt fun and the effects of wine, while his 
 court around him resounded with such crambo scraps of 
 verse as these : 
 
 "WTiere is GeruBto now ? and what's become of him ? 
 Gerunto's di-owned because he could not swim, &c. &;c. 
 
 Such, O Themis, were anciently the sports of thy Scot- 
 tish children ! Dmmont was first in the room. He 
 stood aghast a moment, — and then exclaimed, " It's him, 
 sure enough — Deil o' the hke o' that ever I saw ! " 
 
 At the sound of " Mr. Dinmont and Colonel Manner- 
 ing wanting to speak to you, sir," Pleydell turned his 
 head, and blushed a little when he saw the very genteel 
 figure of the English stranger. He was, however, of 
 the opinion of Falstaff, "Out, ye villains,, play out the 
 
78 WAVERLEY XOTELS. 
 
 plaj ! " wisely judging it the better way to appear totally 
 unconcerned. ^' Where be our guards ? " exclaimed this 
 second Justinian ; " see ye not a stranger kniglit from 
 foreign parts arrived at tliis our court of Holyrood, — with 
 our bold yeoman Andrew Dinmont, who has succeeded 
 to the keeping of our royal flocks within the forest of 
 Jedwood, where, thanks to our royal care in the adminis- 
 tration of justice, they feed as safe as if they were within 
 the bounds of Fife ? Where be our heralds, our pursui- 
 vants, our Lyon, our Marchmount, our Carrick, and our 
 Snowdown ? Let the strangers be placed at our board, 
 and regaled as beseemeth their quahty, and this our high 
 hohday — to-morrow we will hear their tidings." 
 
 " So please you, my liege, to-morrow's Sunday," said 
 one of the company. 
 
 " Sunday, is it ? then we will give no offence to the 
 assembly of the ku*k — on Monday shall be their audi- 
 ence." 
 
 Mannering, who had stood at first uncertain whether to 
 advance or retreat, now resolved to enter for the moment 
 into the whim of the scene, though internally fretting at 
 Mac-Morlan for sendiug him to consult with a crack- 
 brained humourist. He therefore advanced with three 
 profound congees, and craved permission to lay his cre- 
 dentials at the feet of the Scottish monarch, in order to 
 be perused at his best leisure. The gravity with which 
 he accommodated himself to the humour of the moment, 
 and the deep and humble mclination with which he had 
 at first declined, and then accepted, a seat presented by 
 the master of the ceremonies, procured him three rounds 
 of applause. 
 
 " Deil hae me, if they arena a' mad thegither ! " said 
 Dinmont, occujDying with less ceremony a seat at tJo 
 
GUY MANNERING. 79 
 
 bottom of tlie table, " or else tliej hae taen Yule before 
 it comes, and are gaun a-guisardlng." 
 
 A large glass of claret was offered to Mannering, who 
 drank it to the health of the reigning prince. " You ai'e, 
 I presume to guess," said the monarch, " that celebrated 
 Sir Miles Mannering, so renowned in the French wars, 
 and may well pronounce to us if the wines of Gascony 
 lose their flavour in our more northern realm." 
 
 Mannering, agreeably flattered by this allusion to the 
 fame of his celebrated ancestor, replied, by professing 
 himself only a distant relation of the preux chevalier, 
 and added, " that in his opinion the wine was superla- 
 tively good." 
 
 "It's ower cauld for my stamach," said Dinmont, set- 
 ting down the glass (empty, however.) 
 
 " We wiU correct that quality," answered King Paulus, 
 the first of the name ; " we have not forgotten that the 
 moist and humid air of our valley of Liddel inclines to 
 sti'onger potations. — Seneschal, let our faithful yeoman 
 have a cup of brandy ; it will be more germain to the 
 matter." 
 
 " And now," said Mannering, " since we have unwa- 
 rily intruded upon your majesty at a moment of mirthful 
 retirement, be pleased to say when you will indulge a 
 stranger with an audience on those affairs of weight 
 which have brought him to your northern capital." 
 
 The monarch opened Mac-Morlan's letter, and, run- 
 ning it hastily over, exclaimed with his natural voice and 
 manner, "Lucy Bertram of EUangowan, poor dear las- 
 
 sie 
 
 " A forfeit ! a forfeit ! " exclaimed a dozen voices ; 
 '* his majesty has forgot his kingly character." 
 
 " Not a whit ! not a whit ! " replied the king ; — " I'll 
 
80 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 be judged by tliis courteous knight. May not a monarch 
 love a maid of low degree ? Is not King Copbetua and 
 the Beggar-maid an adjudged case in point ? " 
 
 " Professional ! professional ! — another forfeit ! " ex 
 claimed the tumultuary nobiHty. 
 
 " Had not our royal predecessors," cor inued the mon- 
 arch, exalting his sovereign voice to drown these dis- 
 affected clamours, — " had they not their Jean Logies, 
 their Bessie Carmichaels, their Oliphants, their Sandi- 
 lands, and then- Weirs, and shall it be denied to us even 
 to name a maiden whom we dehght to honour ? Nay, 
 then, sink state, and perish sovereignty ! for, like a second 
 Charles V., we will abdicate, and seek in the private 
 shades of hfe those pleasures which are denied to a 
 throne." 
 
 So saying he flung away his crown, and sprung from 
 his exalted station with more agility than could have been 
 expected from his age, ordered lights and a wash-hand 
 basin and towel, with a cup of green tea, into another 
 room, and made a sign to Mannei-ing to accompany him. 
 In less than two minutes he washed his face and hands, 
 settled his wig in the glass, and, to Mannering's great 
 surprise, looked quite a different man from the childish 
 Bacchanal he had seen a moment before. 
 
 " There are folks," he said, " Mr. Mannering, before 
 whom one should take care how they play the fool — 
 because they have either too much malice, or too Httle 
 wit, as the poet says. The best compliment I can pay 
 Colonel Mannering, is to show I am not ashamed to 
 expose myself before him — and truly I think it is a com- 
 pliment I have not spared to-night on your good-nature. — 
 But what's that great strong fellow wanting ? " 
 
 Dinmont, who had pushed after Mannering into the 
 
GUY MANNERxNG. 81 
 
 room, began witli a scrape of his foot and a scratch of 
 his head in unison. " I am Dandie Dinmont, sir, of the 
 Charhes-hope — the Liddesdale lad — ye'll mind me ? It 
 was for me you won yon grand plea." 
 
 " What plea, you loggerhead ? " said the lawyer ; 
 ** d'ye think I can remember all the fools that come to 
 plague me ? " 
 
 " Lord, sir, it was the grand plea about the grazing o* 
 the Langtae-head," said the farmer. 
 
 " Well, curse thee, never mind ; — give me the memo- 
 rial,* and come to me on Monday at ten," replied the 
 learned counsel. 
 
 " But, sir, I haena got ony distinct memorial." 
 
 " No memorial, man ? " said Pleydell. 
 
 " Na, sir, nae memorial," answered Dandie ; " for your 
 honour said before, Mr. Pleydell, ye'll mind, that ye 
 liked best to hear us hill-folk tell our ain tale by word o* 
 mouth." 
 
 " Beshrew my tongue that said so ! " answered the 
 counsellor ; " it will cost my ears a dinning. — Well, say 
 in two words what you've got to say — you see the gentle- 
 man waits." 
 
 " Ou, sir, if the gentleman likes he may play his ain 
 spring first ; it's a' ane to Dandie." 
 
 " Now, you looby," said the lawyer, " cannot you con- 
 ceive that your business can be nothing to Colonel Man- 
 nering, but that he may not choose to have these great 
 ears of thine regaled with his matters ? " 
 
 " Aweel, sir, just as you and he hke, so ye see to my 
 
 business," said Dandie, not a whit disconcerted by the 
 
 roughness of this reception. " We're at the auld wark 
 
 o' the marches again, Jock o' Dawston Cleugh and me. 
 
 * The Scottish memorial corresponds to the English brief. 
 
 VOL. IV. 6 
 
82 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Ye see we march on the tap o' Touthop-rigg after we 
 pass the Pomoragrains ; for the Pomoragrains, and 
 Slackenspool, and Bloodjlaws, thej come in there, and 
 thej belang to the Peel ; but after je pass Pomoragi-ains 
 at a muckle great saucer-headed cutlugged stane, that 
 they ca' Charhes Chuckle, there Dawston Cleugh and 
 CharHes-hope they march. Now, I say, the march rius 
 on the tap o' the hill where the \Nand and water shears ; but 
 Jock o' Dawston Cleugh again, he contravenes that, and 
 says that it hands down by the auld di'ove-road that gaea 
 awa by the Knot o' the Gate ower to Keeldar-wai'd — > 
 and that makes an unco difference." 
 
 " And what difference does it make friend ? " said 
 Pleydell. " How many sheep will it feed ? " 
 
 " Ou, no mony," said Dandie, scratching his head ; 
 " it's lying high and exposed — it may feed a hog, or 
 aiblins twa in a good year." 
 
 " And for this grazing, which may be worth about five 
 shillings a-year, you are willing to thi'ow away a hundred 
 pound or two ? " 
 
 " Na, sir, it's no for the value of the grass," replied 
 Dinmont, " it's for justice." 
 
 " My good friend," said Pleydell, "justice, like charity, 
 should begin at home. Do you justice to your wife and 
 family, and think no more about the matter." 
 
 Dinmont still hngered, twisting his hat in his hand — 
 " It's no for that, sir, — but I would like ill to be bragged 
 wi' him ; — he threeps he'll bring a score o' witnesses and 
 mair — and I'm sure there's as mony will swear for me 
 as for him, folk that lived a' their days upon the Charlies* 
 hope, and wadna like to see the land lose its right." 
 
 " Zounds, man, if it be a point of honour," said the 
 lawyer, " why don't your landlords take it up ? " 
 
GUT MANNERING. 83 
 
 "I dinna ken, sir," (scratching Ms liead again ;) 
 " there's been nae election-dusts lately, and the lairds are 
 unco neighbourly, and Jock and me cannot get them to 
 yoke thegither about it a' that we can say ; but if ye 
 thought we might keep up the rent " 
 
 " No ! no ! that will never do," said Pleydell ; — " con- 
 found you. why don't you take good cudgels, and settle 
 it?" 
 
 " Od, sir," answered the farmer, " we tried that three 
 times already — that's twice on the land and ance at Lock- 
 erby fair. But I dinna ken — we're baith gey good at 
 single-stick, and it couldna weel be judged." 
 
 " Then take broadswords, and be d — d to you, as your 
 fathers did before you," said the counsel learned in the 
 law. 
 
 " Aweel, sir, if ye think it wadna be again the law, it's 
 a* ane to Dandie." 
 
 " Hold ! hold ! " exclaimed Pleydell, " we shall have 
 another Lord Soulis' mistake — Pr'ythee, man, compre- 
 hend me ; I wish you to consider how very trifling and 
 foolish a lawsuit you wish to engage in." 
 
 "Ay, sir ? " said Dandie, in a disappointed tone. ". So 
 ye winna take on wi' me, I'm doubting ? " 
 
 " Me ! not I — Go home, go home, take a pint and 
 agree." Dandie looked but half contented, and still 
 remained stationary. " Anything more, my friend ? " 
 
 " Only, sir, about the succession of this leddy that's 
 dead, — auld Miss Margaret Bertram o' Singleside." 
 
 " Ay, what about her ? " said the counsellor, rather 
 surprised. 
 
 " Ou, we have nae connexion at a' wi' the Bertrams," 
 eaid Dandie — " they were grand folk by the like o' us. — 
 But Jean Liltup, that was auld Singleside's housekeeper, 
 
84 WAVEKLET NOYELS. 
 
 and the motlier of these twa young ladies that are gane — 
 the last o' them's dead at a ripe age, I trow — Jean Liltup 
 came out o' Liddel water, and she was as near our con- 
 nexion as second cousin to my mother's half-sister. She 
 drew up wi' Singleside, nae doubt, when she was his 
 housekeeper, and it was a sair vex and gi'ief to a' her kith 
 and kin. But he acknowledged a marriage, and satisfied 
 the kirk — and now I wad ken frae you if we hae not 
 some claim by law ? " 
 
 " Not the shadow of a claim." 
 
 " Aweel, we're nae puirer," said Dandle, — " but she 
 may hae thought on us if she was minded to make a 
 testament. — Weel, sir, I've said my say — I'se e'en wish 
 you good-night, and " putting his hand in his pocket. 
 
 " No, no, my friend ; I never take fees on Saturday 
 night, or without a memorial — away with you, Dandie." 
 And Dandie made his reverence, and departed ao 
 cordingly. 
 
GUY MAN.NERING. 85 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYII. 
 
 But this poor farce has neither truth, nor art, 
 To please the fancy or to touch the heart. 
 Dark but not awful, dismal but yet mean, 
 With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene ; 
 Presents no objects tender or profound. 
 But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around. 
 
 Parish Register. 
 
 " Your majesty," said Mannering, laughing, " lias 
 Bolemnized your abdication by an act of mercy and 
 charity. — That fellow will scarce think of going to law." 
 
 " Oh, you are quite wrong,'' said the experienced law- 
 yer. " The only difference is, I have lost iiiy client and 
 my fee. He'll never rest till he finds somebody to en- 
 courage him to commit the folly he has predetermined. — 
 No ! no ! I have only shown you another weakness of my 
 chai'acter — ^I always speak truth of a Saturday night." 
 
 " And sometimes through the week, I should think," 
 said Mannering, continuing the same tone. 
 
 " Why, yes ; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, 
 as Hamlet says, indifferent honest, when my clients and 
 their solicitors do not make me the medium of conveying 
 their double-distilled lies to the bench. But oportet vi- 
 vere / it is a sad thing. — And now to our business. I am 
 glad my old friend Mac-Morlan has sent you to me ; he 
 is an active, honest, and intelligent man, long sheriff- 
 substitute of the county of under me, and still holds 
 
86 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 the office. Hi; knows I have a regard for that unfor- 
 tunate family of Eilaiigowan, and for poor Lucy. I have 
 not seen her since she was twelve years old, and she wag 
 then a sweet pretty girl under the management of a very 
 silly father. But my interest in her is of an early date. 
 I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being then sheriff of 
 that county, to investigate the particulars of a murder 
 which had been committed near EUaugowan the day on 
 which this poor child was born ; and Avhich, by a strange 
 combination that I was unhappily not able to trace, in- 
 volved the death or abstraction of her only brother, a boy 
 of about five years old. No, Colonel, I shall never forget 
 the misery of the house of EUangowan that morning ! — 
 the father half-distracted — the mother dead in premature 
 travail — the helpless infant, with scarce any one to attend 
 it, coming wawling and crying into this miserable world 
 at such a moment of unutterable misery. We laAvyers 
 are not of iron, sir, or of brass, any more than you 
 soldiers are of steel. We are conversant with the crimes 
 and distresses of civil society, as you are with those that 
 occur in a state of war — and to do our duty in either 
 case, a little apathy is perhaps necessary. — But the devil 
 take a soldier whose heart can be as hard as his sword, 
 and his dam catch the lawyer who bronzes his bosom 
 instead of his forehead ! — But come, I am losing my 
 Saturday at e'en — will you have the kindness to trust me 
 with these papers which relate to Miss Bertram's busi- 
 ness ? — And stay — to-morrow you'll take a bachelor's 
 dinner with an old lawyer, — I insist upon it, at three 
 precisely — and come an hour sooner. — The old lady is to 
 be buried on Monday ; it is the orphan's cause, and we'll 
 borrow an hour from the Sunday to talk over this busi- 
 ness — although I fear nothing can be done if she has 
 
GUT MANNERING. 37 
 
 altered her settlement — unless perhaps it occurs within 
 the sixty days, and then if Miss Bertram can show that 
 she possesses the character of heir-at-law, why 
 
 " But, hark ! my lieges are impatient of their interreg' 
 num — I do not invite you to rejoin us, Colonel ; it would 
 be a trespass on your complaisance, unless you had begun 
 the day with us, and gradually glided on from wisdom to 
 mii'th, and from mirth to — to — to — extravagance. — Good- 
 right. — Harry, go home with Mr. Mannering to his 
 lodging. — Colonel, I expect you at a little past two 
 to-morrow." 
 
 The Colonel returned to his inn, equally surprised at 
 the childish froKcs in which he had found his learned 
 counsellor engaged, at the candour and sound sense which 
 he had in a moment summoned up to meet the exigencies 
 of his profession, and at the tone of feehng w^hich he 
 displayed when he spoke of the friendless orphan. 
 
 In the morning, while the Colonel and his most quiet 
 and silent of all retainers. Dominie Sampson, were finish- 
 ing the breakfast which Barnes had made and poured 
 out, after the Dominie had scalded himself in the attempt, 
 Mr. Pleydell was suddenly ushered in. A nicely-dressed 
 bob-wig, upon every hair of which a zealous and careful 
 barber had bestowed its proper allowance of powder ; a 
 well-brushed black suit, with very clean shoes and gold 
 buckles and stock-buckle ; a manner rather reserved and 
 formal than intrusive, but, withal, showing only the for- 
 mality of manner, by no means that of awkwardness ; a 
 countenance, the expressive and somewhat comic features 
 of which were in complete repose, — all showed a beirg 
 perfectly different from the choice spirit of the evening 
 before. A glance of shrewd and piercing fire in liis eye 
 was the only marked expression which recalled the man 
 pf " Saturday at e'en." 
 
88 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " I am come," said he, with a very poliLe address, " to 
 use my regal authority in your behalf in siDirituals as 
 well as temporals — can I accompany you to the Presby- 
 terian kirk, or Episcopal meeting-house ? Tros Tyriusve 
 —a lawyer, you know is of both religions, or rather I 
 should say of both forms — or can I assist in passing the 
 forenoon otherwise? You'll excuse my olJ-fashioned 
 importunity — I was born in a time when a Scotchman 
 was thought inhospitable if he left a guest alone a 
 moment, except when he slept — but I trust you will teU 
 me at once if I intrude." 
 
 " Not at all, my dear sir," answered Colonel Mannering 
 — " I am delighted to put myself under your pilotage. I 
 should wish much to hear some of your Scottish preachers 
 whose talents have done such honour to your country — 
 your Blair, your Robertson, or your Henry ; and I em- 
 brace your kind offer with all my heart. — Only," drawing 
 the lawyer a little aside, and turning liis eye towards 
 Sampson, " my worthy friend there in the reverie is a 
 little helpless and abstracted, and my servant, Barnes, 
 who is his pilot in ordinary, cannot well assist him here, 
 especially as he has expressed his determination of going 
 to some of your darker and more remote places of 
 worship." 
 
 The lawyer's eye glanced at Dominie Sampson. " A 
 curiosity worth preserving — and I'll find you a fit custo- 
 dier. — Here you, sir," (to the waiter,) " go to Luckie 
 Finlayson's in the Cowgate for Miles Macfin the cadie — 
 he'll be there about this time, — and tell him I wish to 
 epeak to him." 
 
 The person wanted soon arrived. " I will commit your 
 friend to this man's charge," said Pleydell ; " he'll attend 
 him, or conduct him, wherever he chooses to go, with a 
 
GUY MANNERING. 89 
 
 happy indifference as to kirk or market, meeting or court 
 of justice, or — any other place whatever, and bring him 
 safe home at whatever hour you appoint ; so that Mr. 
 Barnes there may be left to the freedom of his own will." 
 
 This was easily arranged, and the Colonel committed 
 the Dominie to the charge of this man while they should 
 remain in Edinburgh. 
 
 " And now, sir, if you please, we shall go to the Grey- 
 friars church, to hear our historian of Scotland, of the 
 Continent, and of America." 
 
 They were disappointed — he did not preach that 
 morning. — " Never mind," said the counsellor, " have a 
 moment's patience, and we shall do very well." 
 
 The colleague of Dr. Robertson ascended the pulpit.* 
 His external appearance was not prepossessing. A re- 
 markably fair complexion, strangely contrasted with a black 
 wig without a grain of powder ; a narrow chest and a 
 stooping posture ; hands which, placed like props on either 
 side of the pulpit, seemed necessary rather to support the 
 person than to assist the gesticulation of the preacher, — no 
 gown, not even that of Geneva, a tumbled band, and a 
 gesture which seemed scarce voluntary, were the first cir- 
 cumstances which struck a stranger. " The preacher 
 seems a very ungainly person," whispered Mannering to 
 his new friend. 
 
 *' Never fear ; he's the son of an excellent Scottish 
 lawyer f — he'll show blood, I'll warrant him." 
 
 The learned counsellor predicted truly. A lecture was 
 
 * This was the celebrated Dr. Ei'skine, a distinguished clergyman, 
 and a most excellent man. 
 
 t The father of Dr. Erskine was an eminent lawyer, and his Insti- 
 tutes of the Law of Scotland are to this day the text-book of students 
 of that science. 
 
90 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 delivered, fraught Avith new, striking, and entertaining 
 views of Scripture history — a sermon, in which the Cal- 
 vinism of the Kirk of Scotland was ably supported, yet 
 made the basis of a sound system of practical morals, 
 which should neither shelter the sinner under the cloak 
 of speculative faith or of peculiarity of opinion, nor leave 
 him loose to the waves of unbelief and schism. Some- 
 thing there was of an antiquated turn of argument and 
 metaphor, but it only served to give zest and peculiarity 
 to the style of elocution. The sermon was not read — a 
 scrap of paper containing the heads of the discourse was 
 occasionally referred to, and the enunciation, which at 
 first seemed imperfect and embarrassed, became, as the 
 preacher warmed in his progress, animated and distinct ; 
 and although the discourse could not be quoted as a cor- 
 rect specimen of pulpit eloquence, yet Mannering had 
 seldom heard so much learning, metaphysical acuteness, 
 and energy of argument, brought into the service of 
 Clu'istianity. 
 
 " Such," he said, going out of the church, " must have 
 been the preachers to whose unfearing minds, and acute, 
 though sometimes rudely exercised talents, we owe the 
 Reformation." 
 
 " And yet that reverend gentleman," said Pleydell, 
 "whom I love for his father's sake and his own, has 
 nothing of the sour or pharisaical pride which has been 
 imputed to some of the early fathers of the Calvinistic 
 Kirk of Scotland. His colleague and he differ, and head 
 different parties in the kirk, about particular points of 
 church discipline, but without for a moment losing per- 
 sonal regard or respect for each other, or suffering ma- 
 lignity to interfere in an opposition, steady, constant, and 
 apparently conscientious on both sides." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 91 
 
 " And you, Mr. Pleydell, what do you think of their 
 points of difference ? " 
 
 " Why, I hope. Colonel, a plain man may go to heaven 
 vrithout thinking about them at all ; — besides, inter nos, I 
 im a member of the suffering and Episcopal Church of 
 Scotland — the shadow of a shade now, and fortunately 
 so ; — but I love to pray where my fathers prayed before 
 me, without thinking worse of the Presbyterian forms 
 because they do not affect me with the same associations." 
 And with this remark they parted until dinner-time. 
 
 From the awkward access to the lawyer's mansion, 
 Mannering was induced to form very moderate expecta- 
 tions of the entertainment which he was to receive. The 
 approach looked even more dismal by day-Ught than on 
 the preceding evening. The houses on each side of the 
 lane were so close, that the neighbours might have shaken 
 hands with each other from the different sides, and occa- 
 sionally the space between was traversed by wooden 
 galleries, and thus entirely closed up. The stair, the 
 scale-stair, was not well cleaned ; and on entering the 
 house, Mannering was struck with the narrowness and 
 meanness of the wainscotted passage. But the Hbrary, 
 into which he was shown by an elderly respectable look- 
 ing man-servant, was a complete contrast to these un 
 promising appearances. It was a well-proportioned room, 
 hung with a portrait or two of Scottish characters of 
 eminence, by Jamieson, the Caledonian Vandyke, and 
 surrounded with books, the best editions of the best 
 authors, and in particular, an admirable collection of 
 classics. 
 
 " These," said Pleydell, " are my tools of trade. A 
 lawyer without history or hterature is a mechanic, a mere 
 working mason ; if he possesses some knowledge of these, 
 he may venture to call himself an architect." 
 
yZ WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 But Mannering was chiefly delighted with the view 
 from the windows, which commanded that incomparable 
 prospect of the ground between Edinburgh and the sea ; 
 the Frith of Forth, with its islands ; the embayment 
 which is terminated bj the Law of North Berwick ; and 
 the varied shores of Fife to the northwai'd, indenting 
 with a hilly outhne the clear blue horizon. 
 
 When Mr. Pleydell had sufficiently enjoyed the sur- 
 prise of his guest, he called his attention to Miss Ber- 
 tram's affairs. " I was in hopes," he said, " though but 
 faint, to have discovered some means of ascertaining her 
 indefeasible right to this property of Singleside ; but my 
 researches have been in vain. The old lady was cer- 
 tainly absolute fiar, and might dispose of it in full right 
 of property. All that we have to hope is, that the devil 
 may not have tempted her to alter this very proper set- 
 tlement. You must attend the old girl's funeral to-mor- 
 row, to which you will receive an invitation, for I have 
 acquainted her agent with your being here on Miss Ber- 
 tram's part ; and I will meet you afterwards at the house 
 she inhabited, and be present to see fair play at the open- 
 ing of the settlement. The old cat had a little girl, the 
 orphan of some relation, who hved with her as a kind of 
 slavish companion. I hope she has had the conscience 
 to make her independent, in consideration of the peine 
 forte et dure to which she subjected her during her hfe- 
 lime." 
 
 Three gentlemen now appeared, and were introduced 
 to the stranger. They were men of good sense, gaiety, 
 and general information, so that the day passed very 
 pleasantly over ; and Colonel Mannering assisted, about 
 eight o'clock at night, in discussing the landlord's bottle, 
 which was, of course, a magnum. Upon his return to 
 
GUT MANNERING. 93 
 
 the inn, he found a card inviting him to the funeral of 
 Miss Margaret Bertram, late of Singleside, which was to 
 proceed from her own house to the place of interment in 
 the Grejfriars churchyard, at one o'clock, afternoon. 
 
 At the appointed hour, Mannering went to a small 
 house in the suburbs to the southward of the city, where 
 he found the place of mourning, indicated, as usual, in 
 Scotland, by two rueful figures with long black cloaks, 
 white crapes and hat-bands, holding in their hands poles, 
 adorned with melancholy streamers of the same descrip- 
 tion. By two other mutes, who, from their visages, 
 seemed suffering under the pressure of some strange 
 calamity, he was ushered into the dining-parlour of the 
 defunct, where the company were assembled for the 
 funeral. 
 
 In Scotland, the custom, now disused in England, of 
 inviting the relations of the deceased to the interment, 
 is universally retained. On many occasions this has a 
 singular and striking effect, but it degenerates into mere 
 empty form and grimace, in cases where the defunct has 
 had the misfortune to Hve unbeloved and die unlamented. 
 — The English service for the dead, one of the most 
 beautiful and impressive parts of the ritual of the church, 
 would have, in such cases, the effect of fixing the atten- 
 tion, and uniting the thoughts and feelings of the audience 
 present, in an exercise of devotion so pecuharly adapted 
 to such an occasion. But, according to the Scottish 
 custom, if there be not real feehng among the assistants, 
 there is nothing to supply the deficiency, and exalt or 
 rouse the attention ; so that a sense of tedious form, and 
 almost hypocritical restraint, is too apt to pervade the 
 company assembled for the mournful solemnity. Mrs. 
 Margaret Bertram was unluckily one of those whose 
 
94 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 good qualities had attached no general friendship. She 
 had no near relations who might have mourned from 
 natural affection, and therefore her funeral exhibited 
 merely the exterior trappings of sorrow. 
 
 Mannermg, therefore, stood among this lugubriois 
 company of cousins in the third, fourth, fifth, and sixih 
 degree, composing his countenance to the decent solem- 
 nity of all who were around him, and looking as much 
 concerned on Mrs. Margaret Bertram's account, as if the 
 deceased lady of Singleside had been his own sister or 
 mother. After a deep and awful pause, the company 
 began to talk aside — under their breaths, however, and 
 as if m the chamber of a dying person. 
 
 " Our poor friend," said one grave gentleman, scarcely 
 opening his mouth, for fear of deranging the necessary 
 solemnity of his features, and sliding his whisper from 
 between his hps, which were as little unclosed as possible 
 — " our poor friend has died well to pass in the world." 
 
 " Nae doubt," answered the person addressed, with half- 
 closed eyes ; " poor JMrs. Margaret was aye careful of the 
 gear." 
 
 " Any news to-day. Colonel Mannering ? " said one of 
 the gentlemen whom he had dined with the day before, 
 but in a tone which might, for its impressive gravity, have 
 communicated the death of his whole generation. 
 
 " Nothing particular, I believe, sir," said Mannering, 
 in the cadence which was, he observed, appropriated to 
 the house of mourning. 
 
 " I understand," continued the first speaker, emphat- 
 ically, and with the air of one who is well informed — " I 
 understand there is a settlement." 
 
 " And what does little Jenny Gibson get ? " 
 
 " A hundred, and the auld repeater." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 95 
 
 " That's but a sma' gear, puir thing ; she • had a sail 
 •iime o't with the auld leddj. But it's ill waiting for dead 
 folk's shoon." 
 
 " I am afraid," said the politician, who was close by 
 Mannering, " we have not done with your old friend 
 Tippoo Saib yet — I doubt he'll give the Company more 
 plague ; and I am told — but you'll know for certain— 
 that East India Stock is not rising." 
 
 " I trust it will, sir, soon." 
 
 " Mrs. Margaret," said another person, mingling in the 
 conversation, " had some India bonds. I know that, for 
 I drew the interest for her — it would be desirable now 
 for the trustees and legatees to have the Colonel's advice 
 about the time and mode of converting them into money. 
 For my part I think — But there's JMr. Mortcloke to tell 
 us they are gaun to hft." 
 
 Mr. Mortcloke the undertaker did accordingly, with a 
 visage of professional length and most grievous solemnity, 
 distribute among the pall-bearers little cards, assigning 
 their respective situations in attendance upon the coffin. 
 As this precedence is supposed to be regulated by pro- 
 pinquity to the defunct, the undertaker, however skilful a 
 master of these lugubrious ceremonies, did not escape 
 giving some offence. To be related to IVIrs. Bertram 
 was to be of kin to the lands of Singleside, and was a 
 propinquity of which each relative present at that mo- 
 ment was particularly jealous. Some murmurs there 
 were on the occasion, and our friend Dinmont gave more 
 open offence, being unable either to repress his discon- 
 tent, or to utter it in the key properly modulated to the 
 solemnity. " I think ye might hae at least gi'en me a 
 leg o' her to carry," he exclaimed, in a voice considerably 
 loader than propriety admitted. " God ! an it hadna 
 
96 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 been for the rigs o' land, I would hae gotten her a' to 
 cany mysell, for as mony gentles as are here." 
 
 A score of frowning and reproving brows were bent 
 upon the unappalled yeoman, who, having given vent to 
 his displeasure, stalked sturdily down stairs with the rest 
 of the company, totally disregarding the censures of thoie 
 whom his remarks had scandalized. 
 
 And then the funeral pomp set forth ; saulies ?vith 
 their batons, and gumphions of tarnished white crape, in 
 honour of the well-preserved maiden fame of Mrs. Mar- 
 garet Bertram. Six starved horses, themselves the very 
 emblems of mortality, well cloaked and plumed, lugging 
 along the heai'se with its dismal emblazonry, crept in 
 slow state towards the place of interment, preceded by 
 Jamie Duff, an idiot, who with weepers and cravat made 
 of white paper, attended on every funeral, and followed 
 by six mourning coaches, filled with the company. — 
 Many of these now gave more free loose to their tongues, 
 and discussed with unrestained earnestness the amount 
 of the succession, and the probabihty of its destination. 
 The principal expectants, however, kept a prudent 
 silence, indeed ashamed to express hopes which might 
 prove fallacious ; and the agent, or man of business, 
 who alone knew exactly how matters stood, maintained 
 a countenance of mysterious importance, as if determined 
 to preserve the full interest of anxiety and suspense. 
 
 At length they arrived at the churchyard gates, and 
 from thence, amid the gaping of two or three dozen of 
 idle women with infants in their arms, and accompanied 
 by some twenty children, Avho ran gambolling and 
 screaming alongside of the sable procession, they finally 
 ai'rived at the burial-place of the Singleside family. This 
 was a square enclosure in the Greyfriars churchyard; 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 97 
 
 guarded on one side by a veteran angel, without a nose, 
 and having only one wing, who had the merit of having 
 maintained his post for a century, while his comrade 
 cherub, who had stood sentinel on the corresponding 
 pedestal, lay a broken trunk among the hemlock, burdock, 
 and nettles, which grew in gigantic luxuriance around the 
 walls of the mausoleum. A moss-grown and broken 
 inscription informed the reader, that in the year 1650 
 Captain Andrew Bertram, first of Singleside, descended 
 of the very ancient and honourable house of EUangowan, 
 had caused this monument to be erected for himself and 
 his descendants. A reasonable number of scythes and 
 hour-glasses, and death's-heads, and cross-bones, garnished 
 the following sprig of sepulchral poetry, to the memory 
 of the founder of the mausoleum : — 
 
 Nathaniel's heart, Bezaleel's hand, 
 
 If ever any had, 
 These boldly do I say had he, 
 
 Who lieth in this bed. 
 
 Here then, amid the deep black fat loam into which 
 her ancestors were now resolved, they deposited the body 
 of Mrs. Margaret Bertram ; and, like soldiers returning 
 from a mihtary funeral, the nearest relations who might 
 be interested in the settlements of the lady, urged the 
 dog-cattle of the hackney coaches to all the speed of 
 which they were capable, in order to put an end to farther 
 suspense on that interesting topic. 
 
 rOL. IT. 
 
98 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVm. 
 
 Die and endow a college or a cat. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 There is a fable told by Lucian, that while a troop of 
 monkeys, well drilled by an inteUigent manager, were 
 performing a tragedy with great applause, the decorum 
 of the whole scene was at once destroyed, and the natural 
 passions of the actors called forth in a very indecent and 
 active emulation, by a wag Avho threw a handful of nuts 
 upon the stage. In like manner, the approaching crisis 
 stirred up among the expectants feelings of a nature very 
 different from those of which, under the superintendence 
 of Mr. Mortcloke, they had but now been endeavouring 
 to imitate the expression. Those eyes which were lately 
 devoutly cast up to heaven, or with greater humility 
 bent solemnly upon earth, were now sharply and alertly 
 darting their glances through shuttles, and trunks, and 
 drawers, and cabinets, and all the odd corners of an old 
 maiden lady's repositories. Nor was their seai-ch with- 
 out interest, though they did not find the will of which 
 they were in quest. 
 
 Here was a promissory-note for £20 by the minister 
 uf the nonjuring chapel, interest marked as paid to 
 IMartinmas last, carefully folded up in a new set of words 
 to the old tune of " Over the Water to Charlie ; " — there, 
 was a curious love correspondence between the deceased 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 99 
 
 and a certain Lieutenant O'Kean, of a marcliing regiment 
 of foot ; and tied up with the letters was a document, 
 which at once explained to the relatives why a connexion 
 that boded them little good had been suddenly broken 
 off, being the Lieutenant's bond for two hundred pounds, 
 upon which no interest whatever appeared to have been 
 paid. Other bills and boids to a larger amount, and 
 signed by better names (I mean commercially) than 
 those of the worthy divine and gallant soldier, also oc- 
 curred in the course of ttieir researches, besides a hoard 
 of coins of every size and denomination, and scraps of 
 broken gold and silver, old ear-rings, hinges of cracked 
 snuff-boxes, mountings of spectacles, &c. &c. &c. Still 
 no will made its appearance, and Colonel Mannering 
 began full well to hope that the settlement which he had 
 obtained from Glossin contained the ultimate arrange- 
 ment of the old lady's affairs. But his friend Pleydell, 
 who now came into the room, cautioned him against 
 entertaining this behef. 
 
 " I am well acquainted with the gentleman," he said, 
 " who is conducting the search, and I guess from his 
 manner that he knows something more of the matter than 
 any of us." Meantime, while the search proceeds, let us 
 take a brief glance at one or two of the company, who 
 seem most interested. 
 
 Of Dinmont, who, with his large hunting-whip under 
 his arm, stood poking his great round face over the 
 ehoulder of the homme d'affaires, it is unnecessary to 
 gay any thing. That thin-looking oldish person, in a 
 most correct and gentleman-like suit of mourning, is Mae- 
 Casquil, formerly of Drumquag, who was ruined by hav- 
 ing a legacy bequeathed to him of two shares in the Ayr 
 bank. His hop^^s on the present occasion are founded on 
 
100 WATERLET NOVELS. 
 
 a very distant relationship, upon his sitting in the same 
 pew with the deceased every Sunday, and upon his play- 
 ing at cribbage with her regularly on the Saturday 
 evenings — taking great care never to come off a winner. 
 That other coarse-looking man, wearing his own greasy 
 hair tied in a leathern cue more greasy still, is a tobac- 
 conist, a relation of Mrs. Bertram's mother, who, having 
 a good stock in trade when the colonial war broke out, 
 trebled the price of his commodity to all the world, jSIis. 
 Bertram alone excepted, whose tortoise-shell snuff-box 
 was weekly filled with the best rappee at the old prices, 
 because the maid brought it to the shop with Mrs. Ber- 
 tram's respects to her cousin Mr. Quid. That young 
 fellow, who has not had the decency to put off his boots 
 and buck-skins, might have stood as forward as most of 
 them in the graces of the old lady, who loved to look upon 
 a comely young man ; but it is thought he has forfeited 
 the moment of fortune, by sometimes neglecting her tea- 
 table when solemnly invited ; sometimes appearing there, 
 when he had been dining with blither company ; twice 
 treading upon her cat's tail, and once affronting her 
 parrot. 
 
 To Mannering, the most interesting of the group was 
 the poor girl, who had been a sort of humble companion 
 of the deceased, as a subject upon whom she could at all 
 times expectorate her bad humour. She was for form's 
 sake dragged into the room by the deceased's favourite 
 female attendant, where, shrinking into a comer as soon 
 as possible, she saw with wonder and affright the intrusive 
 researches of the strangers amongst those recesses to 
 which from childhood she had looked with awful venera- 
 tion. This girl was regarded with an unfavourable eye 
 by all the competitors, honest Dinmont only excepted 
 
GUY MANNERING. 101 
 
 the rest conceived tliey should find in her a formidable 
 competitor, whose claims might at least encumber and 
 diminish their chance of succession. Yet she was the 
 only person present who seemed really to feel sorrow 
 for the deceased. Mrs. Bertram had been her protectress, 
 although from selfish motives, — and her capricious tyranny 
 was forgotten at the moment while the tears followed each 
 other fast down the cheeks of her frightened and friend- 
 less dependent. " There's ower muckle saut water there, 
 Drumquag," said the tobacconist to th,^ ex-proprietor, " to 
 bode ither folk muckle gude. Folk seldom greet that 
 gate but they ken what it's for." Mr. Mac-Casquil only 
 replied with a nod, feeling the propriety of asserting his 
 superior gentry in presence of Mr. Pleydell and Colonel 
 Mannering. 
 
 " Very queer if there suld be nae will, after a', friend,'* 
 said Dinmont, who began to grow impatient, to the man 
 of business. 
 
 " A moment's patience, if you please — she was a good 
 and prudent woman, Mrs. Margaret Bertram — a good 
 and prudent and well-judging woman, and knew how to 
 choose friends and depositories ; she may have put her 
 last will and testament, or rather her mortis causa settle- 
 ment, as it relates to heritage, into the hands of some safe 
 friend." 
 
 " I'll bet a rump and dozen," said Pleydell, whispering 
 to the Colonel, " he has got it in his own pocket ; " — then 
 addressing the man of law, " Come, sir, we'll cut this short 
 if you please — here is a settlement of the estate of Single- 
 side, executed several years ago, in favour of Miss Lucy 
 Berti-am of Ellangowan " The company stared fear- 
 fully wild. " You, I presume, Mr. Protocol, can inform 
 as if there is a later deed "i " 
 
102 WAYERLEY NOYELS. 
 
 " Please to favour me, ]VIi\ Plejdell ; " — and so saying, 
 he took the deed out of the learned counsel's hand, an^ 
 glanced his eje over the contents. 
 
 " Too cool," said Plejdell, " too cool by half — he h^ ^. 
 another deed in his pocket still." 
 
 " Why does he not show it then, and be d — d to him ! " 
 said the military gentleman, whose patience began to wax 
 threadbare. 
 
 " Why, how should I know ? " answered the barrister — 
 " why does a cat not kill a mouse when she takes him ? — 
 the consciousness of power and the love of teasing, I sup- 
 pose. — Well, Mr. Protocol, what say you to that deed ? " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Pleydell, the deed is a well-drawn deed, 
 properly authenticated and tested in forms of the statute.'* 
 
 " But recalled or superseded by another of posterior 
 date in your possession, eh ? " said the counsellor. 
 
 " Something of the sort, I confess, Mr. Pleydell," re- 
 joined the man of business, producing a bundle tied with 
 tape, and sealed at each fold and ligation with black wax. 
 " That deed, Mr. Pleydell, which you produce and found 
 upon, is dated 1st June, 17 — ; but this" — breaking the 
 seals and unfolding the document slowly — " is dated the 
 20th — no, 1 see it is the 21st, of April of this present 
 year, being ten years posterior." 
 
 " Marry, hang her, brock ! " said the counsellor, borrow- 
 ing an exclamation from Sir Toby Belch — "just the 
 month in which Ellangowan's distresses became generally 
 public. But let us hear what she has done." 
 
 Mr. Protocol accordingly, having required silence, 
 began to read the settlement aloud in a slow, steady, 
 business-like tone. The group around, in whose eyes 
 hope alternately awakened and faded, and who were 
 straining their apprehensions to get at the drift of the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 103 
 
 tt^stator's meaning through the mist of technical language 
 in which the conveyance had involved it, might have 
 made a study for Hogarth. 
 
 The deed was of an unexpected nature. It set forth 
 with conveying and disponing all and whole the estate 
 and lands of Singleside and others, with the lands of 
 Loverless, Liealone, Spinster's Knowe, and heaven knows 
 what beside, " to and in favours of " (here the reader 
 softened his voice to a gentle and modest piano) " Peter 
 Protocol, clerk to the signet, having the fullest confidence 
 in his capacity and integrity, — (these are the very words 
 which my worthy deceased friend insisted upon my insert- 
 ing,) — But in TRUST always," (here the reader recovered 
 his voice and style, and the visages of several of the hear- 
 ers, which had attained a longitude that Mr. Mortcloke 
 might have envied, were perceptibly shortened,) " in 
 TRUST always, and for the uses, ends, and purposes 
 hereinafter mentioned." 
 
 In these " uses, ends, and purposes," lay the cream of 
 the affair. The first was introduced by a preamble set- 
 ting forth, that the testatrix was lineally descended from 
 the ancient house of Ellangowan, her respected great- 
 grandfather, Andrew Bertram, first of Singleside, of happy 
 memory, having been second son to Allan Bertram, fif- 
 teenth Baron of Ellangowan. It proceeded to state, that 
 Henry Bertram, son and heir of Godfrey Bertram, now 
 of Ellangowan, had been stolen from his parents in in- 
 fancy, but that she, the testatrix, was well assured that he 
 was yet alive in foreign parts, and by the providence of 
 heaven would he restored to the possessions of his anceitors 
 — in which case the said Peter Protocol was bound and 
 obhged, likeas he bound and obliged himself, by afcept- 
 ftnce of these presents, to denude himself of the said Ian Is 
 
104 TVAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 of Singleside and others, and of all the other effects 
 thereby conveyed (excepting always a proper gratification 
 for his own trouble) to and in favour of the said Henry 
 Bertram, upon his return to his native country. And 
 during the time of his residing in foreign parts, or in case 
 of his never again returning to Scotland, JMr. Peter Pro- 
 tocol, the trustee, was directed to distribute the rents of 
 the land, and interest of the other funds, (deducting always 
 a proper gratification for his trouble in the premises,) 
 in equal portions, among four charitable estabhshments 
 pointed out in the wiU. The power of management, of 
 letting leases, of raising and lending out money, in short, 
 the full authority of a proprietor, was vested in this confi- 
 dential trustee, and, in the event of his death, went to 
 certain official persons named in the deed. There were 
 only two legacies, — one of a hundred pounds to a favour- 
 ite waiting-maid, another of the like sum to Janet Gibson, 
 (whom the deed stated to have been supported by the 
 charity of the testatrix,) for the purpose of binding her 
 an apprentice to some honest trade. 
 
 A settlement in mortmain is in Scotland termed a 
 mortijication, and in one great borough (Aberdeen, if I 
 remember righth^) there is a municipal officer who takeg 
 care of these public endowments, and is thence called the 
 Master of Mortifications. One would almost presume 
 that the term had its origin in the effisct which such 
 settlements usually produce upon the kinsmen of thosp- 
 by whom they are executed. Heavy at least was the 
 mortification which befell the audience, who, in the late 
 j\Irs. Margai'Ct Bertram's pai'lour, had Hstened to this 
 unexpected destination of the lands of Singleside. 
 There was a profound silence after the deed had been 
 read over. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 105 
 
 Mr. Pleydell was the first to speak. He begged to 
 ook at the deed, and having satisfied himself that it was 
 correctly drawn and executed, he returned it without any 
 observation, only saying aside to Mannering, " Protocol 
 is not worse than other people, I believe ; but this old 
 lady has determined, that if he do not turn rogue, it shall 
 not be for want of temptation." 
 
 " I really think," said Mr. Mac-Casquil of Drum<i[uag, 
 who, having gulped down one half of his vexation, de- 
 termined to give vent to the rest — " I really think this ig 
 an extraordinary case ! I should like now to know from 
 Mr. Protocol, who, being sole and unhmited ti'ustee, must 
 have been consulted upon this occasion — I should like, I 
 say, to know, how Mrs. Bertram could possibly believe 
 in the existence of a boy, that a' the world kens was 
 murdered many a year since ? " 
 
 " Really, sir," said Mr. Protocol, " I do not conceive it 
 is possible for me to explain her motives more than she 
 has done herself. Our excellent deceased friend was a 
 good woman, sir — a pious woman — and might have 
 grounds for confidence in the boy's safety which are not 
 accessible to us, sir." 
 
 " Hout," said the tobacconist, " I ken very weel what 
 were her grounds for confidence. There's Mrs. Rebecca 
 (the maid) sitting there, has tell'd me a hundred times in 
 my ain shop, there was nae kenning how her leddy wad 
 settle her affairs, for an auld gipsy witch wife at Gilsland 
 had possessed her with a notion, that the callant — Harry 
 Bertram ca's she him ? — would come alive again some 
 day after a' — ye'll no deny that, Mrs. Rebecca ? — though 
 I dare to say ye forgot to put your mistress in mind of 
 what ye promised to say when I gied ye mony a half- 
 •jrown — But ye'll no deny what I am saying now, lass ? " 
 
106 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " I ken naeiliing at a' about it," answered Rebecca, 
 d3ggedly, and looking straight forward with the firm 
 countenance of one not disposed to be compelled to 
 remember more than was agreeable to her. 
 
 " Weel said, Rebecca ! ye're satisfied wi' jour ain share 
 on J way," rejoined the tobacconist. 
 
 The buck of the second-head, for a buck of the first- 
 head he was not, had hitherto been slapping his boots 
 with his switch- whip, and looking hke a spoiled child that 
 has lost its supper. EQs murmurs, however, were all 
 vented inwardly, or at most in a soliloquy such as this — 
 " I am sorry, by G — d, I ever plagued myself about her 
 — I came here, by G — d, one night to drink tea, and I left 
 King, and the Duke's rider. Will Hack. They were 
 toasting a round of running horses ; by G — d, I might 
 have got leave to wear the jacket as well as other folk, 
 if I had carried it on with them — and she has not so 
 much as left me that hundred ! " 
 
 " We'll make the payment of the note quite agreeable," 
 said Mr. Protocol, who had no wish to increase at that 
 moment the odium attached to his ofiice — "And now, 
 gentlemen, I fancy we have no more to wait for here, 
 and — I shall put the settlement of my excellent and 
 worthy friend on record to-morrow, that every gentleman 
 may examine the contents, and have free access to take 
 an extract ; and " — he proceeded to lock up the repos- 
 itories of the deceased with more speed than he had 
 opened them — " Mrs. Rebecca, ye'U be so kind as to keep 
 all right here until we can let the house — I had an offer 
 from a tenant this morning, if such a thing should be, 
 and if I was to have any management." 
 
 Our friend Dinraont, having had his hopes as well as 
 another, had hitherto sate sulky enough in tlie arm-chair 
 
GUY MANNERING. lOlt 
 
 formerly appropriated to the deceased, and In whicli she 
 would have been not a little scandalized to have seen this 
 colossal specimen of the masculine gender lolling at 
 length. His employment had been rolling up, into the 
 form of a coiled snake, the long lash of his horse-whip, 
 and then by a jerk causing it to unroll itself into the 
 middle of the floor. The first words he said when he 
 had digested the shock, contained a magnanimous declara- 
 tion, which he probably was not conscious of having 
 uttered aloud — " Weel — blude's thicker than water — she's 
 welcome to the cheeses and the hams just the same." 
 But when the trustee had made the above-mentioned 
 motion for the mourners to depart, and talked of the 
 house being immediately let, honest Dinmont got upon 
 his feet, and stunned the company with this blunt ques- 
 tion, " And what's to come o' this poor lassie. then — Jenny 
 Gibson? Sae mony o' us as thought oursells sib to the 
 family when the gear was parting, we may do something 
 for her amang us surely." 
 
 This proposal seemed to dispose most of the assembly 
 instantly to evacuate the premises, although upon Mr. 
 Protocol's motion they had lingered as if around the grave 
 of their disappointed hopes. Drumquag said, or rather 
 muttered, something of having a family of his own, and 
 took precedence, in virtue of his gentle blood, to depart 
 as fast as possible. The tobacconist sturdily stood for- 
 ward, and scouted the motion — " A little huzzie like tha* 
 was weel eneugh provided for already ; and Mr. Protocol^ 
 at ony rate was the proper person to take direction 
 of her, as he had charge of her legacy ; " and after 
 uttering such his opinion in a steady and decisive tone of 
 voice, he also left the place. The buck made a stupid 
 Bnd brutal attempt at a jest upon Mrs. Bertram's recom* 
 
J.08 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 mendation that the poor girl should be taught some honest 
 trade; but encountered a scowl from Colonel Mannering'3 
 darkening eye (to whom, in his ignorance of the tone of 
 good society, he had looked for applause) that made him 
 ache to the very b'ack-bone. He shuffled down stairs, 
 therefore, as fast as possible. 
 
 Protocol, who was really a good sort of man, next 
 expressed his intention to take a temporary charge of the 
 young lady, under protest always, that his so doing should 
 be considered as merely eleemosynary ; when Dinmont 
 at length got up, and, having shaken liis huge dread- 
 nouglit great-coat, as a Newfoundland dog does his shaggy 
 hide when he comes out of the w^ater, ejaculated, " Weel, 
 deil hae me then, if ye hae ony fash wi' her, Mr. Protocol 
 — if she likes to gang hame wi' me, that is. Ye see, 
 Ailie and me. we're weel to pass, and we would like the 
 lassies to hae a wee bit mair lair than oursells, and to be 
 neighbour-like — that wad we. — And ye see Jenny canna 
 miss but to ken manners, and the like o' reading books, 
 and sewing seams — having Hved sae lang wi' a grand 
 lady hke Lady Singleside ; or if she disna ken onything 
 about it, Pm jealous that our bairns will like her a' the 
 better. And PU take care o' the bits o' claes, and what 
 spending siller she maun hae ; so the hundred pound may 
 rin on in your hands, Mr. Protocol, and Pll be adding 
 something till't, till she'll maybe get a Liddlesdale joe 
 that wants something to help to buy the hirsel.* — What 
 d'ye say to that, hinney ? I'll take out a ticket for ye in 
 the fly to Jethart. — Od, but ye maun take a powny after 
 that o'er the Limestane-rig — deil a wheeled carriage ever 
 gaed into Liddesdale.t — ^And I'll be very glad if Mrs. 
 
 * The stock of sheep. 
 
 t The roads of Liddesdale, in Dandie Dinmont' s days, could not bs 
 
GUT MANNERING. 109 
 
 Rebecca comes wi' you, hinnej, and stays a montli or twa 
 while ye're stranger-like." 
 
 While IMrs. Rebecca was courtseying, and endeavouring 
 to mjike the poor orphan girl courtesy instead of crying, 
 and while Dandie, in his rough way, was encouraging 
 them both, old Pleydell had recourse to liis snuiF-box. 
 *' It's meat and drink to me, now. Colonel," he said, as he 
 
 recovered himself, "" to see a clown like this 1 must 
 
 gratify him in his own way — must assist him to ruin 
 himself ; — there's no help for it. Here you Liddesdale 
 Dandie — Charlies-hope — what do they call you ? " 
 
 The farmer turned, infinitely gratified even by this sort 
 of notice ; for in his heart, next to his own landlord he 
 honoured a lawyer in high practice. 
 
 " So you will not be advised against trying that ques- 
 tion about your marches ? " 
 
 " No — ^no, sir — naebody likes to lose their right, and 
 to be laughed at down the haill water. But since your 
 honour's no agreeable, and is may be a friend to the other 
 side like, we maun try some other advocate." 
 
 " There — I told you so. Colonel Mannering ! — Well, 
 sir, if you must needs be a fool, the business is to givi 
 you the luxury of a lawsuit at the least possible expens',, 
 and to bring you off conqueror if possible. Let M.\ 
 Protocol send me your papers, and I will advise him how 
 to conduct your cause. I don't see, after all, why you 
 should not have your lawsuits too, and your feuds in the 
 
 said to exist, and the district was only accessible thi'ough a succession 
 of tremendous morasses. About thirty years ago, the author himself 
 was the first person who ever drove a little open carriage into these 
 wilds ; the excellent roads by which they are now travei'sed being 
 then in some progress. The people stared with no small wonder 
 «,t a sight which many of them had never witnessed in their Uvea 
 before. 
 
110 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Court of Session, as well as your forefathers had their 
 mauslau^jhters and fire-raisintrs." 
 
 " Veiy natural, to be sure, sir. We wad just take the 
 auld gate as readily, if it werena for the law. And as 
 the law binds us, the law should loose us. Besides, a 
 man's aye the better thought o' in our country for having 
 been afore the Feifteen." 
 
 " Excellently argued, my friend ! Away with you, and 
 isend your papers to me. — Come, Colonel, we have no 
 more to do here." 
 
 " God, we'll ding Jock o' Dawston Cleugh now, after 
 a' ! " said Dinmont, slapping his thigh in great exul« 
 tation. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 11 J 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 1 am going to the parliament ; 
 
 Tou understand this bag. If you have any business 
 Depending there, be short, and let me hear it, 
 And pay your fees. 
 
 Little French Lawteb. 
 
 " Shall you be able to carry this honest fellow's cause 
 for him ? " said Mannering. 
 
 " Why, I don't know ; the battle is not to the strong, 
 but he shall come off triumphant over Jock of Dawston 
 if we can make it out. I owe him something. It is the 
 pest of our profession, that we seldom see the best side 
 of human nature. People come to us with every selfish 
 feehng, newly pointed and grinded ; they turn down the 
 very caulkers of their animosities and prejudices, as 
 smiths do with horses' shoes in a white frost. Many a 
 man has come to my garret yonder, that I have at first 
 longed to pitch out at the window, and jet, at length, 
 have discovered that he was only doing as I might have 
 done in his case, being very angry, and, of course, very 
 unreasonable. I have now satisfied myself, that if our 
 profession sees more of human folly and human roguery 
 than others, it is because we witness them acting in that 
 channel in which they can most freely vent themselves. 
 In civilized society, law is the chimney through which 
 all that smoke discharges itself that used to circulate 
 thi'ough the whole house, and put every one's eyes out — ■ 
 
112 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 no wo:i(ler, therefore, that the vent itself should some- 
 times get a little sooty. But we will take care our Lid- 
 desdale man's cause is well conducted and well argued, 
 so all unnecessary expense will be saved — he shall have 
 his pine-apple at wholesale price." 
 
 " Will you do me the pleasure," said Mannering, as 
 they parted, " to dine with me at my lodgings ? my land- 
 lord says he has a bit of red-deer vension, and some ex- 
 cellent wine." 
 
 " Venison — eh ? " answered the counsellor alertly, but 
 presently added — " But no ! it's impossible — and I can't 
 ask you home neither. Monday's a sacred day — so's 
 Tuesday — and Wednesday, we are to be heard in the 
 great teind case in presence — But stay — it's frosty 
 weather, and if you don't leave town, and that venison 
 would keep till Thursday " 
 
 " You will dine with me that day ? " 
 
 " Under certification." 
 
 " Well, then, I will indulge a thought I had of spend- 
 ing a week here ; and if the venison will not keep, why 
 we will see what else our landlord can do for us." 
 
 " Oh, the venison will keep," said Pleydell. " And 
 now, good-by ; — look at these two or three notes, and 
 deliver them if you like the addresses ; I wrote them for 
 you this morning. Farewell; my clerk has been wait- 
 ing this hour to begin a d — d information." — And away 
 walked Mr. Pleydell with great activity, diving through 
 closes and ascending covered stairs, in order to attain the 
 High Street by an access, which, compared to the com 
 mon route, was what the Straits of Magellan are to th? 
 more open but circuitous passage round Cape Horn. 
 
 On looking at the notes of introduction which Pleydell 
 had thrust into his hand, Mannering was gratified witb 
 
GUY MANNERING. 113 
 
 seeing that they were addressed to some of the first 
 literary characters of Scotland — " To David Hume, Esq.'* 
 " To John Home, Esq." « To Dr. Ferguson." " To Dr. 
 Black." "To Lord Kaimes." "To Mr. Hutton." « To 
 John Clerk, Esq. of Eldm." " To Adam Smith Esq." 
 " To Dr. Eoberte on." 
 
 " Upon my word, my legal friend has a good selection 
 of acquaintances — these are names pretty widely blown 
 indeed. An East Indian must rub up his faculties^ a 
 little, and put his mind in order, before he enters this sort 
 of society." 
 
 Mannering gladly availed himself of these introduc- 
 tions ; and we regret deeply it is not in our power to 
 give the reader an account of the pleasure and informa- 
 tion which he received, in admission to a circle never 
 closed against strangers of sense and information, and 
 which has perhaps at no period been equalled, consider- 
 ing the depth and variety of talent which it embraced and 
 concentrated. 
 
 Upon the Thursday appointed, Mr. Pleydell made his 
 appearance at the inn where Colonel JMaunering lodged. 
 The venison proved in high order, the claret excellent ; 
 and the learned counsel, a professed amateur in the affairs 
 of the table, did distinguished honour to both. I am un- 
 certain, however, if even the good cheer gave him more 
 satisfaction than the presence of Dominie Sampson, from 
 whom, in his own juridical style of wit, he contrived to 
 extract great amusement, both for himself and one or two 
 friends whom the Colonel regaled on the same occasion. 
 Tiie grave and laconic simplicity of Sampson's answers 
 to the insidious questions of the barrister, placed the bon- 
 hommie of his character in a more luminous point of view 
 than Mannering had yet seen it. Upon the same occa- 
 
114 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 sion lie drew forth a strange quantity c<f miscellaneous 
 and abstruse, though, generally speaking, useless learning 
 Tlie lawyer afterwards compared his mind to the maga* 
 zine of a paw^nbroker, stowed with goods of every 
 description, but so cumbrously piled together, and iii 
 such total disorganization, that the owner can never lay 
 his hands upon any one article at the moment he has 
 occasion for it. 
 
 As for the advocate himself, he afforded at least aa 
 mucli exercise to Sampson as he extracted amusement 
 from him. When the man of law began to get into his 
 altitudes, and his wit, naturally shrewd and dry, became 
 more lively and poignant, the Dominie looked upon him 
 with that sort of surprise with which we can conceive a 
 tame bear might regard his future associate, the monkey, 
 on their being first introduced to each other. It was 
 Mr. Pleydell's delight to state in grave and serious argu- 
 ment some position which he knew the Dominie would 
 be inclined to dispute. He then beheld with exquisite 
 pleasure the internal labour with which the honest man 
 arranged his ideas for reply, and tasked his inert and 
 sluggish powers to bring up all the heavy artillery of his 
 learning for demolishing the schismatic or heretical 
 opinion which had been stated — when, behold ! before 
 the ordnance could be discharged, the foe had quitted 
 the post, and appeared in a new position of annoyance on 
 the Dominie's flank or rear. Often did he exclaim 
 " Prodigious ! " when, marching up to the enemy in full 
 confidence of victory, he found the field evacuated ; and 
 it may be supposed that it cost him no little labour to 
 attempt a new formation. " He was like a native Indian 
 army," the Colonel said, " formidable by numerical 
 strength and size of ordnance, but liable to be throwo 
 
GUY MANNERING. 115 
 
 into irreparable confusion bj a movement to take tliem 
 in flank." — On the whole, however, the Dominie, though 
 somewhat fatigued with these mental exertions, made 
 at unusual speed and upon the pressure of the moment, 
 reckoned this one of the white days of liis hfe, and 
 always mentioned Mr. Pleydell as a very erudite and 
 fa-ce-ti-ous person. 
 
 By degrees the rest of the party dropped off, and left 
 these three gentlemen together. Their conversation 
 turned to Mrs. Bertram's settlements. — " Now what could 
 drive it into the noddle of that old harridan," said 
 Pieydell, " to disinherit poor Lucy Bertram, under pre- 
 tence of settling her property on a boy who has been so 
 '^ g dead and gone ? — I ask your pardon, Mr. Sampson 
 — I forgot what an affecting case this was for you ; — I 
 remember taking your examination upon it — and I never 
 had so much trouble to make any one speak three words 
 consecutively. — You may talk of your Pythagoreans, or 
 your silent Brahmins, Colonel — go to, I tell you this 
 learned gentleman beats them all in taciturnity — but the 
 words of the wise are precious, and not to be thrown away 
 lightly." 
 
 " Of a surety," said the Dominie, taking his blue- 
 checqued handkerchief from his eyes, " that was a bitter 
 day with me indeed ; ay, and a day of grief hard to be 
 borne — but He giveth strength who layeth on the load." 
 
 Colonel Mannering took this opportunity to request 
 Mr. Pieydell to inform him of the particulars attending 
 the loss of the boy ; and the counsellor, who was fond of 
 talking upon subjects of criminal jurisprudence, especially 
 when connected with his own experience, went through 
 the circumstances at full length. "And what is your 
 opinion upon the result of the whole ? " 
 
116 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Oh, that Kennedy was murdered : it's an old case 
 which has occurred on that coast before now — the case of 
 Smuggler versus Exciseman." 
 
 *' What, then, is your conjecture concerning the fate of 
 the child ? " 
 
 " Oh, murdered too, doubtless," answered Pleydell. 
 " He was old enough to tell what he had seen, and these 
 ruthless scoundrels would not scruple committing a second 
 Bethlehem massacre, if they thought their interest re- 
 quired it." 
 
 The Dominie groaned deeply, and ejaculated, " Enor- 
 mous ! " 
 
 " Yet there was mention of gipsies in the business too, 
 counsellor," sajd Mannering, " and from what that vulgar- 
 looking fellow said after the funeral " 
 
 " Mrs. Margaret Bertram's idea that the child was 
 alive was founded upon the report of a gipsy," said 
 Pleydell, catching at the half-spoken hint — " I envy you 
 the concatenation. Colonel, — it is a shame to me not to 
 have drawn the same conclusion. "We'll follow this busi- 
 ness up instantly — Here, hark ye, waiter, — go down to 
 Luckie Wood's in the Cowgate ; ye'll find my clerk 
 Driver ; he'll be set down to High-Jinks by this time, 
 (for we and our retainers. Colonel, are exceedingly regu- 
 lar in our irregularities ;) tell him to come here instantly, 
 and I will pay his forfeits." 
 
 " He won't appear in character, will he ? " said Man- 
 nering. 
 
 " Ah ! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me," said 
 Pleydell. " But we must have some news from the land 
 of Egypt, if possible. O, if I had but hold of the slight- 
 est thread of this complicated skein, you should see how 
 I would unravel it ! I would work the truth out of your 
 
GUY MANNERING. 117 
 
 Boliemian, as the French call them, better than a Moni' 
 toire, or a Plainte de Tournelle : I know how to manage 
 a refractory witness." 
 
 While Mr. Pleydell was thus vaunting his knowledge 
 of his profession, the waiter re-entered with Mr. Driver, 
 his mouth still greasy with mutton pies, and the froth of 
 the last draught of twopenny yet unsubsided on his upper 
 lip, with such speed had he obeyed the commands of his 
 principal. " Driver, you must go instantly and find out 
 the woman who was old Mrs. Margaret Bertram's maid. 
 Inquire for her everywhere ; but if you find it necessary 
 to have recourse to Protocol, Quid the tobacconist, or any 
 other of these folks, you will take care not to appear your- 
 self, but send some woman of your acquaintance — I dare 
 say you know enough that may be so condescending as 
 to oblige you. When you have found her out, engage 
 her to come to my chambers to-morrow at eight o'clock 
 precisely." 
 
 " What shall I say to make her forthcoming ? " asked 
 the aide-de-camp. 
 
 " Anything you choose," repHed the lawyer. " Is it 
 my business to make lies for you, do you think ? But let 
 her be in prcesentia by eight o'clock, as I have said be- 
 fore." The clerk grinned, made his reverence, and exit. 
 
 " That's a useful fellow," said the counsellor ; — " 1 
 don't believe his match ever carried a process. He'll 
 write to my dictating three nights in the week without 
 sleep, or, what's the same thing, he writes as well and 
 correctly when he's asleep as when he's awake. Then 
 he's such a steady fellow — some of them are always 
 changing their alehouses, so that they have twenty cadies 
 sweating after them, like the bare-headed captains trav- 
 ersing the taverns of East- Cheap in search of Sir John 
 
118 ^ WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Falstaff. But this is a complete fixture ; — he has his 
 winter seat by the fire, and his summer seat by the 
 window, in Luckie Wood's, betwixt which seats are his 
 only migrations — there he's to be found at all times when 
 he is off" duty. It is my opinion he never puts off his 
 clothes or goes to sleep ; — sheer ale supports him under 
 everything ; it is meat, drink, and clothing, bed, board, 
 and washing." 
 
 " And is he always fit for duty upon a sudden turn- 
 out ? I should distrust it, considering his quarters." 
 
 " Oh, drink never disturbs him, Colonel ; he can write 
 for hours after he cannot speak. I remember being 
 called suddenly to draw an appeal case. I had been 
 dining, and it was Saturday night, and I had ill will to 
 begin to it ; however, they got me down to Clerihugh's, and 
 there we sat birling till I had a fair tappit hen * under 
 my belt, and then they persuaded me to draw the paper. 
 Then we had to seek Driver, and it was all that two men 
 could do to bear him in, for, when found, he was, as it 
 happened, both motionless and speechless. But no sooner 
 was his pen put between his fingers, his paper stretched 
 before him, and he heard my voice, than he began to 
 WTfite like a scrivener — and, excepting that we were 
 obliged to have somebody to dip his pen in the ink, for he 
 could not see the standish, I never saw a thing scrolled 
 more handsomely." 
 
 * Th9 Tappit Hen contained three quarts of claret^ 
 Weel she lo'ed a Hawick gill, 
 And leugb to see a Tappit Hen. 
 
 I have seen one of these formidable stoups at Provost Haswell's, at 
 Jedburgh, in the days of yore. It was a pewter measure, the claiet 
 being in ancient days served from the tap, and had the figure of a hen 
 upon the lid. In later times, the name was given to a glass bottle of 
 the same dimensions. These are rare apparitions among the degener- 
 ate topers of modem days. 
 
GUT MANNERING. 119 
 
 "But liow did your joint production look the next 
 morning ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " Wheugh ! capital — not three words required to be 
 altered ; * it was sent off by that day's post. But you'll 
 come and breakfast with me to-morrow, and hear this 
 woman's examination ? " 
 
 * The account given by Mr. Pleydell, of his sitting down in the 
 midst of a revel to draw an appeal case, was taken from a story told 
 me by an aged gentleman, of the elder President Dundas of Arniston, 
 (father of the younger President, and of Lord Melville.) It had been 
 thought very desirable, while that distinguished lawyer was King's 
 counsel, that his assistance should be obtained in drawing an appeal 
 case, which, as occasion for such writings then rarely occurred, was 
 held to be matter of great nicety. The Solicitor employed for the ap- 
 pellant, attended by my informant acting as his clerk, went to the Lord 
 Advocate's chambers in the Fishmarket Close, as I think. It was Sat- 
 urday at noon, the Court was just dismissed, the Lord Advocate had 
 changed his dress and booted himself, and his servant and horses were 
 at the foot of the close to carry him to Arniston. It was scarcely pos- 
 sible to get him to listen to a word respecting business. The wily 
 agent, however, on pretence of asking one or two questions, which 
 would not detain him half an hour, drew his Lordship, who was no 
 less an eminent bon vivant than a lawyer of unequalled talent, to take 
 a whet at a celebrated tavern, when the learned counsel became gi'ad- 
 ually involved in a spirited discussion of the law points of the case. 
 At length it occurred to him that he might as well ride to Arniston 
 in the cool of the evening. The horses were directed to be put in the 
 stable, but not to be unsaddled. Dinner was ordei-ed, the law was laid 
 aside for a time, and the bottle circulated very freely. At nine o'clock 
 at night, after he had been honouring Bacchus for so many hours, 
 the Lord Advocate ordered his horses to be unsaddled, — paper, pen, 
 and ink were brought — he began to dictate the appeal case — and con- 
 tinued at his task till four o'clock the next morning. By next day's 
 post, the solicitor sent the case to London, a chef-d'oRuvre of its kind, 
 and m which, my informant assured me, it was not necessary on revi- 
 sal to correct five words. I am not, therefore, conscious of having 
 overstepped accuracy in describing the manner in which Scottish law- 
 yers of the old time occasionally united the worship of Bacchus witlx 
 that of Themis. My informant was Alexander Keith, Esq., grandfather 
 to my friend, the present Sir Alexander Keith of Ravelstone, and ap" 
 orentice at the time to the writer who conducted the cause. 
 
120 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " Why, your liour is rather early." 
 
 " Can't make it later. If I were not on the boards of 
 the Outer-House precisely as the nme-hours bell rings, 
 there would be a report that I had got an apoplexy, and 
 I should feel the effects of it all the rest of the session." 
 
 " Well, I will make an exertion to wait upon you." 
 
 Here the company broke up for the evening. 
 
 In the morning. Colonel Mannering appeared at the 
 counsellor's chambers, although cursing the raw air of a 
 Scottish morning in December. Mr. Pleydell had got 
 Mrs. Rebecca installed on one side of his fire, accom- 
 modated her with a cup of chocolate, and was ah'eady 
 deeply engaged in conversation with her. " O no, I 
 assure you, Mrs. E-ebecca, there is no intention to chal- 
 lenge your mistress's will ; and I give you my word of 
 honour that youi' legacy is quite safe. You have de- 
 served it by your conduct to your mistress, and I wish it 
 had been twice as much." 
 
 " Why, to be sure, sir, it's no right to mention what is 
 said before ane — ^ye heard how that dirty body Quid cast 
 up to me the bits o' comphments he gied me, and tell'd 
 ower again ony loose cracks I might hae had wi' him ; — • 
 now if ane was talking loosely to your honour, there's 
 nae saying what might come o't." 
 
 "I assure you, my good Rebecca, my character and 
 ^our own age and appearance are your security, if you 
 should talk as loosely as an amatory poet." 
 
 " Aweel, if your honour thinks I am safe — the story is 
 just this. — Ye see, about a year ago, or no just sae lang, 
 my leddy was advised to go to Gilsland for a while, for 
 her spirits were distressing her sair. Ellaiigowan's trou- 
 bles began to be spoken o' publicly, and sair vexed she 
 was ; for she was proud o' her family. For EUangowan 
 
GUY MANNERING. 121 
 
 himsell and her, they sometimes 'greed, and sometimes 
 no ; but at last they didna 'gree at a' for twa or three 
 year — for he was aye wanting to borrow siller, and that 
 was what she couldna bide at no hand, and she was 
 aye wanting it paid back again, and that the Laird he 
 liked as Httle. So, at last, they were clean aff thegither. 
 And then some of the company at Gilsland tells her that 
 the estate was to be seU'd ; and ye wad hae thought she 
 had taen an ill will at Miss Lucy Bertram frae that 
 moment, for mony a time she cried to me, * O Becky, O 
 Becky, if that useless peenging thing o' a lassie there at 
 Ellangowan, that canna keep her ne'er-do-weel father 
 within bounds — if she had been but a lad-bairn, they 
 couldna hae sell'd the auld inheritance for that fool body's 
 debts ; ' — and she would rin on that Avay till I was just 
 wearied and sick to hear her ban the puir lassie, as if she 
 wadna hae been a lad-bairn, and keepit the land, if it had 
 been in her will to change her sect. And ae day at the 
 spaw-well, below the craig at Gilsland, she was seeing a 
 very bonny family o' bairns — they belanged to ane Mac- 
 Crosky — and she broke out — ' Is not it an oddlike thing 
 that ilka waf carle * in the country has a son and heir, 
 and that the house of Ellangowan is without male 
 succession ? ' There was a gipsy wife stood ahint and 
 heard her — a muckle stour fearsome-looking wife she was 
 as ever I set een on. ' Wha is it,' says she, ' that dare 
 say the house of Ellangowan will perish without male 
 SLiccession ? ' My mistress just turned on her ; she was 
 a high-spirited woman, and aye ready wi' an answer to a* 
 body. ' It's me that says it,' says she, ' that may say it 
 with a sad heart.' Wi' that the gipsy wife gripped till 
 her hand : ' I ken you weel eneugh,' says she, ' though 
 
 * Every insigiiificant churl. 
 
122 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 ye kenna me — But as sure as that sun's in heaven, and 
 as sure as that water's rinning to the sea, and as sure aa 
 there's an ee that sees, and an ear that hears us baith,— 
 Harry Bertram, that was thought to perish at Warroch 
 Point, never did die there. He was to have a weary 
 weird o't till his ane-and-twentieth year, that was aye said 
 o' him — but if ye hve and I live, ye'U hear mair o' him 
 this winter before the snaw hes twa days on the Dun of 
 Singleside. I want nane o' your siller,' she said, *to 
 make ye think I am blearing your ee. Fare ye weel till 
 after Martinmas.' And there she left us standing." 
 
 " Was she a very tall woman ? " interrupted Manner- 
 ing. 
 
 " Had she black hair, black eyes, and a cut above the 
 brow ? " added the lawyer. 
 
 " She was the tallest woman I ever saw, and her hair 
 was as black as midnight, unless where it was grey, and 
 she had a scar abune the brow, that ye might hae laid 
 the lith of your finger in. Naebody that's seen her will 
 ever forget her ; and I am morally sure that it was on 
 the ground o' what that gipsy-woman said that my mis- 
 tress made her will, having taen a dislike at the young 
 leddy o' Ellangowan ; and she liked her far waur after 
 she was obliged to send her £20, — for she said Miss 
 Bertram, no content wi' letting the Ellangowan property 
 pass into strange hands, owing to her being a lass and no 
 a lad, was coming, by her poverty, to be a burden and a 
 disgrace to Singleside too. — But I hope my mistress's is 
 a good will for a' that, for it would be hard on me to lose 
 the wee bit legacy — I served for little fee and bountith, 
 weel I wot." 
 
 The counsellor relieved her fears on this head, then 
 inquired after Jenny Gibson, and understood she had 
 
GUT MANNERING. 123 
 
 acc«jpted 'Mr. DInmont's offer; and "I have done sae 
 mysell too, since he was sae discreet as to ask me," said 
 Mrs. Rebecca ; " they are very decent folk the Dinmonts, 
 though my lady didna dow to hear muckle about the 
 friends on that side the house. But she liked the Charlies- 
 hope hams, and the cheeses and the muir-fowl, that they 
 were aye sending, and the lamb's-wool hose and mittens 
 — she Hked them weel eneuch." 
 
 Mr. Pleydell now dismissed Mrs. Rebecca. When she 
 was gone, " I think I know the gipsy-woman," said the 
 lawyer. 
 
 "I was just going to say the same," replied Mannering. 
 
 " And her name," said Pleydell 
 
 " Is Meg Merrihes," answered the Colonel. 
 
 " Are you avised of that ? " said the counsellor, looking 
 ' at his military friend with a comic expression of surprise. 
 
 Mannering answered. " that he had known such a 
 woman when he was at Ellangowan upwards of twenty 
 years before;" and then made his learned friend ac- 
 quainted with all the remarkable particulars of his first 
 visit there. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell listened with great attention, and then 
 repHed, " I congratulated myself upon having made the 
 acquaintance of a profound theologian in your chaplain ; 
 but I really did not expect to find a pupil of Albumazar 
 or Messahala in his patron. I have a notion, however, 
 this gipsy could tell us some more of the matter than she 
 derives from astrology or second-sight — I had her through 
 hands once, and could then make little of her ; but I 
 must write to Mac-Morlan to stir heaven and earth to 
 
 find her out. I will gladly come to shire myself to 
 
 assist at her examination. I am still in the commission 
 of the peace there, though I have ceased to be sheriff. I 
 
124 
 
 T^AYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 never had anything more at heart in my life than tracing 
 that murder, and the fate of the child. I must ^ rite to 
 the sheriff of Roxburghshire too, and to an active justico 
 of peace in Cumberland." 
 
 " I hope when you come to the country you will make 
 "Woodbourne your head-quarters ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; I was afraid you were going to forbid me 
 — But we must go to breaidast now, or I shall be too 
 late." 
 
 On the following day the new friends parted, and the 
 Colonel rejoined his family without any adventure worthy 
 of being detailed in these chapters. 
 
GUT MANNERING. J 25 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Can no rest find me, no private place secure me, 
 But still my miseries like bloodhounds haunt me? 
 Unfortunate youug man, which way now guides thee, 
 Guides thee from death? The country's laid around for thee. 
 
 Women Pleased. 
 
 Omi narrative now recalls us for a moment to the 
 period when young Hazlewood received his wound. 
 That accident had no sooner happened, than the conse- 
 quences to Miss Mannering and to himself rushed upon 
 Brown's mind. From the manner in which the muzzle 
 of the piece was pointed when it went off, he had no 
 great fear that the consequences would be fatal. But an 
 arrest in a strange country, and while he was unprovided 
 with any means of establishing his rank and character, 
 was at least to be avoided. He therefore resolved to 
 escape for the present to the neighbouring coast of Eng- 
 land, and to remain concealed there, if possible, until he 
 should receive letters from his regimental friends, and 
 remittances from his agent ; and then to resume his own 
 character, and offer to young Hazlewood and his friends 
 any explanation or satisfaction they might desire. With 
 this purpose he walked stoutly forward, after leaving the 
 spot where the accident had happened, and reached with- 
 out adventure the village which we have called Portan- 
 ferry (but which the reader will in vain seek for under 
 
I'ZQ WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 that name in the county map.) A large open boat was 
 just about to leave the quay, bound for the Httle sea-port 
 of Allonby, in Cumberland. In this vessel Brown em- 
 barked, and resolved to make that place his temporary 
 abode, until he should receive letters and money from 
 England. 
 
 In the course oi tneir short voyage he entered into 
 some conversation with the steersman, who was also 
 owner of the boat, — a jolly old man, who had occasionally 
 been engaged in the smugghng trade, Hke most fishers 
 on the coast. After talking about objects of less interest, 
 Brown endeavoured to turn the discourse toward the 
 Mannering family. The sailor had heard of the attack 
 upon the house at Woodbourne, but disapproved of the 
 smugglers' proceedings. 
 
 " Hands off is fair play. Zounds ! they'll bring the 
 whole country down upon them. Na, na ! when I was 
 in that way, I played at giff-gaff with the officers : here a 
 cargo taen — vera weel, that was their luck ; — there another 
 carried clean through, that was mine. Na, na ! hawks 
 shouldna pike out hawks' een." 
 
 " And this Colonel Mannering," said Brown. 
 
 " Troth, he's nae wise man neither, to interfere. No 
 that I blame him for saving the gaugers' lives — that was 
 very right ; but it wasna like a gentleman to be fighting 
 about the poor folk's pocks o' tea and brandy kegs ; how- 
 ever, he's a grand man and an officer man, and they do 
 what they like wi' the like o' us." 
 
 " And his daughter," said Brown, with a throbbing 
 heart, " is going to be married into a great family too, as 
 I have heard ? " 
 
 " What, into the Hazlewood's ? " said the pilot. " Na, 
 na, that's but idle clashes — every Sabbath-day, as regu- 
 
GUT MANNERING. 127 
 
 larlj as it came round, did tlie young man ride hame wi* 
 the daughter of the late Ellangowan ; — and mj daughter 
 Peggy's in the service up at Woodbourne, and she says 
 she's sure young Hazlewood thinks nae mair of Miss 
 Manuering than you do." 
 
 Bitterly censuring his own precipitate adoption of a 
 contrary behef, Brown yet heard with delight that the 
 suspicions of Julia's fidelity, upon which he had so rashly 
 acted, were probably void of foundation. How must he 
 in the meantime be suffering in her opinion ? or what 
 could she suppose of conduct, which must haye made 
 him appear to her regardless alike of her peace of mind, 
 and of the interests of their affection ? The old man's 
 connexion with the family at Woodbourne seemed to offer 
 a safe mode of communication, of which he determined 
 to avail himself. 
 
 " Your daughter is a maid-servant at "Woodbourne ? — 
 I knew Miss Mannering in India, and though I am at 
 present in an inferior rank of life, I have great reason to 
 hope she would interest herself in my favour. I had a 
 quarrel unfortunately with her father, who was my com- 
 manding-officer, and I am sure the young lady would 
 endeavour to reconcile him to me. Perhaps your daugh- 
 ter could deliver a letter to her upon the subject, without 
 making mischief between her father and her ? " 
 
 The old man, a friend to smuggling of every kind, 
 readily answered for the letter's being faithfully and se- 
 cretly delivered ; and, accordingly, as soon as they arrived 
 at AUonby, Brown wrote to Miss Mannering, stating the 
 utmost contrition for what had happened through his 
 rashness, and conjuring her to let him have an oppor- 
 tunity of pleading his own cause, and obtaining forgive- 
 ness for his indiscretion. He did not judge it safe tc go 
 
128 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 into any detail concerning the circumstances by which be 
 had been misled, and upon the whole endeavoured to 
 express himself with such ambiguity, that if the letter 
 should fall into wrong hands, it would be difficult either 
 to understand its real purport, or to trace the writer. 
 This letter the old man undertook faithfully to dehver to 
 liis daughter at Woodbom^ne ; and, as his trade would 
 speedily again bring him or his boat to Allonby, he prom- 
 ised farther to take charge of any answer with which the 
 young lady might entrust him. 
 
 And now our persecuted traveller landed at Allonby, 
 and sought for such accommodations as might at once 
 suit his temporary poverty, and his desire of remaining 
 as much unobserved as possible. With this view he as- 
 sumed the name and profession of his friend Dudley, 
 having command enough of the pencil to verify his pre- 
 tended character to his host of Allonby. His baggage 
 he pretended to expect from Wigton ; and keeping him- 
 self as much within doors as possible, awaited the return 
 of the letters which he had sent to his agent, to Delaserre, 
 and to his Lieutenant- Colonel. From the first he re- 
 quested a supply of money ; he conjured Delaserre, if 
 possible, to join him in Scotland ; and from the Lieuten- 
 ant Colonel he required such testimony of his rank and 
 conduct in the regiment, as should place his character as 
 a gentleman and officer beyond the power of question. 
 The inconvenience of being run short in his finances 
 struck him so strongly, that he wrote to Dinmont on that 
 subject, requesting a small temporary loan, having 1.0 
 doubt that, being within sixty or seventy miles of his 
 residence, he should receive a speedy as well as favour- 
 able answer to his request of pecuniary accommodation, 
 which was owing, as he stated, to his having been robbed 
 
GUT MANNERING. 129 
 
 after their parting. And then, with impatience enough, 
 though without any serious apprehension, he waited the 
 answers of these various letters. 
 
 It must be observed, in excuse of his correspondents, 
 that the post was then much more tardy than since Mr. 
 Pahner's ingenious invention has taken place ; and with 
 respect to honest Dinmont in particular, as he rarely re- 
 ceived above one letter a quarter, (unless during the time 
 of his being engaged in a law-suit, when he regularly 
 sent to the post-town,) his correspondence usually re- 
 mained for a month or two sticking in the postmaster's 
 window, among pamphlets, gingerbread, rolls, or ballads, 
 according to the trade which the said postmaster exer- 
 cised. Besides, there was then a custom, not yet wholly 
 obsolete, of causing a letter, from one town to another, 
 perhaps within the distance of thirty miles, perform a 
 circuit of two hundred miles before delivery ; which had 
 the combined advantage of airing the epistle thoroughly, 
 of adding some pence to the revenue of the post-office, 
 and of exercising the patience of the correspondents. 
 Owing to these circumstances. Brown remained several 
 days in Allonby without any answers whatever ; and his 
 stock of money, though husbanded with the utmost econ- 
 omy, began to wear very low, when he received, by the 
 hands of a young fisherman, the following letter : — 
 
 " You have acted with the most cruel indiscretion ; you 
 have shown how little I can trust to your declarations 
 that my peace and happiness are dear to you ; and your 
 rashness has nearly occasioned the death of a young man 
 of the highest worth and honour. Must I &ay more ? — 
 must I add, that I have been myself very ill in conse- 
 quence of your violence and its effects ? And, alas I 
 
130 WAYEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 need I sav still farther, that I have thought anxiously 
 upon them as they are likely to aifect you, although you 
 have given me such slight cause to do so ? The C. is 
 gone from home for several days ; Mr. H. is almost qui^B 
 recovered ; and I have reason to think that the blame is laid 
 in a quarter different fi'om that where it is deserved. Yet 
 do not think of venturmg here. Our fate has been crossed 
 by accidents of a natui-e too violent and terrible to permit 
 me to think of renewing a correspondence which has so 
 often threatened the most dreadful catastrophe. Fare- 
 well, therefore, and believe that no one can wish your 
 happiness more sincerely than " J. M." 
 
 This letter contained that species of advice which is 
 frequently given for the precise piu-pose that it may lead 
 to a directly opposite conduct from that which it recom- 
 mends. At least so thought Bro^\Ti, who immediately 
 asked the young fisherman if he came from PortanfeiTy. 
 
 " Ay," said the lad ; " I am auld Willie Johnstone's 
 son, and I got that letter frae my sister Peggy, that's 
 laundry-maid at TVoodboume." 
 
 " My good friend, when do you sail ? " 
 
 " With the tide this evening." 
 
 " m return with you ; — ^but as I do not desire to go to 
 Portanferry, I wish you could put me on shore somewhere 
 on the coast." 
 
 " We can easily do that," said the lad. 
 
 Although the price of provisions, &c., was then very 
 moderate, the discharging his lodgings, and the expense 
 of his hving, together with that of a change of dress, 
 firhich safety, as well as a proper regard to his external 
 appearance, rendered necessary, brought Brown's purse 
 to a very low ebb. He left directions at the post-office 
 
GUY MANNERING. 131 
 
 that his letters should be forwarded to Kippletringan, 
 wliither he resolved to proceed, and reclaim the treasure 
 which he had deposited in the hands of Mrs. Mac- 
 Candlish. He also felt it would be his duty to assume 
 his proper character as soon as he should receive the 
 necessary evidence for supporting it, and, as an officer 
 in the kingV service, give and receive every explanation 
 which might be necessary with young Hazlewood. " If 
 he is not very wrong-headed indeed," he thought, " he 
 must allow the manner in which I acted to have been 
 the necessary consequence of his own overbearing con- 
 duct." 
 
 And now we must suppose him once more embarked 
 on the Solway Frith. The wind was adverse, attended 
 by some rain, and they struggled against it without much 
 assistance from the tide. The boat was heavily laden 
 with goods, (part of which were probably contraband,) 
 and laboured deep in the sea. Brown, who had been 
 bred a sailor, and was indeed skilled in most athletic 
 exercises, gave his powerful and effectual assistance in 
 rowing, or occasionally in steering the boat, and his advice 
 in the management, which became the more delicate as 
 the wind increased, and, being opposed to the very rapid 
 tides of that coast, made the voyage perilous. At length, 
 after spending the whole night upon the frith, they were 
 at morning within sight of a beautiful bay upon the Scot- 
 tish c»ast. The weather was now more mild. The snow, 
 which had been for some time waning, had given way 
 entirely under the fresh gale of the preceding night. 
 The more distant hills, indeed, retained their snowy 
 mantle, but all the open country was cleared, unless where 
 a few white patches indicated that it had been drifted to 
 an uncommon depth. Even under its wintry appearance. 
 
132 WAVERLET XOYELS. 
 
 the shore was higUy interesting. The line of sea-coasl^ 
 with all its varied curves, indentures, and embayments- 
 swept avv^aj from the sight on either hand, in that varied, 
 intricate, jet graceful and easy line, which the eye loves 
 so well to pursue. And it was no less relieved and varied 
 in elevation than in outline, by the different forms of the 
 shore ; the beach in some places being edged by steep 
 rocks, and in others rising smoothly from the sands in 
 easy and swelling slopes. — Buildings of different kinds 
 caught and reflected the wintry sunbeams of a December 
 morning, and the woods, though now leafless, gave relief 
 and variety to the landscape. Brown felt that lively and 
 awakening interest which taste and sensibility always 
 derive from the beauties of nature, when opening sud- 
 denly to the eye, after the dulness and gloom of a night 
 voyage. Perhaps — for who can presume to analyze that 
 inexpUcable feeling which binds the person born in a 
 mountainous country to his native hiUs — perhaps some 
 early associations, retaming their effect long after the 
 cause was forgotten, mingled in the feelings of pleasure 
 with which he regarded the scene before him. 
 
 " And what," said Brown to the boatman, " is the name 
 of that fine cape, that stretches into the sea with its sloping 
 banks and hillocks of wood, and forms the right side of 
 the bay?" 
 
 " Warroch Point," answered the lad. 
 
 " And that old castle, my friend, with the modem house 
 situated just beneath it ? It seems at this distance a very 
 large building." 
 
 " That's the Auld Place, sir ; and that's the New Placo 
 below it. We'll land you there, if you like." 
 
 " I should like it of all things. I must visit that ruia 
 before I continue my journey.'* 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 133 
 
 " Ay, it'b a queer auld bit," said the fisherman ; " and 
 that highest tower is a gude land-mark as far as Ramsay 
 in Man, and the Point of Ayr ; — there was muckle fight- 
 ing about the place langsyne." 
 
 Brown would have inquired into farther particulars, 
 but a fisherman is seldom an antiquary. His boatman's 
 local knowledge was summed up in the information 
 already given, '* that it was a grand land-mark, and that 
 there had been muckle fighting about the bit langsyne." 
 
 " I shall learn more of it," said Brown to himself, 
 *' when I get ashore." 
 
 The boat continued its course close under the point 
 upon which the castle was situated, which frowned from 
 the summit of its rocky site upon the still agitated waves 
 of the bay beneath. "I believe," said the steersman, 
 "ye'U get ashore here as dry as ony gate. There's a 
 place where their berlins and galleys, as they ca'd them, 
 used to lie in langsyne, but it's no used now, because it's 
 ill carrying gudes up the narrow stairs, or ower the rocks. 
 Whiles of a moonlight night I have landed articles there, 
 though." 
 
 While he thus spoke, they pulled round a point of rock, 
 and found a very small harbour, partly formed by nature, 
 partly by the indefatigable labour of the ancient inhabi- 
 tants of the castle, who, as the fisherman observed, had 
 found it essential for the protection of their boats and 
 email craft, though it could not receive vessels of any 
 burden. The two points of rock which formed the access 
 approached each other so nearly, that only one boat could 
 enter at a time. On each side were still remaining two 
 immense iron rings, deeply morticed into the solid rock. 
 Through these, according to tradition, there was nightly 
 drawn a huge chain, secured by an immense padlock, for 
 
134 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 the protection of the haven, and the armada which it 
 contained. A ledge of rock had, bj the assistance of the 
 chisel and pickaxe, been formed into a sort of quay 
 The rock was of extremely hard consistence, and the 
 task so difficult, that, according to the fisherman, a 
 labourer who wrought at the work might in the evening 
 have carried home in his bonnet all the shivers which he 
 Dad struck from the mass in the course of the day. This 
 little quay communicated with a rude staircase, already 
 yepeatedly mentioned, which descended from the old 
 tastle. There was also a communication between the 
 beach and the quay, by scrambling over the rocks. 
 
 "Ye had better land here," said the lad, "for the surf's 
 running high at the Shellicoat-stane, and there will no be 
 a dry thread amang us or we get the cargo out. — Na ! 
 na ! " (in answer to an offer of money,) " ye have wrought 
 for your passage, and wrought far better than ony o' us. 
 Gude-day to ye : I wuss ye weel." 
 
 So saying, he pushed off in order to land his cargo on 
 the opposite side of the bay ; and Brown, with a small 
 bundle in his hand, containing the trifling stock of neces- 
 saries which he had been obliged to purchase at Allonby, 
 was left on the rocks beneath the ruin. 
 
 And thus, unconscious as the most absolute stranger, 
 and in circumstances which, if not destitute, were for the 
 present highly embarrassing ; without the countenance of 
 a friend within the circle of several hundred miles; 
 accused of a heavy crime, and, what was as bad as all 
 the rest, being nearly penniless, did the harassed wan- 
 derer, for the first time after the interval of so many 
 years, approach the remains of the castle where his an- 
 cestors had exercised all but regal dominion. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 135 
 
 CHAPTER XLL 
 
 Yes, ye moss-green walls, 
 
 Ye towers defenceless, I revisit ye 
 Shame-stricken ! Where are all your trophies now? 
 Your thronged courts, the revelry, the tumult. 
 That spoke the grandevir of my house, the homage 
 Of neighbouring Barons? 
 
 Mysterious Mother. 
 
 Entering the castle of EUangowan by a postern door- 
 way, whicla showed symptoms of having been once secured 
 with the most jealous care, Brown (whom, since he has 
 set foot upon the property of his fathers, we shall here- 
 after call by his father's name of Bertram) wandered 
 from one ruined apartment to another, surprised at the 
 massive strength of some parts of the building, the rude 
 and impressive magnificence of others, and the great 
 extent of the whole. In two of these rooms, close beside 
 each other, he saw signs of recent habitation. In one 
 small apartment were empty bottles, half-gnawed bones, 
 and dried fragments of bread. In the vault which ad- 
 joined, and which was defended by a strong door, then 
 left open, he observed a considerable quantity of straw ; 
 and in both were the rehcs of recent fires. How little 
 was it possible for Bertram to conceive, that such trivial 
 circumstances were closely connected with incidents 
 affecting his prosperity, his honour, perhaps his life ! 
 
 After satisfying his curiosity by a hasty glance througli 
 
136 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the interior of the castle,. Bertram now advanced through 
 the great gateway which opened to the land, and paused 
 to look upon the noble landscape which it commanded. 
 Having in vain endeavoured to guess the position of 
 Woodbourne, and having nearly ascertained that of 
 Kippletringan, he turned to take a parting look at the 
 stately ruins which he had just traversed. He admired 
 the massive and picturesque effect of the huge round 
 towers, which, flanking the gateway, gave a double por- 
 tion of depth and majesty to the high yet gloomy arch 
 under which it opened. The carved stone escutcheon of 
 the ancient family, bearing for their arms three wolves' 
 heads, was hung diagonally beneath the helmet and crest, 
 the latter being a wolf couchant pierced with an arrow. 
 On either side stood as supporters, in full human size, or 
 larger, a salvage man proper, to use the language of 
 heraldry, wreathed and cinctured, and holding in his hand 
 an oak-tree eradicated, that is, torn up by the roots. 
 
 " And the powerful barons who owned this blazonry," 
 thought Bertram, pursuing the usual train of ideas which 
 flows upon the mind at such scenes, — " do their posterity 
 continue to possess the lands which they had laboured to 
 fortify so strongly ? or are they wanderers, ignorant per- 
 haps even of the fame or power of their forefathers, 
 while their hereditary possessions are held by a race of 
 strangers ? Why is it," he thought, continuing to follow 
 out the succession of ideas which the scene prompted, 
 — " why is it that some scenes awaken thoughts which 
 belong as it were to di-eams of early and shadowy recol- 
 lection, such as my old Brahmin Moonshie would have 
 ascribed to a state of previous existence? Is it the 
 visions of our sleep that float confusedly in our memory, 
 and are recalled by the appearance of such real objects ai 
 
GUY MANNERIKG. 137 
 
 in any respect correspond to the phantoms they presented 
 to our hnagination ? How often do we find ourselves in 
 society which we have never before met, and yet feel im- 
 pressed with a mysterious and ill-defined consciousness, 
 that neither the scene, the speakers, nor the subject, are 
 entirely new ; nay, feel as if we could anticipate that part 
 of the conversation which has not yet taken place ! It is 
 even so with me while I gaze upon that ruin; — nor can I 
 divest myself of the idea, that these massive towers, and 
 that dark gateway, retiring through its deep-vaulted and 
 ribbed arches, and dimly lighted by the court-yard 
 beyond, are not entirely strange to me. Can it be, that 
 they have been familiar to me in infancy, and that I am 
 to seek in their vicinity those friends of whom my child- 
 hood has still a tender though faint remembrance, and 
 whom I early exchanged for such severe taskmasters ? 
 Yet Brown, who I think would not have deceived me, 
 always told me I was brought off from the eastern coast, 
 after a skirmish in which my father was killed ; — and I 
 do remember enough of a horrid scene of violence to 
 strengthen his account." 
 
 It happened that the spot upon which young Bertram 
 chanced to station himself for the better viewing the 
 castle, was nearly the same on which his father had died. 
 It was marked by a large old oak-tree, the only one on 
 the esplanade, and which, having been used for executions 
 by the barons of EUangowan, was called the Justice-Tree. 
 It chanced, and the coincidence was remarkable, that 
 Glossin was this morning engaged with a person whom 
 he was in the habit of consulting in such matters, con- 
 cerning some projected repairs, and a large addition to 
 the house of EUangowan, — and that, having no great 
 pleasure in remains so intimately connected with the 
 
138 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 grandeui* of the former inhabitants, he had resolved to 
 use the stones of the ruinous castle in his new edifice. 
 Accordingly he came up the bank, followed by the land- 
 surveyor mentioned on a former occasion, who was also 
 in the habit of acting as a sort of architect in case of 
 necessity. In drawing the plans, &c., Glossin was in the 
 custom of relying upon his own skill. Bertram's back 
 was towai'ds them as they came up the ascent, and he 
 was quite shrouded by the branches of the large tree, so 
 that Glossin was not aware of the presence of the stranger 
 till he was close upon him. 
 
 " Yes, sir, as I have often said before to you, the Old 
 Place is a perfect quarry of hewn stone, and it would be 
 better for the estate if it were all down, since it is only a 
 den for smuo^orlers." 
 
 At this instant Bertram turned short round upon Glos- 
 sin at the distance of two yards only, and said, " Would 
 you destroy this fine old castle, sir ? " 
 
 His face, person, and voice, were so exactly those of 
 his father in his best days, that Glossin, hearing his ex- 
 clamation, and seeing such a sudden apparition in the 
 shape of his patron, and on nearly the very spot where he 
 had expired, almost thought the grave had given up its 
 dead ! He staggered back two or three paces, as if he 
 had received a sudden and deadly wound. He instantly 
 recovered, however, his presence of mind, stimulated by 
 the thrilling reflection that it was no inhabitant of the 
 other world which stood before him, but an injured man, 
 whom the sHghtest want of dexterity on his part might 
 lead to acquaintance with his rights, and the means of 
 asserting them to his utter destruction. Yet his ideas 
 were so much confused by the shock he had received, that 
 bis first question partook of the alarm. 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 139 
 
 "In the name of God, how came you here?" said 
 Glossin. 
 
 " How came I here ? " repeated Bertram, surprised at 
 the solemnity of the address. " I landed a quarter of an 
 hour since in the little harbour beneath the castle, and 
 was employing a moment's leisure in viewing these fine 
 ruins. I trust there is no intrusion ? " 
 
 " Intrusion, sir ? No, sir," said Glossin, in some 
 degree recovering his breath, and then whispered a 
 few words into his companion's ear, who immediately 
 left him and descended towards the house. " Intrusion, 
 sir? No, sir, you or any gentleman are welcome to 
 satisfy your curiosity." 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said Bertram. " They call this the 
 Old Place, I am informed ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; in distinction to the New Place, my house 
 there, below." 
 
 Glossin, it must be remarked, was, during the fol- 
 lowing dialogue, on the one hand eager to learn what 
 local recollections young Bertram had retained of the 
 scenes of his infancy, and, on the other, compelled to be 
 extremely cautious in his replies, lest he should awaken 
 or assist, by some name, phrase, or anecdote, the slum- 
 bering train of association. He suffered, indeed, during 
 the whole scene, the agonies which he so richly def erved ; 
 yet his pride and interest, hke the fortitude of a North 
 American Indian, manned him to sustain the tortures 
 inflicted at once by the contending stings of a guilty con- 
 science, of hatred, of fear, and of suspicion. 
 
 " I wish to ask the name, sir," said Bertram, " of the 
 family to whom this stately ruin belongs ? " 
 
 " It is my property, sir — my name is Glossin." 
 
 " Glossin ? — Glossin ? " repeated Bertram, as if the 
 
140 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 answer were somewhat different from what lie expected. 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Glossin ; I am apt to be very- 
 absent. May I ask if the castle has been long in your 
 family ? " 
 
 " It was built, I believe, long ago, by a family called 
 Mac-Dingawaie," answered Glossin; suppressing, for 
 obvious reasons, the more familiar sound of Bertram, 
 which might have awakened the recollections which he 
 was anxious to lull to rest, and slurring with an evasive 
 answer the question concerning the endurance of his own 
 possession. 
 
 " And how do you read the half-defaced motto, sir," 
 said Bertram, " which is upon that scroll above the en- 
 tablature with the arms ? " 
 
 " I — I — I really do not exactly know," replied Glossin. 
 
 " I should be apt to make it out. Our Right makes our 
 Mightr 
 
 " I believe it is something of that kind," said Glossin. 
 
 " May I ask, sir," said the stranger, " if it is your 
 family motto ? " 
 
 " N — n — no — no — not ours. That is, I believe, the 
 motto of the former people — mine is — mine is — in fact I 
 have had some correspondence with Mr. Gumming of 
 the Lyon Qjfice in Edinburgh about mine. He writes 
 me, the Glossins anciently bore for a motto, ' He who 
 takes it, makes it.' " 
 
 "If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were 
 miae," said Bertram, "I would assume the old motto, 
 which seems to me the better of the two." 
 
 Glossin, whose tongue by this time clove to the roof 
 of his mouth, only answered by a nod. 
 
 " It is odd enough," said Bertram, fixing his eye upon 
 the arms and gateway, and parti}- addressing Glossin, 
 
GTJT MANNERING. 141 
 
 partly as it were tliinking aloud — " It is odd the trick** 
 which our memory plays us. The remnants of an old 
 prophecy, or song, or rhyme, of some kind or other, 
 return to my recollection on hearing that motto — Stay— ^ 
 it is a strange jingle of sounds : 
 
 The dark shall be light, 
 
 And the wrong made right, 
 
 When Bertram's right and Bertram's might 
 
 Shall meet on 
 
 I cannot remember the last line — on some particulai 
 height — height is the rhyme, I am sure; but I cannot 
 hit upon the preceding word." 
 
 " Confound your memory," muttered Glossin, — " you 
 remember by far too much of it ! " 
 
 " There are other rhymes connected with these early 
 recollections," continued the young man : — " Pray, sir, is 
 there any song current in this part of the world respect- 
 ing a daughter of the Eling of the Isle of Man eloping 
 with a Scottish knight ? " 
 
 " I am the worst person in the world to consult upon 
 legendary antiquities," answered Glossin. 
 
 ^' I could sing such a ballad," said Bertram, " from one 
 end to another, when I was a boy. — You must know I 
 left Scotland, which is my native country, very young, 
 and those who brought me up discouraged all my attempts 
 to preserve recollection of my native land, — on account, I 
 beheve, of a boyish wish which I had to escape from 
 their charge." 
 
 " Very natural," said Glossin, but speaking as if his 
 utmost efforts were unable to unseal his lips beyond the 
 width of a quarter of an inch, so that his whole utterance 
 was a kind of compressed muttering, very different from 
 the round, bold, bullying voice with which he usually 
 
142 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Bpoke. Indeed his appearance and demeanour during 
 all this conversation seemed to diminish even his strength 
 and stature ; so that he appeared to wither into the 
 shadow of himself, now advancing one foot, now the 
 other, now stooping and wrigghng his shoulders, now 
 fumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat, now clasping 
 his hands together, — ^in short, he was the picture of a 
 mean-spirited shuffling rascal in the very agonies of 
 detection. To these appearances Bertram was totally 
 inattentive, being dragged on as it were by the current 
 of his own associations. Indeed, although he addressed 
 Glossin, he was not so much thinking of him, as arguing 
 upon the embarrassing state of his own feelings and 
 recollection. " Yes," he said, " I preserved my language 
 among the sailors, most of whom spoke Enghsh, and when 
 I could get into a corner by myself, I used to sing all 
 that song over from beginning to end. — I have forgot it 
 all now — ^but I remember the tune well, though I cannot 
 guess what should at present so strongly recall it to my 
 memoiy." 
 
 He took his flageolet from his pocket, and played a 
 simple melody. Apparently the tune awoke the corre- 
 sponding associations of a damsel, who, close beside a fine 
 spring about halfway down the descent, and which had 
 once suppHed the castle with water, was engaged in 
 blcachinr linen. She immediately took up the song : 
 
 " Are these the Links of Forth, she said, 
 Or are they the crooks of Dee, 
 Or the bonny woods of Warroch-Head 
 That I so fain would see ? " 
 
 " By heaven," said Bertram, " it is the very ballad ! I 
 must learn these words from the girl." 
 
 " Confusion ! " thought Glossin ; " if I cannot put a 
 
GUY MANNERING. 143 
 
 Btop to tliis, all will be out. Oli the devil take all ballads, 
 and ballad-makers, and ballad-singers ! and that d — d 
 
 jade too, to set up her pipe ! You will have time 
 
 enough for this on some other occasion," he said aloud ; 
 " at present " — (for now he saw his emissary with two or 
 three men coming up the bank) — " at present we must 
 have some more serious conversation together." 
 
 " How do you mean, sir ? " said Bertram, turning 
 short upon him, and not liking the tone which he made 
 use of. 
 
 " Why, sir, as to that — I believe your name is Brown ? '* 
 said Glossin. 
 
 " And what of that, sir ? " 
 
 Glossin looked over his shoulder to see how near his 
 party had approached ; they were coming fast on. " Van- 
 beest Brown ? if I mistake not." 
 
 " And what of that, sir ? " said Bertram, with increas- 
 ing astonishment and displeasure. 
 
 " Why, in that case," said Glossin, observing his friends 
 had now got upon the level space close beside them — " in 
 that case you are my prisoner in the king's name ! " At 
 the same time he stretched his hand towards Bertram's 
 collar, while two of the men who had come up seized 
 upon his arms ; he shook himself, however, free of their 
 grasp by a violent effort, in which he pitched the most 
 pertinacious down the bank, and, drawing his cutlass, 
 stood on the defensive, while those who had felt his 
 strength recoiled from his presence, and gazed at a safe 
 distance. " Observe," he called out at the same time, 
 " that I have no purpose to resist legal authority ; satisfy 
 me that you have a magistrate's warrant, and are author- 
 ized to make this arrest, and I will obey it quietly ; but 
 'et no man who loves his life venture to approach me, till 
 
144 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 I am satisfied for what crime, and by whose authority, I 
 am apprehended." 
 
 Glossin then caused one of the officers to show a war- 
 rant for the apprehension of Vanbeest Brown, accused of 
 the crime of wilfully and mahciously shooting at Charles 
 Hazlewood, younger of Hazlewood, with an intent to kill, 
 and also of other crimes and misdemeanours, and which 
 appointed him, having been so apprehended, to be brought 
 before the next magistrate for examination. The war- 
 rant being formal, and the fact such as he could not denyj 
 Bertram threw down his weapon, and submitted himself 
 to the officers, who, flying on him with eagerness corre- 
 sponding to their former pusillanimity, were about to load 
 him with irons, alleging the strength and activity which 
 he had displayed, as a justification of this severity. But 
 Glossin was ashamed or afraid to permit this unnecessary 
 insult, and directed the prisoner to be treated with all the 
 decency, and even respect, that was consistent with 
 safety. Afraid, however, to introduce him into his own 
 house, where still further subjects of recollection might 
 have been suggested, and anxious at the same time to 
 cover his own proceedings by the sanction of another's 
 authority, he ordered his carnage (for he had lately set 
 up a carriage) to be got ready, and in the meantime 
 directed refreshments to be given to the prisoner and the 
 officers, who were consigned to one of the rooms in the 
 old castle, until the means of conveyance for examination 
 before a magistrate should be provided. 
 
GUT MANKEUrSTG. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XLH. 
 
 Bring in the evidence 
 
 ThoTi robed man of justice, take thy place, 
 And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity, 
 Bench by his side — ^you are of the commission, 
 Sit you too. 
 
 KrsG Leab. 
 
 While the carriage was getting readj, Glossi i had a 
 letter to compose, about which he wasted no smr Jl time. 
 It was to his neighbour, as he was fond of calling him, 
 Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood, the head of an 
 ancient and powerful interest in the county, which had, 
 in the decadence of the Ellangowan family, gradually 
 succeeded to much of their authority and influence. The 
 present representative of the family was an elderly man, 
 dotingly fond of his own family, which was limited to an 
 only son and daughter, and stoically indifferent to the fate 
 of all mankind besides. For the rest, he was honourable 
 in his general dealings, because he was afraid to suffer 
 the censure of the world, and just from a better motive. 
 He was presumptuously over-conceited on the score of 
 family pride and importance — a feeling considerably en- 
 hanced by his late succession to the title of a Nova Scotia 
 Baronet ; and he hated the memory of the Ellangowan 
 family, though now a memory only, because a certain 
 baron of that house was traditionally reported to have 
 caused the foimder of the Hazlewood family hold his 
 
 VOL. IV. 10 
 
146 WAVEHLET NOVELS. 
 
 Stirrup until lie mounted into his saddle. la his general 
 deportment he was pompous and important, affecting a 
 species of florid elocution which often became ridiculous 
 fi'om his misarranging the triads and quaternions with 
 which he loaded his sentences. 
 
 To this personage Glossin was now to write in such a 
 conciliatory style as might be most acceptable to his 
 vanity and family pride, and the following was the form 
 of his note : — 
 
 " ]Mr. Gilbert Glossin " (he longed to add of Ellan- 
 gowan, but prudence prevailed, and he suppressed that 
 territorial designation) — " Mr. Gilbert Glossin hai5 the 
 honour to offer his most respectful compliments to Sir 
 Robert Hazlewood, and to inform him, that he has this 
 morning been fortunate enough to secure the person who 
 wounded Mr. C. Hazlewood. As Sir Robert Hazlewood 
 may probably choose to conduct the examination of this 
 criminal himself, Mr. G. Glossin will cause the man to be 
 carried to the inn at Kippletringan, or to Hazlewood- 
 House, as Sir Robert Hazlewood may be pleased to 
 direct : And, with Sir Robert Hazlewood's permission, 
 Mr. G. Glossin will attend him at either of these places 
 with the proofs and declarations which he has been so 
 fortunate as to collect respecting this atrocious business." 
 Addressed, 
 " Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood, Bart. 
 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " Hazlewood House, &c. &c. 
 
 This note - he despatched by a servant on horseback, 
 and having given the man some time to get a-head, and 
 desired him to ride fast, he ordered two cvffice 's of justice 
 
GUY MANNERING. 147 
 
 to get into the carriage with Bertram ; and he himself, 
 mounting his horse, accompanied them at a slow pace to 
 the point where the roads to Kippletringan and Hazle- 
 wood House separated, and there awaited the return of 
 liis messenger, in order that his farther route might be 
 determined by the answer he should receive from the 
 Baronet. In about half ni hour his servant returned 
 with the following answer, handsomely folded and sealed 
 with the Hazlewood arms, having the Nova Scotia badge 
 depending from the shield : — 
 
 " Sir Eobert Hazlewood of Hazlewood returns Mr. G. 
 Glossin's compliments, and thanks him for the trouble he 
 has taken in a matter affecting the safety of Sir Robert's 
 family. Sir R. H. requests ]Mr. G. G. will have the 
 goodness to bring the prisoner to Hazlewood House for 
 examination, with the other proofs or declarations which 
 he mentions. And after the business is over, in case Mr, 
 G. G. is not otherwise engaged. Sir R. and Lady Hazle- 
 wood request his company to dinner." 
 Addressed, 
 
 " Mr. Gilbert Glossin, &c. 
 
 *' Hazlewood-House, ) 
 Tuesday." ) 
 
 " Soh ! " thought ]VIr. Glossin, " here is one finger in 
 at least, and that I will make the means of introducing my 
 whole hand. But I must first get clear of this wretched 
 young fellow. — I think I can manage Sir Robert. He is 
 dull and pompous, and will be ahke disposed to listen to 
 my suggestions upon the law of the case, and to assume 
 the credit of acting upon them as his own proper motion. 
 So I shall have the advantage of being the real magis- 
 trate, without the odium of responsibihty." 
 
14S "WAVERLEY KOTELS. 
 
 As he cherished these hopes and expectations, the car- 
 riage approached Hazlewood House through a noble 
 avenue of old oaks, which shrouded the ancient abbey- 
 resembling building so called. It was a large edifice built 
 at different periods, part having actually been a priory, 
 upon the suppression of which, in the time of Queen 
 Mary, the first of the family had obtained a gift of the 
 house and surrounding lands from the crown. It was 
 pleasantly situated in a large deer park, on the banks of 
 the river we have before mentioned. The scenery around 
 was of a dark, solemn, and somewhat melancholy cast, 
 according well with the architecture of the house. Every 
 thing appeared to be kept in the highest possible order^ 
 and announced the opulence and rank of the proprietor. 
 
 As Mr. Glossin's carriage stopped at the door of the 
 hall. Sir Robert reconnoitred the new vehicle from the 
 windows. According to his aristocratic feehngs, there 
 was a degree of presumption in this novus homo, this BIr. 
 
 Gilbert Glossin, late writer in •, presuming to set 
 
 up such an accommodation at all ; but his wrath was 
 mitigated when he observed that the mantle upon the 
 panels only bore a plain cipher of G. G. This apparent 
 modesty was indeed solely owing to the delay of Mr. 
 Gumming of the Lyon Otfice, who, being at that time 
 engaged in discovering and matriculating the arms of two 
 commissaries from North America, three English-Irish 
 peers, and two great Jamaica traders, had been more slow 
 than usual in finding an escutcheon for the new Laird of 
 Ellangowan. But his delay told to the advantage of 
 Glossin in the opinion of the proud Baronet. 
 
 Wliile the officers of justice detained their prisoner in 
 a sort of steward's room, Mr. Glossin was ushered into 
 what was called the great oak-parlour, a long rooi% 
 
GUT MANNERING. 14^ 
 
 pianelled witli <\'ell- varnished wainscot, and adoraed with 
 the grim portraits of Sir Robert Hazlewood's ancestry. 
 The visitor, who had no internal consciousness of worth 
 to balance that of meanness of birth, felt his inferiority, 
 and by the depth of his bow and the obsequiousness of 
 his demeanour, showed that the Laird of EUangowan was 
 sunk for the time in the old and submissive habits of the 
 quondam retainer of the law. He would have persuaded 
 himself, indeed, that he was only humouring the pride of 
 the old Baronet, for the purpose of turning it to his own 
 advantage ; — but his feehngs were of a mingled nature, 
 and he felt the influence of those very prejudices which 
 he pretended to flatter. 
 
 The Baronet received his visitor with that condescend- 
 ing parade which was meant at once to assert his own 
 vast suxjeriority, and to show the generosity and courtesy 
 v/ith which he could waive it, and descend to the level of 
 ordinary conversation with ordinary men. He thanked 
 Glossin for his attention to a matter in which " young 
 Hazlewood " was so intimately concerned, and, pointing 
 to his family pictures, observed, with a gracious smile, 
 " Indeed these venerable gentlemen, Mr. Glossin, are as 
 much obliged as I am in this case, for the labour, pains, 
 care, and trouble which you have taken in their behalf; 
 and I have no doubt, were they capable of expressing 
 themselves, would join me, sir, in thanking you for the 
 favour you have conferred upon the house of Hazlewood, 
 by taking care, and trouble, sir, and interest, in behalf of 
 the young gentleman who is to continue their name and 
 family." 
 
 Thrice bowed Glossin, and each time more profoundly 
 than before ; once in honour of the kniglit who stood up- 
 right bef')re him, once in respect to the quiet personages 
 
150 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 who patiently hung upon the wainscot, and a third time In 
 deference to the young gentleman who was to carry on the 
 name and family. Roturier as he was, Sir Robert was 
 gratified by the homage which he rendered, and pro- 
 ceeded, in a tone of gracious familiarity — " And now, Mr. 
 Glossin, my exceeding good friend, you must allow me 
 to avail myself of your knowledge of law in our proceed- 
 ings in this matter. I am not much in the habit of acting 
 as a justice of the peace ; it suits better with other gen- 
 tlemen, whose domestic and family affairs require less 
 constant superintendence, attention, and management, 
 than mine." 
 
 Of course, whatever small assistance Mr. Glossin could 
 render was entirely at Sir Robert Hazlewood's service ; 
 but, as Sir Robert Hazlewood's name stood high in the 
 hst of the faculty, the said Mr. Glossin could not presume 
 to hope it could be either necessary or useful. 
 
 " Why, my good sir, you will understand me only to 
 mean, that I am something deficient in the practical 
 knowledge of the ordinary details of justice-business. I 
 was indeed educated to the bar, and might boast perhaps 
 at one time, that I had made some progress in the spec- 
 ulative, and abstract, and abstruse doctrines of our 
 municipal code ; but there is in the present day so little 
 opportunity of a man of family and fortune rising to that 
 eminence at the bar, which is attained by adventurers 
 who are as willing to plead for John-a-Nokes as for the 
 first noble of the land, that I was really early disgusted 
 with practice. The first case, indeed, which was laid on 
 my table, quite sickened me ; it respected a bargain, sir, 
 of tallow, between a butcher and a candlemaker ; and I 
 found it was expected that I should grease my mouth, 
 not only with their vulgar names, but with all the tech- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 151 
 
 nical terms, and phrases, and peculiar language, of their 
 dirty arts. Upon mj honour, mj good sir, I have never 
 been able to bear the smell of a tallow-candle since." 
 
 Pitying, as seemed to be expected, the mean use to 
 which the Baronet's faculties had been degraded on this 
 melancholy occasion, Mr. Glossin offered to officiate as 
 clerk or assessor, or in any way in which he could be 
 most useful. " And with a view to possessing you of the 
 whole business, and in the first place, there will, I believe, 
 be no difficulty in proving the main fact, that this was the 
 person who fired the unhappy piece. Should he deny it, 
 it can be proved by Mr. Hazlewood, I presume ? " 
 
 " Young Hazlewood is not at home to-day, Mr. Glos- 
 sin." 
 
 " But we can have the oath of the servant who at- 
 tended him," said the ready Mr. Glossin ; " indeed I 
 hardly think the fact will be disputed. I am more appre- 
 hensive, that, from the too favourable and indulgent 
 manner in which I have understood that Mr. Hazlewood 
 has been pleased to represent the business, the assault 
 may be considered as accidental, and the injury as unin- 
 tentional, so that the fellow may be immediately set at 
 liberty, to do more. mischief." 
 
 " I have not the honour to know the gentleman who 
 now holds the office of king's advocate," replied Sir 
 Robert, gravely ; " but I presume, sir — nay, I am confi- 
 dent, that he will consider the mere fact of having 
 wounded young Hazlewood of Hazlewood, even by inad- 
 vertency, to take the matter in its mildest and gentlest, and 
 in its most favourable and improbable light, as a crime 
 which will be too easily atoned by imprisonment, and as 
 more deserving of deportation." 
 
 " Indeed, Sir Robert," said his assenting brother in 
 
152 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 justice, " I am entirely of jour opinion ; "but, I don't 
 know how it is, I liave observed the Edinburgh gentlemen 
 of the bar, and even the officers of the crown, pique 
 themselves upon an indifferent administration of justice, 
 without respect to rank and family ; and I should 
 fear" 
 
 " How, sir, without respect to rank and family ? Will 
 you tell me that doctrine can be held by men of birth and 
 legal education ? No, sir, if a trifle stolen in the street 
 is termed mere pickery, but is elevated into sacrilege if 
 the crime be committed in a church, so, according to the 
 just gradations of society, the guilt of an injury is en- 
 hanced by the rank of the person to whom it is offered, 
 done, or perpetrated, sir." 
 
 Glossin bowed low to this declaration ex cathedra, but 
 observed, that in case of the very worst, and of such 
 unnatural doctrines being actually held as he had already 
 hinted, " the law had another hold on ]Mr. Vanbeest 
 Brown." 
 
 '' Vanbeest Brown ! is that the fellow's name ? Good 
 God ! that young Hazlewood of Hazlewood should have 
 had his life endangered, the clavicle of his right shoulder 
 considerably lacerated and dislodged, several large drops 
 or slugs deposited in the acromion process, as the account 
 of the family surgeon expressly bears, — and all by an 
 obscure wretch named Vanbeest Brown ! " 
 
 " Why, really, Sir Robert, it is a tiling which one can 
 hardly bear to think of; but, begging ten thousand par- 
 dons for resuming what I was about to say, a person of 
 the same name is, as appears from these papers," (pro^ 
 ducing Dirk Hatteraick's pocket-book,) " mate to the 
 smuggling vessel who offered such violence at Wood- 
 bourne, and I have no doubt that this is the same indi- 
 
GUY MANNEEINGf. 153 
 
 vidual; wliich, however, your acute discriiniriatiou will 
 easily be able to ascertain." 
 
 " The same, my good sir, he must assuredly be — it 
 would be injustice even to the meanest of the people, to 
 suppose there could be found among them two persons 
 doomed to bear a name so shocking to one's ears as this 
 of Yanbeest Brown." 
 
 "True, Sir Robert; most unquestionably; there can- 
 not be a shadow of doubt of it. But you see farther, 
 that this circumstance accounts for the man's desperate 
 conduct. You, Sir Robert, will discover the motive for 
 his crime — you, I say, will discover it without difficulty, 
 on your giving your mind to the examination ; for my part, 
 I cannot help suspecting the moving spring to have been 
 revenge for the gallantry with which Mr. Hazlewood, 
 with all the spirit of his renowned forefathers, defended 
 the house at Woodbourne against this villain and his 
 lawless companions." 
 
 " I will inquire into it, my good sir," said the learned 
 Baronet. " Yet even now I venture to conjecture that I 
 shall adopt the solution or explanation of this riddle, 
 enigma, or mystery, which you have in some degree thus 
 started. Yes ! revenge it must be — and, good Heaven ! 
 entertained by and against whom ? — entertained, fostered, 
 cherished against young Hazlewood of Hazlewood, and 
 in part carried into effect, executed, and implemented, by 
 the hand of Vanbeest Brown ! These are dreadful days 
 indeed, my worthy neighbour " (this epithet indicated a 
 rapid advance in the Baronet's good graces) — " days when 
 the bulwarks of society are shaken to their mighty base, 
 and that rank, which forms, as it were, its highest grace 
 and ornament, is mingled and confused with the viler 
 parts of the architecture. Oh my good Mr. Gilbert 
 
154 
 
 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Glossin, in my time, sir, tlie use of swords and pistols, 
 and such honourable arms, was reserved by the nobil- 
 ity and gentry to themselves, and the disputes of the 
 vulgar were decided by the weapons which nature had 
 given them, or by cudgels, cut, broken, or hewed out of 
 the next wood. But now, sir, the clouted shoe of the 
 peasant galls the kibe of the courtier. The lower ranks 
 have their quarrels, sir, and their points of honour, and 
 their revenges, which they must bring, forsooth, to fatal 
 arbitrament. But well, well ! it wiU last my time — ^let 
 us have in this fellow, this Vanbeest Brown, and make 
 an end of him at least for the present." 
 
 mmn 
 
QUT MANNERING. 155 
 
 CHAPTER XLin. 
 
 'Twas he 
 
 Gave heat unto the injury, which returned. 
 Like a petard ill lighted, into the bosom 
 Of him gave fire to't. Yet I hope his hurt 
 Is not so dangerous but he may recover. 
 
 Faib Maid op the !»». 
 
 The prisoner was now presented before the two wor- 
 Bhipful magistrates. Glossin, partly from some compunc- 
 tious visitings, and partly out of his cautious resolution 
 to suffer Sir Robert Hazlewood to be the ostensible man- 
 ager of the whole examination, looked down upon the 
 table, and busied himself with reading and arranging 
 the papers respecting the business, only now and then 
 throwing in a skilful catchword as prompter, when he saw 
 the principal, and apparently most active, magistrate 
 stand in need of a hint. As for Sir Robert Hazlewood, 
 he assumed, on his part, a happy mixture of the austeiity 
 of the justice, combined with the display of personal dig- 
 nity appertaining to the Baronet of ancient family. 
 
 " There, constables, let him stand there at the bottom 
 of the table. — Be so good as look me in the face, sir, and 
 raise your voice as you answer the questions which I am 
 going to put to you." 
 
 '• May I beg, in the first place, to know, sir, who it is 
 that takes the trouble to interrogate me ? " said the pris- 
 oner ; " for the honest gentlemen who have brought me 
 
156 TVAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 here, have not been pleased to furnish any information 
 upon that point." 
 
 " And pray, sir," answered Sir Robert, " what has my 
 name and quality to do with the questions I am about to 
 ask you ? " 
 
 " Nothing, perhaps, sir," rephed Bertram ; "but it 
 may considerably influence my disposition to answer 
 them." 
 
 " Why, then, sir, you will please to be infoi-med that 
 you are in the presence of Sir Robert Hazlewood of 
 Hazlewood, and another justice of peace for this county 
 —that's ah." 
 
 As this intimation produced a less stunning effect upon 
 the prisoner than he had anticipated, Sir Robert pro- 
 ceeded in his iQvestigation with an increasing dishke to 
 the object of it. 
 
 " Is your name Yanbeest Brown, sir ? " 
 
 " It is," answered the prisoner. 
 . " So far well ; — and how are we to design you farther, 
 su* ? " demanded the Justice. 
 
 " Captain in his Majesty's regiment of horse," 
 
 answered Bertram. 
 
 " The Baronet's ears received this intimation with as- 
 tonishment ; but he was refreshed in courage by an incred- 
 ulous look from GlossiQ, and by hearing him gently utter 
 a sort of interjectional whistle, in a note of surprise and 
 contempt. " I believe, my friend," said Sir Robert, " we 
 shall fmd for you, before we part, a more humble title." 
 
 " If you do, sir," replied his prisoner, " I shall wil- 
 lingly submit to any punishment which such an imposture 
 shall be thought to deserve." 
 
 " Well, sir, we shall see," continued Sir Robert. " Do 
 you know young Hazlewood of Hazlewood ? " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 157 
 
 '* I never saw the gentleman who I am Informed bears 
 that name exceptmg once, and I regret that it was under 
 very unpleasant ch'cumstances." 
 
 " You mean to acknowledge, then," said the Baronet, 
 *' that you inflicted upon young Hazlewood of Hazlewood 
 that wound w^hich endangered his life, considerably lacer- 
 ated the clavicle of his right shoulder, and deposited, as 
 the family surgeon declares, several large drops or slugs 
 in the acromion process ? " 
 
 " Why, sir," replied Bertram, " I can only say I am 
 equally ignorant of and sorry for the extent of the damage 
 which the young gentleman has sustained. I met him in 
 a narrow path, walking with two ladies and a servant, and 
 before I could either pass them or address them, this 
 young Hazlewood took his gun from his servant, pre- 
 sented it against my body, and commanded me in the 
 most haughty tone to stand back. I was neither inclined 
 to submit to his authority, nor to leave him in possession 
 of the naeans to injure me, which he seemed disposed to 
 use with such rashness. I therefore closed with him for 
 the purpose of disarming him ; and just as I had nearly 
 effected my purpose, the piece went off accidentally, and, 
 to my regret then and since, inflicted upon the young gen- 
 tleman a severer chastisement than I desired, though I 
 am glad to understand it is like to prove no more than 
 his unprovoked folly deserved." 
 
 " And so, sir," said the Baronet, every feature swollen 
 with offended dignity, — " you, sir, admit, sir, that it was 
 your purpose, sir, and your intention, sir, and the real jet 
 and object of your assault, sir, to disarm young Hazle- 
 wood of Hazlewood of his gun, sir, or his fowling-piece, 
 or his fuzee, or whatever you please to call it, sir, 
 upon the' king's highway, sir ? — I think this will dcs 
 
158 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 my worthy neighbour ! I thmk he should stand com- 
 mitted ? " 
 
 " You are by far the best 'judge, Sir Robert," said 
 Glossin, in his most insinuating tone ; " but if I might 
 presume to hint, there was something about these smug- 
 glers." 
 
 '' Very true, good sir. — And besides, sir, you, Van- 
 beest Brown, who call yourself a captain in his Majesty's 
 service, are no better or worse than a rascally mate of a 
 smuoj2;ler ! " 
 
 " Really, sir," said Bertram, " you are an old gentle- 
 man, and acting under some strange delusion, otherwise I 
 should be very angry with you." 
 
 '' Old gentleman, sir ! — strange delusion, sir ! " said Sir 
 Robert, colouring with indignation — " I protest and de- 
 clare Why, su", have you any papers or letters that 
 
 can estabhsh your pretended rank, and estate, and com- 
 mission : 
 
 " None at present, su'," answered Bertram ; — " but in 
 the return of a post or two " 
 
 " And how do you, sir," continued the Baronet, " if you 
 are a captam m his Majesty's service, how do you chance 
 to be travelling in Scotland without letters of introduction, 
 credentials, baggage, or anything belonging to your pre- 
 tended rank, estate, and condition, as I said before ? " 
 
 " Sir," replied the prisoner, " I had the misfortune to 
 be robbed of my clothes and baggage." 
 
 " Oho ! then you are the gentleman who took a post- 
 
 ctaise from to Kippletringan, gave the boy the slip 
 
 on the road, and sent two of your accompUces to beat the 
 Doy and bring away the baggage ? " 
 
 " I was, sir, in a carriage as you describe, was obliged 
 to alight in the snow, and lost my w^ay endeavouring to 
 
GUY MANNERING. 159 
 
 find the road to Kippletringan. The landlady of the inn 
 will inform you that on my arrival there the next day, my 
 first inquiries were after the boy." 
 
 " Then give me leave to ask where you spent the 
 night ? — not in the snow, I presume ? you do not suppose 
 tliat will pass, or be taken, credited, and received ?" 
 
 '* I beg leave," said Bertram, his recollection turning 
 to the gipsy female, and to the promise he had given her, 
 " I beg leave to decUne answering that question." 
 
 " I thought as much," said Sir Robert. — " Were you 
 not, during that night, in the ruins of Derncleugh ? — ^in 
 the ruins of Derncleugh, sir ? " 
 
 " I have told you that I do not intend answering that 
 question," replied Bertram. 
 
 " Well, sir, then you will stand committed, sir," said Sir 
 Robert, " and be sent to prison, sir, that's all, sir. — Have 
 the goodness to look at these papers : are you the Van- 
 beest Brown who is there mentioned ? " 
 
 It must be remarked that Glossin had shuffled among 
 the papers some writings which really did belong to Ber- 
 tram, and which had been found by the officers in the old 
 vault where his portmanteau was ransacked. 
 
 " Some of these papers," said Bertram, looking over 
 them, " are mine, and were in my portfolio when it was 
 stolen from the post-chaise. They are memoranda of 
 little value, and, I see, have been carefully selected as 
 affording no evidence of my rank or character, which 
 many of the other papers would have established fully. 
 They are mingled with ship-accounts and other papers, 
 belonging apparently to a person of the same name." 
 
 " And wilt thou attempt to persuade me, friend," de- 
 manded Sir Robert, " that there are two persons in this 
 country, at the same time, of thy very uncommon and 
 awkwardly sound mg name?" 
 
160 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " I really do not see, sir, as there is an old Hazlewood 
 and a young Hazlewood, why there should not be an old 
 and a young Vanbeest Brown. And to speak seriously^ 
 I. was educated in Holland, and I know that this name, 
 
 however uncouth it may sound in British ears " 
 
 Glossin, conscious that the prisoner was now about to 
 enter upon dangerous ground, interfered, though the 
 interruption was unnecessary, for the purpose of divert- 
 ing the attention of Sir Robert Hazlewood, who was 
 speechless and motionless with indignation at the pre- 
 sumptuous comparison implied in Bertram's last speech. 
 In fact, the veins of his throat and of his temples swelled 
 almost to bursting, and he sat with the indignant and dis- 
 concerted air of one who has received a mortal insult 
 from a quarter to which he holds it unmeet and in- 
 decorous to make any reply. While with a bent brow 
 and an angry eye he was drawing in his breath slowly 
 and majestically, and puffing it forth again with deep and 
 solemn exertion, Glossin stepped in to his assistance. " I 
 should think, now. Sir Robert, with great submission, 
 that this matter may be closed. One of the constables, 
 besides the pregnant proof already produced, offers to 
 make oath, that the sword of which the prisoner was this 
 morning deprived (while using it, by the way, in resist- 
 ance to a legal warrant) was a cutlass taken from him in 
 a fray between the officers and smugglers, just previous 
 to their attack upon Woodbourne. And yet," he added, 
 " I would not have you form any rash construction upon 
 Ihat subject ; perhaps the young man can explain how he 
 came by that weapon." 
 
 " That question, sir," said Bertram, " I shall also leave 
 unanswered." 
 
 "There is yet another circumstance to be inquired 
 
GUY MANNEKING. Ibl 
 
 into, always under Sir Robert's leave," insinuated Glossin. 
 * This prisoner put into the hands of Mrs. Mae-Candlish 
 of Kippletringan, a parcel containing a variety of gold 
 coins and valuable articles of different kinds. Perhaps, 
 Sir Robert, you might think it right to ask, how he came 
 by property of a description which seldom occurs." 
 
 "You, sir — Mr. Vanbeest Brown, sir,— you hear the 
 question, sir, which the gentleman asks you ? " 
 
 " I have particular reasons for declining to answer that 
 question," answered Bertram. 
 
 " Then I am afraid, sir," said Glossin, who had 
 brought matters to the point he desired to reach, " our 
 duty must lay us under the necessity to sign a warrant of 
 committal." 
 
 " As you please, sir," answered Bertram : " take care, 
 however, what you do. Observe, that I inform you that 
 
 I am a captain in his Majesty's regiment, and that 
 
 I am just returned from India, and therefore cannot pos- 
 sibly be connected with any of those contraband traders 
 you talk of ; that my Lieutenant-Colonel is now at Not- 
 tingham, the Major, with the officers of my corps, at 
 Kingston-upon-Thames. I offer before you both to sub- 
 mit to any degree of ignominy, if, within the return of the 
 Kingston and Nottingham posts, I am not able to establish 
 these points. Or you may write to the agent for the 
 r( giment, if you please, and " 
 
 " This is all very well, sir," said Glossin, beginning ta 
 fear lest the firm expostulation of Bertram should make 
 some impression on Sir Robert, who would almost have 
 died of shame at committing such a solecism as sending a 
 captain of horse to jail — " This is all very well, sir ; 
 but is there no person nearer whom you could refer to ? " 
 
 " There are only two persons in this country who know 
 
 VOL. IV. 11 
 
162 WAYERLEY XOYELS. 
 
 anytliing of me," replied the prisoner. " One is a plain 
 Liddesdale slieep-farmer, called Diiimont of Charlies- 
 hope ; but he knows nothing more of me than what I told 
 liim, and what I now tell you." 
 
 " Why, this is well enough, Sir Robert ! " said Glossin. 
 " I suppose he would bring forward this thick-skulled 
 fellow to give his oath of creduhty, Sir Robert, ha! 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 "And what is your other \vitness, friend ?" said the 
 Baronet. 
 
 " A gentleman whom I have some reluctance to men- 
 tion, because of certain private reasons ; but under whose 
 command I served some time in India, and who is too 
 much a man of honour to refuse his testimony to my 
 character as a soldier and gentleman." 
 
 " And who is this doughty witness, pray, sir ? " said Sir 
 Robert, — "some half-pay quarter-master or sergeant, I 
 suppose?" 
 
 " Colonel Guy Mannering, late of the regiment, 
 
 in which, as I told you, I have a troop." 
 
 " Colonel Guy Mannering ! " thought Glossin, — " who 
 the devil could have guessed this ? " 
 
 " Colonel Guy Mannering ! " e<2hoed the Baronet con- 
 siderably shaken in his opinion. — " My good sir," — apart 
 to Glossin, " the young man with a dreadfully plebeian 
 name, and a good deal of modest assurance, has, never- 
 theless, something of the tone, and manners, and feeling 
 of a gentleman, of one at least who has hved in got d 
 society ; — they do give commissions very loosely, and 
 carelessly, and inaccurately, in India ; — I think we had 
 better pause till Colonel Mannering shall return ; he is 
 now, I believe at Edinburgh." 
 
 " You are in every respect the best judge, Sir Robert," 
 
GUY MANNERING. 163 
 
 answered Glossin, " in every possible respect. I would 
 only submit to you, that we are certainly hardly entitled 
 to dismiss this man upon an assertion which cannot be 
 satisfied by proof, and that we shall incur a heavy re- 
 sponsibility by detaining him in private custody, without 
 committing him to a public jail. Undoubtedly, however, 
 you are the best judge, Sir Robert ; — and I would only 
 say, for my own part, that I very lately incurred severe 
 censure by detaining a person in a place whit-h I thought 
 perfectly secure, and under the custody of the proper 
 officers. The man made his escape, and I have no doubt 
 my own character for attention and circumspection as a 
 magistrate has in some degree suiFered — I only hint this 
 — I will join in any step you. Sir Robert, think most ad- 
 visable." But Ml'. Glossin was well aware that such a 
 hint was of power sufficient to decide the motions of his 
 self-important, but not self-relying colleague. So that Sir 
 Robert Hazlewood summed up the business in the fol- 
 lowing speech, which proceeded partly upon the sup- 
 position of the prisoner being really a gentleman, and 
 partly upon the opposite belief that he was a villain and 
 an assassin. 
 
 " Sir, Mr. Vanbeest Brown — ^I would call you Captain 
 Bro\vn if there was the least reason, or cause, or grounds 
 to suppose that you are a captain, or had a troop in the 
 very respectable corps you mention, or indeed in any 
 other corps in his Majestj'^s service, as to which circum- 
 stance I beg to be understood to give no positive, settled, 
 or unalterable judgment, declaration, or opinion. I say 
 therefore, sir, Mr. Brown, we have determined, consider- 
 ing the unpleasant predicament in which you now stand, 
 having been robbed, as you say, an assertion as to which 
 I suspend my opinion, and being possessed of much and 
 
164 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 valuable treasure, and of a brass-handled cutlass besides, 
 as to your obtaining which you will favour us with no 
 explanation — I saj, sir, we have determined and re- 
 solved, and made up our minds, to commit you to jail, 
 or rather to assign you an apartment therein, in order 
 that you may be forthcoming upon Colonel Mannering's 
 return from Edinburgh." 
 
 " With humble submission. Sir Robert," said Glossin, 
 "may I inquire if it is your purpose to send this young 
 gentleman to the county jail ? — for if that were not your 
 settled intention, I would take the liberty to hint, that 
 there would be less hardship in sending him to the 
 Bridewell at Portanferry, where he can be secured 
 without pubKc exposure, — a circumstance which, on the 
 mere chance of his story being really true, is much to be 
 avoided." 
 
 " Why, there is a guard of soldiers at Portanferry 
 to be sure, for protection of the goods in the Custom- 
 house ; and upon the whole, considering everything, and 
 that the place is comfortable for such a place — I say, aL 
 things considered, we will commit this person, I would 
 rather say authorize him to be detained, in the workhouse 
 at Portanferry." 
 
 The warrant was made out accordingly, and Bertram 
 was informed he was next morning to be removed to his 
 place of confinement, as Sir Robert had determined he 
 should not be taken there under cloud of night, for fear 
 of rescue. He was, during the interval, to be detained at 
 Hazlewood-House. 
 
 "It cannot be so hard as my imprisonment by the 
 Looties in India," he thought ; nor can it last so long. 
 But the deuce take the old formal dunderhead, and his 
 more sly associate, who speaks always under his breath, 
 
GUr MANNERING. 165 
 
 — they cannot understand a plain man's story when it id 
 told them." 
 
 In the meanwhile Glossin took leave of the Baronet, 
 with a thousand respectful bows and cringing apologies 
 for not accepting his invitation to dinner, and venturing 
 to hope he might be pardoned in paying his respects to 
 him. Lady Hazlewood, and young Mr. Hazlewood, on 
 some future occasion. 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said the Baronet, very graciously. 
 " I hope our family was never at any time deficient in 
 civihty to our neighbours ; and when I ride that way, 
 good Mr. Glossin, I will convince you of this by calling 
 at your house as familiarly as is" consistent — that is, as 
 can be hoped or expected." 
 
 "And now," said Glossin to himself, "to find Dirk 
 Hatteraick and his people, — ^to get the guard sent off 
 from the Custom-house, — and then for the grand cast of 
 the dice. Everything must depend upon speed. How 
 lucky that Mannering has betaken himself to Edinburgh ! 
 His knowledge of this young fellow is a most perilous 
 addition to my dangers," — here he suffered his horse to 
 slacken his pace. " What if I should try to compound 
 with the heir ? It's likely he might be brought to pay 
 a round sum for restitution, and I could give up Hatter- 
 aick. — But no, no, no ! there were too many eyes on me, 
 — Hatteraick himself, and the gipsy sailor, and that old 
 hag.~No, no ! I must stick to my original plan." And 
 with that he struck his spurs against his horse's flanks, 
 and rode forward at a hard trot to put his machines in 
 motion. 
 
166 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 A prison is a house of care, 
 A place where none can thrive, 
 A touchstone true to try a friend, 
 A grave for one alive. 
 Sometimes a place of right, 
 Sometimes a place of wrong, 
 Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves, 
 And honest men among. 
 
 Inscription on Edinbueoh Tolbooth. 
 
 Early on the following morning, the carriage which 
 had brought Bertram to Hazlewood-House, was, with his 
 two silent and surly attendants, appointed to convey him 
 to his place of confinement at Portanferry. This build- 
 ing adjoined to the Custom-house established at that httle 
 sea-port, and both were situated so close to the sea-beach, 
 that it was necessary to defend the back part with a large 
 and strong rampart or bulwark of huge stones, disposed 
 in a slope towards the surf, which often reached and 
 broke upon them. The front was surrounded by a high 
 wall, enclosing a small court-yard, within which the 
 miserable inmates of the mansion were occasionally per- 
 mitted to take exercise and air. The prison was used as 
 a House of Correction, and sometimes as a chapel of ease 
 to the county jail, which was old, and far from being con- 
 veniently situated with reference to the Kippletringan 
 district of the county. Mac-Guffog, the officer by whom 
 Bertram had at first been apprehended, and who was 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 167 
 
 now in attendance upon him, was keeper of this palace 
 of little-ease. He caused the carriage to be drawn close 
 up to the outer gate, and got out himself to summon the 
 warders. The noise of his rap alarmed some twenty or 
 thirty ragged boys, who left off sailing their mimic sloops 
 and frigates in the little pools of salt water left by the 
 receding tide, and hastily crowded round the vehicle to 
 ree what luckless being was to be delivered to the prison- 
 house out of " Glossin's braw new carriage." The door 
 of the court-yard, after the heavy clanking of many chains 
 and bars, was opened by Mrs. Mac-Guffog — an awful 
 spectacle, being a woman for strength and resolution 
 capable of maintaining order among her riotous inmates, 
 and of administering the discipline of the house, as it was 
 called, during the absence of her husband, or when he 
 chanced to have taken an over-dose of the creature. The 
 growling voice of this Amazon, which rivalled in harsh- 
 ness the crashing music of her own bolts and bars, soon 
 dispersed in every direction the little varlets who had 
 thronged around her threshold, and she next addressed 
 her amiable helpmate : — 
 
 " Be sharp, man, and get out the swell, canst thou 
 not?" 
 
 " Hold your tongue and be d — d, you ! " an- 
 swered her loving husband, with two additional epithets 
 of great energy, but which we beg to be excused from 
 repeating. Then, addressing Bertram, — " Come, will 
 you get out, my handy lad, or must we lend you a lift ? " 
 
 Bertram came out of the carriage, and, collared by the 
 constable as he put his foot on the ground, was dragged, 
 though he offered no resistance, across the threshold, 
 amid the continued shouts of the little sans culottes, who 
 looked on at such distance as their fear of Mrs. Mao^ 
 
168 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Guffog permitted. The instant his foot had crossed the 
 fatal porch, the portress again di'opped her chains, di-ew 
 her bolts, and turning with both hands an immense key, 
 took it from the lock, and thrust it into a huge side- 
 pocket of red cloth. 
 
 Bertram was now in the small court already men- 
 tioned. Two or three prisoners were sauntering along 
 the pavement, and deriving as it were a feeling of 
 refreshment from the momentary glimpse with wliich the 
 opening door had extended their prospect to the other 
 side of a dirty street. Nor can this be thought surpris- 
 ing, when it is considered, that, unless on such occasions, 
 their view was confined to the grated front of their prison, 
 the high and sable walls of the court-yard, the heaven 
 above them, and the pavement beneath their feet; a 
 sameness of landscape, which, to use the poet's expres- 
 sion, " lay like a load on the wearied eye," and had 
 fostered in some a callous and dull misanthropy, in others 
 that sickness of the heart which induces him who is im- 
 mured already in a living grave, to wish for a sepulchre 
 yet more calm and sequestered. 
 
 Mac-Guffog, when they entered the court-yard, suf- 
 fered Bertram to pause for a minute, and look upon his 
 companions in affliction. When he had cast his eye 
 around, on faces on which guilt, and despondence, and 
 low excess, had fixed their stigma — upon the spendthrift, 
 and the swindler, and the thief, the bankrupt debtor, the 
 *' moping idiot, and the madman gay," whom a paltry 
 spiiit of economy congregated to share this dismal habi- 
 tation, he felt his heart recoil with inexpressible loathing 
 from enduring the contamination of their society even for 
 a moment. 
 
 " I hope, sir," he said to the keeper, " you intend to 
 assign me a place of confinement apart ? " 
 
GUY MAN]<fERmG. 169 
 
 " And what should I be the better of that ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, I can but be detained here a day or two, 
 and it would be very disagreeable to me to mix in the 
 sort of company this place affords." 
 
 " And what do I care for that ? " 
 
 " Why, then, sir, to speak to your feelings," said Ber- 
 tram, " I should be willing to make you a handsome 
 compliment for this indulgence." 
 
 " Ay, but when, Captain ? when and how ? that's the 
 question, or rather the twa questions," said the jailor. 
 
 '"• When I am delivered, and get my remittances from 
 England," answered the prisoner. 
 
 Mac-Guffog shook his head incredulously. 
 
 " Why, friend, you do not pretend to believe that I am 
 really a malefactor ? " said Bertram. 
 
 " Why, I no ken," said the fellow ; " but if you are on 
 the account, ye're nae sharp ane, that's the day-light o't." 
 
 " And why do you say I am no sharp one ? " 
 
 " Why, wha but a crack-brained greenhorn wad hae 
 let them keep up the siller that ye left at the Gordon- 
 Arms ? " said the constable. " Deil fetch me, but I wad 
 have had it out o' their wames ! Ye had nae right to be 
 strippit o' your money and sent to jail without a mark to 
 pay your fees ; they might have keepit the rest o' the 
 articles for evidence. But why, for a blind bottle-head, 
 did not ye ask the guineas ? and I kept winking and 
 nodding a' the time, and the donnert deevil wad never 
 ance look my way ! " 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Bertram, " if I have a title to have 
 that property delivered up to me, I shall apply for it ; 
 ai:d there is a good deal more than enough to pay any 
 demand you can set up." 
 
 " I dinna ken a bit about that," said Mac-Guffog ; " ye 
 
170 TTAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 may be here lang eneugh. And then the gieing credit 
 maun be considered in the fees. But, however, as ye do 
 seem to be a chap by common, though my wife says I 
 lose by my good-nature, if ye gie me an order for my 
 fees upon that money — I dare say Glossin will make it 
 foith coming — I ken something about an escape from 
 Ellangowan — ay, ay, he'll be glad to carry me through, 
 nnd be neighbour-hke." 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Bertram, " if I am not furnished 
 in a day or two otherwise, you shall have such an order." 
 
 " Weel, weel, then ye shall be put up like a prince," 
 said Mac-Guffog. "But mark ye me, triend, that we 
 may have nae colly -shangie afterhend, these are the fees 
 that I always charge a swell that must have his Hb-ken 
 to himsell — Thirty shillings a-week for lodgings, and a 
 guinea for garnish ; half-a-guinea a-week for a single bed, 
 and I dinna get the whole of it, for I must gie half-a- 
 crown out of it to Donald Laider that's in for sheep- 
 stealing, that should sleep with you by rule, and he'll 
 expect clean strae, and maybe some whisky beside. So 
 I make little upon that." 
 
 " Well, sir, go on." 
 
 " Then for meat and liquor, ye may have the best, and 
 I never charge abune twenty per cent, ower tavern price 
 for pleasing a gentleman that way — and that's littlb 
 oneugh for sending in and sending out, and wearing the 
 lassie's shoon out. And then if ye're dowie, I will sit wi* 
 you a gliff in the evening mysell, man, and help ye out 
 wi' your bottle ; — I have drank mony a glass wi' Glossin, 
 man, that did you up, though he's a Justice now. And 
 then I'se warrant ye'll be for fire thir cauld nights, or if 
 ye want candle, that's an expensive article, for it's against 
 the rules. And now I've tell'd ye the head articles of 
 
GUY MANNERING. 171 
 
 the charge, and I dinna think there's muckle mail', though 
 there will aye be some odd expenses ower and abune." 
 
 " Well, sir, I must trust to your conscience, if ever you 
 happened to hear of such a thing — I cannot help myself." 
 
 '' Na, na, sir," answered the cautious jailor, " I'll no 
 permit you to be saying that — I'm forcing naething upon 
 ye; — an ye dinna like the price, ye needna take the 
 article — I force no man; I was only explaining what 
 civility was : but if ye like to take the common run of 
 the house, it's a' ane to me — I'll be saved trouble, 
 that's a'." 
 
 " Nay, my friend, I have, as I suppose you may easily 
 guess, no incHnation to dispute your terms upon such a 
 penalty," answered Bertram. " Come, show me where I 
 am to be, for I would fain be alone for a little while." 
 
 " Ay, ay, come along then, Captain," said the fellow, 
 with a contortion of visage which he intended to be a 
 smile. " And I'll tell you now, — to show you that I have 
 a conscience, as ye ca't, d — n me if I charge ye abune 
 sixpence a-day for the freedom o' the court, and ye may 
 walk in't very near three hours a-day, and play at pitch- 
 and-toss, and handba', and what not." 
 
 With this gracious promise, he ushered Bertram into 
 the house, and showed him up a steep and narrow stone 
 staircase, at the top of which was a strong door, clenched 
 with iron and studded with nails. Beyond this door was 
 a narrow passage or gallery, having three cells on each 
 side, wretched vaults, with iron bed-frames and straw 
 mattresses. But at the farther end was a small apart- 
 ment, of rather a more decent appearance, — that is, having 
 less the air of a place of confinement, since, unless for 
 the large lock and chain upon the door, and the crossed 
 and ponderous stanchions upon the window, it rather 
 
172 TTAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 resembled tlie " worst inn's worst room." It was designed 
 as a sort of infirmary for prisoners whose state of health 
 required some indulgence ; and, in fact, Donald Laider, 
 Bertram's destined chum, had been just dragged out of 
 one of the two beds which it contained, to try whether 
 clean straw and whisky might not have a better chance 
 to cure his intermitting fever. This process of ejection 
 had been carried into force by Mrs. Mac-Guffog while 
 her husband parleyed with Bertram in the court-yard, 
 that good lady having a distinct presentiment of the 
 manner in which the treaty must necessarily terminate. 
 Apparently the expulsion had not taken place without 
 some application of the strong hand, for one of the bed- 
 posts of a sort of tent-bed was broken down, so that the 
 tester and curtains hung forward into the middle of the 
 narrow chamber, like the banner of a cliieftain, half sink- 
 ing amid the confusion of a combat. 
 
 " Never mind that being out o' sorts, Captain," said 
 Mrs. Mac-Guffog, who now followed them into the room; 
 then turning her back to the prisoner, with as much deU- 
 cacy as the action admitted, she whipped from her knee 
 her ferret garter, and applied it to splicing and fastening 
 the broken bed-post — then used more pins than her 
 apparel could well spare to fasten up the bed-curtains in 
 festoons — then shook the bed-clothes into something like 
 form — then flung over all a tattered patch-work quilt, and 
 pronounced that things were now " something purpose- 
 like." " And there's your bed. Captain," pointing to a 
 massy foar-posted hulk, which, owing to the inequality 
 of the floor, that had sunk considerably, (the house, though 
 new, having been built by contract,) stood on three legs, 
 and held the fourth aloft as if pawing the air, and in the 
 attitude of advancing like an elephant passant upon the 
 
GUT MANNERING. 173 
 
 panel of a coacli — " There's your bed and the blankets ; 
 but if ye want sheets, or bowster, or pillow, or ony sort 
 o' napery for the table, or for your hands, ye'll hae to 
 speak to me about it, for that's out o' the gudeman's line,'* 
 (Mac-Guffog had by this time left the room, to a\oid, 
 probably, any appeal which might be made to him upon 
 this new exaction,) " and he never engages for onything 
 like that." 
 
 " In God's name," said Bertram, " let me have what is 
 decent, and make any charge you please." 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, that's sune settled ; we'll no excise you 
 neither, though we live sae near the Custom-house. And 
 I maun see to get you some fire and some dinner too, I'se 
 warrant ; but your dinner will be but a puir ane the day, 
 no expecting company that would be nice and fashions." — 
 So saying, and in all haste, Mrs. Mac-GufFog fetched a 
 scuttle of live coals, and having replenished " the rusty 
 gi'ate, unconscious of a fire " for months before, she pro- 
 ceeded with unwashed hands to arrange the stipulated 
 bed-linen, (alas, how diiFerent from Ailie Dinmont's !) 
 and, muttering to herself as she discharged her task, 
 seemed, in inveterate spleen of temper, to grudge even 
 those accommodations for which she was to receive pay- 
 ment At length, however, she departed, grumbling 
 between her teeth, that " she wad rather lock up a haill 
 ward than be fiking about thae nifi*-nafiy gentles that gae 
 sae muckle fash wi' their fancies." 
 
 When she was gone, Bertram found himself reduced 
 to the alternative of pacing his little apartment for exer- 
 cise, or gazing out upon the sea in such proportions as 
 could be seen from the narrow panes of his window, ob- 
 scured by dirt and by close iron -bars, or reading over the 
 records of brutal wit and blackguardism which despair 
 
174 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 had scrawled upon the half-whitened walls. The sounds 
 were as uncomfortable as the objects of sight ; the sullen 
 dash of the tide, which was now retreating, and the occa- 
 sional opening and shutting of a door, with all its accom- 
 paniments of jarring bolts and creaking hinges, mingling 
 occasionally with the dull monotony of the retiring ocean. 
 Sometimes, too, he could hear the hoarse gi'owl of the 
 keeper, or the shriller strain of his helpmate, almost 
 always in the tone of discontent, anger, or insolence. At 
 other times the large mastiff, chained in the court-yard, 
 answered with furious bark the insults of the idle loiterers 
 who made a sport of incensing him. 
 
 At length the tedium of this weary space was broken 
 by the entrance of a dirty-looking serving wench, who 
 made some preparations for dinner by laying a half-dirty 
 cloth upon a whole-dirty deal table. A knife and fork, 
 which had not been worn out by overcleanin^, flanked a 
 cracked delf-plate ; a nearly-empty mustard-pot placed on 
 one side of the table, balanced a salt-cellar, containing an 
 article of a greyish, or rather a blackish mixture, upon 
 the other, both of stone-ware, and bearing too obvious 
 marks of recent service. Shortly after, the same Hebe 
 brought up a plate of beef-collops, done in the frying-pan, 
 with a huge allowance of grease floating in an ocean of 
 lukewarm water ; and having added a coarse loaf to these 
 savoury viands, she requested to know what liquors the 
 gentleman chose to order. The appearance of this fare 
 was not very inviting ; but Bertram endeavoured to mend 
 his commons by ordering wine, which he found tolerably 
 good, and, with the assistance of some indifferent cheese, 
 made his dinner chiefly off the brown loaf. When his 
 meal was over, the girl presented her master's compli- 
 ments, and, if agreeable to the gentleman, he would help 
 
GUY MANNERINO. 17** 
 
 him to spend the evening. Bertram desired to be excused, 
 and begged, instead of this gracious society, that he might 
 be furnished with paper, pen, ink, and candles. The 
 light appeared in the shape of one long broken tallow- 
 candle, inclining over a tin candlestick coated with grease ; 
 as for the writing materials, the prisoner was informed 
 that he might have them the next daj if h*e chose to send 
 out to buj them. Bertram next desired the maid to 
 procure him a book, and enforced his request with a shil- 
 ling ; in consequence of which, after long absence, she 
 reappeared with two odd volumes of the Newgate Cal- 
 endar, which she had borrowed from Sam Silverquill, an 
 idle apprentice, who was imprisoned under a charge of 
 forgery. Having laid the books on the table, she retired, 
 and left Bertram to studies which were not ill adapted to 
 his present melancholy situation. 
 
176 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 * CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 But if thou shouldst be dragged in scorn 
 
 To yonder ignominious tree, 
 Thou Shalt not want one faithful friend 
 
 To share the cruel fate's decree. 
 
 Shbnsione. 
 
 Plunged in the gloomy reflections which were natu- 
 rally excited by his dismal reading, and disconsolate 
 situation, Bertram, for the first time in his life, felt liimself 
 affected with a disposition to low spirits. " I have been 
 in worse situations than this too," he said ; — " more 
 dangerous, for here is no danger — more dismal in pros- 
 pect, for my present confinement must necessarily be 
 short — more intolerable for the time, for here at least I 
 have fire, food, and shelter. Yet with reading these 
 bloody tales of crime and misery, in a place so corre- 
 sponding to the ideas which they excite, and in listening 
 to these sad sounds, I feel a stronger disposition to mel- 
 ancholy than in my hfe I ever experienced. But I will 
 not give way to it — Begone, thou record of guilt and 
 infamy ! " he said, flinging the book upon the spare bed ; 
 " a Scottish jail shall not break, on the very first day, the 
 spirits which have resisted climate, and want, and penury, 
 and disease, and imprisonment, in a foreign land. I have 
 fought many a hard battle with dame Fortune, and she 
 shall not beat me now if I can helj) it." 
 
 Then bending his mind to a strong ejQTort, he endear* 
 
GUT MANNERING. 177 
 
 oured to view Ms situation in the most favourable light, 
 Delaserre must soon be in Scotland ; the certificates from 
 his commanding-officer must soon arrive ; nay, if Man- 
 nering were first applied to, who could saj but the effect 
 might be a reconciliation between them ? He had often 
 observed, and now remembered, that when his former 
 colonel took the part of any one, it was never by halves, 
 and that he seemed to love those persons most who had 
 lain under obligation to him. In the present case, a fa- 
 vour, which could be asked with honour and granted with 
 readiness, might be the means of reconciling them to 
 each other. From this his feelings naturally turned 
 towards Julia; and, without very nicely measuring the 
 distance between a soldier of fortune, who expected that 
 her father's attestation would deliver him from confine- 
 ment, and the heiress of that father's wealth and expecta- 
 tions, he was building the gayest castle in the clouds, and 
 varnishing it with all the tints of a summer-evening sky, 
 when his labour was interrupted by a loud knocking at 
 the outer-gate, answered by the barking of the gaunt 
 half-starved mastiff, which was quartered in the court- 
 yard as an addition to the garrison. After much scru- 
 pulous precaution the gate was opened, and some person 
 admitted. The house-door was next unbarred, unlocked, 
 and unchained, a dog's feet pattered up stairs in great 
 hafte, and the animal was heard scratching and whining 
 at the door of the room. Next a heavy step was heard 
 lumbering up, and Mac-Guffog's voice in the character 
 of pilot — " This way, this way ; take care of the step ;— - 
 that's the room." — Bertram's door was then unbolted, 
 and, to his great surprise and joy, his terrier Wasp 
 rushed into the apartment, and almost devoured him with 
 
 VOL. IV. 12 
 
178 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 caresses, followed hj the massy form of his fiiend from 
 Charlies-hope. 
 
 " Eh whow ! Eh whow ! " ejaculated the honest farmer, 
 as he looked round upon his friend's miserable apartment 
 and wretched accommodation — " What's this o't ! what's 
 this o't ! " 
 
 " Just a trick of Fortune, jrj good friend," said Ber- 
 tram, rising and shaking him heartily by the hand, 
 "that's all." 
 
 " But what will be done about it ? — or what can be 
 done about it?" said honest Dandie : " is't for debt, or 
 what is't for ? " 
 
 " Why, it is not for debt," answered Bertram ; " and 
 if you have time to sit down, I'll tell you all I know of 
 the matter myself." 
 
 " If I hae time ? " said Dandie, with an accent on the 
 word that sounded like a howl of derision — " Ou, what 
 the deevil am I come here for, man, but just ance errand 
 to see about it ? But ye'll no be the waur o' something 
 to eat, I trow ; — it's getting late at e'en — I tell'd the folk 
 at the Change, where I put up Dumple, to send ower my 
 supper here, and the chield Mac-Guffog is agreeable to 
 let it in — I hae settled a' that. — And now let's hear your 
 story — Whisht, Wasp, man ! wow but he's glad to see 
 you, poor thing ! " 
 
 Bertram's story, being confined to the accident of Ha- 
 zlewood, and the confusion made between his own identity 
 and that of one of the smuojsrlers who had been active in 
 the assault of Woodbourne, and chanced to bear the same 
 name, was soon told. Dinmont listened very attentively. 
 " Aweel," he said, " this suld be nae sic dooms-desperate 
 business surely — the lad's doing weel again that was hurt, 
 and what signifies twa or three lead draps in his shouther .'' 
 
GUY MANNERING. . 179 
 
 if ye had putten out his ee, it would hae been another 
 case. But eh, as I wnss auld Sherra Pleydell was to the 
 fore here ! — Od, he was the man for sorting them, and 
 the queerest rough-spoken deevil too that ever ye heard ! '* 
 
 " But now tell me, my excellent friend, how did you 
 find out I was here ? " 
 
 " Od, lad, queerly eneugh," said Dandie ; " but I'll tell 
 ye that after we are done wi' our supper, for it will 
 maybe no be sae weel to speak about it while that lang- 
 lugged limmer o' a lass is gaun flisking in and out o' the 
 room." 
 
 Bertram's curiosity was in some degree put to rest by 
 the appearance of the supper which his friend had 
 ordered, which, although homely enough, had the appe- 
 tizing cleanhness in which Mrs. Mac-Guffog's cookery 
 was so eminently deficient. Dinmont also, premising he 
 had ridden the whole day since breakfast-time, without 
 tasting anything " to speak of," which qualifying phrase 
 related to about three pounds of cold roast mutton which 
 he had discussed at his mid-day stage, — Dinmont, I say, 
 fell stoutly upon the good cheer, and, like one of Homer's 
 heroes, said little, either good or bad, till the rage of 
 thirst and hunger was appeased. At length, after a 
 draught of home-brewed ale, he began by observing, 
 " Aweel, aweel, that hen," looking upon the lamentable 
 relics of what had been once a large fowl, " wasna a bad 
 ane to be bred at a town end, though it's no like our barn- 
 door chuckles at Charlies-hope — and I am glad to see 
 that this vexing job hasna taen awa your appetite, 
 Captain." 
 
 " Why really, my dinner was not so excellent, Mr, 
 Dinmont, as to spoil my supper." 
 
 " I daur say no — I daur say no," said Dandie. — " But 
 
180 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 now, hinny, tliat ye liae brought us the brandy, and th« 
 mug wi' the het water, and the sugar, and a' right, yo 
 may steek the door, ye see, for we wad hae some o' our 
 ain cracks." The damsel accordingly retired, and shut 
 the door of the apartment, to which she added the pre- 
 caution of drawing a large bolt on the outside. 
 
 As soon as she was gone, Dandie reconnoitred the 
 premises, listened at the key-hole as if he had been H^tcn- 
 ing for the blowing of an otter, — and having satisfied him- 
 self that there were no eavesdroppers, returned to the 
 table ; and making himself what he called a gej stiff 
 cheerer, poked the fire, and began his story in an 
 undertone of gravity and importance not very usual 
 with him. 
 
 " Ye see. Captain, I had been in Edinbro' for twa or 
 three days, looking after the burial of a friend that we 
 hae lost, and may be I suld hae had something for my 
 ride ; but there's disappointments in a' thmgs, and wha 
 can help the like o' that ? And I had a wee bit law 
 business besides, but that's neither here nor there. In 
 short, I had got my matters settled, and hame I cam ; 
 and the morn awa to the muirs to see what the herds had 
 been about, and I thought I might as weel gie a look to 
 the Tout-hope head, where Jock o' Dawston and me has 
 the outcast about a march. Weel, just as I was coming 
 upon the bit, I saw a man afore me that I kenn'd was 
 nane o' our herds, and it's a wild bit to meet ony other 
 body, so when I cam up to him, it was Tod Gabriel the 
 fox-hunter. So I says to him, rather surprised like, 
 * What are ye doing up amang the craws here, without 
 your hounds, man ? are ye seeking the fox without the 
 dogs ? ' So he said, ' Na, gudeman, but I wanted to see 
 youi'sell.' 
 
GXJY MANNERING. 181 
 
 " ' Ay,' said I, * and ye'U be wanting eliding now, or 
 something to pit ower the winter ? ' 
 
 " ' Na, na,' quo' he, ' it's no that I'm seeking ; but ye 
 tak an unco concern in that Captain Brown that was 
 staying wi' you, d'ye no ? ' 
 
 " ' Troth do I, Gabriel,' says I ; ' and what about him, 
 lad ? ' 
 
 " Says he, ' There's mair tak an interest in him than 
 you, and some that I am bound to obey ; and it's no just 
 on my ain will that I'm here to tell you something about 
 him that will no please you.' 
 
 " ' Faith, naething will please me,' quo' I, ' that's no 
 pleasing to him.' 
 
 " ' And then,' quo' he, ' ye'U be ill-sorted to hear that 
 he's like to be in the prison at Portanferry, if he disna 
 tak a' the better care o' himsell, for there's been warrants 
 out to tak him as soon as he comes ower the water frae 
 Allonby. And now, gudeman, an ever ye wish him weel, 
 ye maun ride down to Portanferry, and let nae grass grow 
 at the nag's heels ; and if ye find him in confinement, ye 
 maun stay beside him night and day, for a day or twa, for 
 he'll want friends that hae baith heart and hand ; and if 
 ye neglect this, ye'U never rue but ance, for it wUl be for 
 a' your life.' 
 
 " ' But, safe us, man,' quo' I, ' how did ye learn a' this ? 
 —it's an unco way between this and Portanferry.' 
 
 " ' Never ye mind that,' quo' he ; ' them that brought 
 us the news rade night and day, and ye maun be aff in- 
 stantly if ye wad do ony gude — and sae I have naething 
 mair to tell ye.' Sae he sat himsell doun and hirselled 
 doun into the glen, where it wad hae been ill following 
 him wi' the beast, and I cam back to Charlies-hope to teU 
 the gudewife, for I was uncertain what to do. It wad 
 
182 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 look unco-like, I thought, just to be sent out on a hunt- 
 the-gowk errand wi' a land-louper like that. But, Lord"! 
 as the gudewife set up her throat about it, and said what 
 a shame it wad be if ye was to come to ony wrang, an I 
 could help ye ; — and then in cam your letter that con- 
 firmed it. So I took to the kist, and out wi' the pickle 
 notes in case they should be needed, and a' the bairns ran 
 to saddle Dumple. By gi-eat luck I had taen the other 
 beast to Edinbro', sae Dumple was as fresh as a rose. 
 Sae aff I set, and Wasp wi' me, for ye wad really hae 
 thought he kenn'd where I was gaun, puir beast ; and 
 here I am after a trot o' sixty mile, or near by. But 
 Wasp rade thirty o' them afore me on the saddle, and the 
 puir doggie balanced itsell as ane of the weans wad hae 
 dune, whether I trotted or cantered." 
 
 In this strange story Bertram obviously saw, supposing 
 the warning to be true, some intimation of danger more 
 violent and imminent than could be likely to arise from a 
 few days' imprisonment. At the same time it was equally 
 evident that some unknown friend was working in his 
 behalf. " Did you not say," he asked Dinmont, " that 
 this man Gabriel was of gipsy blood ? " 
 
 " It was e'en judged sae," said Dinmont, " and I think 
 this maks it likely ; for they aye ken where the gangs o' 
 ilk ither are to be found, and they can gar news flee like 
 a foot-ba' through the country an they like. An' I forgat 
 to tell ye, there's been an unco inquiry after the auld wife 
 that we saw in Bewcastle ; the sheriff's had folk ower 
 the Limestane Edge after her, and down the Hermitage 
 and Liddel, and a' gates, and a rewai"d offered for her 
 to appear, o' fifty pound sterling, nae less ; and Justice 
 Forster, he's had out warrants, as I am tell'd, in Cumber- 
 land, and an unco ranging and riping they have had a* 
 
GUY MANNERING. 183 
 
 gates seeking for her — but she'll no be taen wi' them 
 unless she likes, for a' that." 
 
 " And how comes that?" said Bertram. 
 
 " Ou, I dinna ken ; I daur say it's nonsense, but they 
 say she has gathered the fern-seed, and can gang ony 
 gate she likes, like Jock-the- Giant-killer in the ballant, 
 wi' his coat o' darkness and his shoon o' swiftness. Ony 
 way she's a kind o' queen amang the gipsies ; she is mair 
 than a hundred year auld, folk say, and minds the coming 
 in o' the moss-troopers in the troublesome times when the 
 Stuarts were put awa. Sae, if she canna hide hersell, 
 she kens them that can hide her weel eneugh, ye needna 
 doubt that. Od, an I had kenn'd it had been Meg 
 Merrilies yon night at Tibb Mumps's, I wad taen care 
 how I crossed her." 
 
 Bertram listened with great attention to this account, 
 which tallied so well in many points with what he had 
 himself seen of this gipsy sibyl. After a moment's con- 
 sideration, he concluded it would be no breach of faith to 
 mention what he had seen at Derncleugh to a person who 
 held Meg in such reverence as Dinmont obviously did. 
 He told his story accordingly, often interrupted by ejacu- 
 lations, such as, " Weel, the like o' that now ! " or, " Na, 
 deil an that's no something now ! " 
 
 When our Liddesdale friend had heard the whole to an 
 end, he shook his great black head — " Weel, I'll uphaud 
 there's baith gude and ill amang the gipsies, and, if they 
 deal wi' the Enemy, it's a' their ain business, and no oui-s. 
 I ken what the streeking the corpse wad be, weel eneugh. 
 Thae smuggler deevils, when ony o' them's killed in a 
 fray, they'll send for a wife like Meg far eneugh to dress 
 the corpse — od, it's a' the burial they ever think o' ! and 
 then to be put into the ground without ony decency, just 
 
184 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 like dogs. But they stick to it tliat they'll be streekit, 
 and hae an auld wife when they're dying, to rhyme ower 
 prayers, and ballants, and charms, as they ca' them, rather 
 than they'll hae a mmister to come and pray wi' them — 
 that's an auld threep o' theirs ; and I am thinkmg the 
 man that died will hae been ane o' the folk that was shot 
 when they burnt Woodbourne." 
 
 " But, my good friend, Woodbourne is not burnt," said 
 Bertram. 
 
 " Weel, the better for them that bides in't " — answered 
 the store-farmer. " Od, we had it up the water wi' us, 
 that there wasna a stane on the tap o' anither. But there 
 was fighting, ony way ; I daur to say, it would be fine fun ! 
 And, as I said, ye may take it on trust, that that's been 
 ane o' the men killed there, and that it's been the gipsies 
 that took your pockmanky when they fand the chaise 
 stickin' in the snaw — they wadna pass the like o' that — 
 it wad just come to their hand like the bowl o' a pint 
 stoup." * 
 
 " But if this woman is a sovereign among them, why 
 was she not able to afford me open protection, and to get 
 me back my property ? " 
 
 " Ou, wha kens "^ she has muckle to say wi' them, but 
 whiles they'll tak their ain way for a' that, when they're 
 under temptation. And then there's the smugglers that 
 they're aye leagued wi' ; she maybe couldna manage them 
 sae weel — they're aye banded thegither. I've heard that 
 the gipsies ken when the smugglers will come aff, and 
 where they're to land, better than the very merchants that 
 deal wi' them. And then, to the boot o' that, she's whiles 
 crack-brained, and has a bee in her head ; they say that 
 
 * The handle of a stoup of liquor ; than which, our proverb seems 
 to infer, there is nothing comes more readily to the g" asp. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 185 
 
 whether Ler spaeings and fortune-tellings be true or no, 
 for certain slie believes in them a' liersell, and is aye 
 guiding hersell by some queer prophecy or anither. So 
 she disna aye gang the straight road to the well.— But 
 deil o' sic a story as yours, wi' glamour aud dead follv and 
 losing ane's gate, I ever heard out o' the tale-bookb ! — 
 But whisht, I hear the keeper coming." 
 
 Mac-Guffog accordingly interrupted their discourse by 
 the harsh harmony of the bolts and bars, and showed tiis 
 bloated visage at the openhig door. " Come, Mr. Din- 
 mont, we have put off locking up for an hour to obhge 
 ye ; ye must go to your quarters." 
 
 " Quarters, man ? I intend to sleep here the night. 
 There's a spare bed in the Captain's room." 
 
 " It's impossible ! " answered the keeper. 
 
 "But I say it is possible, and that I wmna stii — and 
 there's a dram t'ye." 
 
 Mac-Guffog drank off the spirits, and resumed his ob- 
 jection. " But it's against rule, sir ; ye have committed 
 nae malefaction." 
 
 " I'll break your head," said the sturdy Liddesdale 
 man, " if ye say ony mair about it, and that will be mal- 
 efaction eneugh to entitle me to ae night's lodging wi' you, 
 ony way." 
 
 " But I tell ye, Mr. Dinmont, reiterated the keeper, 
 " it's against rule, and I behoved tc lose my post." 
 
 "Weel, Mac-Guffog," said Dai) die, "I hae just twa 
 things to say. Ye ken wha I am -^yeel eneugh, and that 
 I wadna loose a prisoner." 
 
 " And how do I ken that ? " answered the jailor. 
 
 '* Weel, if ye dinna ken that," said the resolute farmer, 
 '* ye ken this ; — ye ken ye're whiles obhged to be up our 
 water in the way o' your business ; now, if ye let me stay 
 
186 WAVERLEY XOYELS. 
 
 quiellj here tlie night wi' the Captain, I'se pay je double 
 fees for the room ; and if ye say no, ye shall hae the best 
 sark-fu' o' sair banes that ever ye had in your life, the 
 first time ye set a foot by Liddel-moat ! " 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, gudeman," said Mac-Guffog, " a wilfu* 
 man maun hae his way ; but if I am challenged for it by 
 the justices, I ken wha sail bear the wyte ;" and having 
 sealed this observation with a deep oath or two, he re- 
 tired to bed, after carefully securing all the doors of the 
 Bridewell. The bell from the tow^n steeple tolled nine 
 just as the ceremony w^as concluded. 
 
 " Although it's but early hours," said the farmer, who 
 had observed that his friend looked somewhat pale and 
 fatigued, " I think we had better lie dowm, Captain, if 
 ye're no agreeable to another cheerer. But troth, ye're 
 nae glass-breaker ; and neither am I, miless it be a screed 
 wi' the neighbours, or when I'm on a ramble." 
 
 Bertram readily assented to the motion of his faithful 
 friend, but, on looking at the bed, felt repugnance to trust 
 himself undressed to jMi's. Mac-Gufibg's clean sheets. 
 
 " I'm muckle o' your opinion. Captain," said Dandie. 
 " Od, this bed looks as if a' the colliers in Sanquhar had 
 been in't thegither. But it'U no w^in through my muckle 
 coat." So saying, he flung himself upon the frail bed 
 ■with a force that made all its timbers crack, and in a few 
 moments gave audible signal that he was fast asleep. 
 Bertram slipped off his coat and boots, and occupied the 
 other dormitory. The strangeness of his destiny, and the 
 mysteries \vhich appeared to thicken around him, while 
 he seemed ahke to be persecuted and protected by secret 
 enemies and friends, arising out of a class of people wHth 
 w^hom he had no previous connexion, for some time occu- 
 pied his thoughts. Fatigue, however, gradually com- 
 
GUT MANNEEING. 
 
 187 
 
 posed his mind, and in a short time he was as fast asleep 
 as his companion. And in this comfortable state of ob- 
 livion we must leave them, until we acquaint the reader 
 with some other circumstances which occurred about th-j 
 same period. 
 
188 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL VI. 
 
 Say from whence 
 
 You owe this strange intelligence? or why 
 Upon this blasted heath you stop our way 
 With such prophetic greeting? — 
 Speak, I charge you. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Upon the evening of the day when Bertram's exami- 
 nation had taken place, Colonel Mannering arrived at 
 "Woodbom-ne from Edinburgh. He found his family in 
 their usual state, which probably, so far as Julia was con- 
 cerned, would not have been the case had she learned the 
 news of Bertram's arrest. But as, during the Colonel's 
 absence, the two young ladies lived much retired, this cir- 
 cumstance fortunately had not reached Woodbourne. A 
 letter had already made JMiss Bertram acquainted with 
 the downfall of the expectations which had been formed 
 upon the bequest of her kinswoman. Whatever hopes 
 that news might have dispelled, the disappointment did 
 not prevent her from joining her friend in affording a 
 cheerful reception to the Colonel, to whom she thus en- 
 deavoured to express the deep sense she entertained of 
 his paternal kindness. She touched on her regret, that 
 at such a season of the year he should have made, upon 
 her account, a journey so fruitless. 
 
 " That it was fruitless to you, my dear," said the Colo- 
 nel, " I do most deeply lament ; but for my owti share, I 
 
GUT MANNERING. 189 
 
 have made .some valuable acquaintances, and have spent 
 the time I have been absent in Edinburgh with pecuUar 
 satisfaction ; so that, on that score, there is nothing to be 
 regretted. Even our friend the Dominie is returned 
 thrice the man he was, from having sharpened his wits in 
 controversy with the geniuses of the northern metrop- 
 olis." 
 
 " Of a surety," said the Dominie, with great compla- 
 v>3ncy, " I did wrestle, and was not overcome, though my 
 adversary was cunning in his art." 
 
 " I presume," said Miss Mannering, " the contest was 
 somewhat fatiguing, Mr. Sampson ? " 
 
 "Very much, young lady — howbeit, I girded up my 
 loins and strove against him." 
 
 *' I can bear witness," said the Colonel, " I never saw 
 an affair better contested. The enemy was Hke the 
 Mahratta cavalry ; he assailed on all sides, and presented 
 no fair mark for artillery ; but Mr. Sampson stood to his 
 guns, notwithstanding, and fired away, now upon the en- 
 emy, and now upon the dust which he had raised. But 
 we must not fight our battles over again to-night — ^to- 
 morrow we shall have the whole at breakfast." 
 
 The next morning at breakfast, however, the Dominie 
 did not make his appearance. " He had walked out, a ser- 
 vant said, early in the morning ; — it was so common for 
 him to forget his meals, that his absence never deranged 
 the family. The housekeeper, a decent old-fashioned 
 Presbyterian matron, having, as such, the highest respect 
 for Sampson's theological acquisitions, had it in charge on 
 these occasions to tal^e care that he was no sufferer by his 
 absence of mind, and therefore usually waylaid him on 
 his return, to remind him of his sublunary wants, and to 
 minister to their relief. It seldom, however, happened 
 
190 WAYEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 that he was absent from two meals together, as was the 
 case in the present instance. We must explain the cause 
 of this unusual occurrence. 
 
 The conversation which Mr. Plejdell had held with 
 ]Mr. Mannering on the subject of the loss of Harry Ber- 
 tram, had awakened all the painful sensations which that 
 event had intiicted upon Sampson. The affectionate 
 heart of the poor Dominie had always reproached him, 
 that his negligence m leaving the child in the care of 
 Frank Kennedy had been the proximate cause of the 
 murder of the one, the loss of the other, the death of 
 Mrs. Bertram, and the ruin of the family of his patron. 
 It was a subject which he never conversed upon, — if in- 
 deed his mode of speech could be called conversation at 
 any time, — but it was often present to his imagination. 
 The sort of hope so strongly affirmed and asserted in 
 Mrs. Bertram's last settlement, had excited a correspond- 
 ing feeling in the Dominie's bosom, which was exasper- 
 ated into a sort of sickening anxiety, by the discredit 
 with which Pleydell had treated it. — " Assuredly," thought 
 Sampson to himself, " he is a man of erudition, and well 
 skilled in the weighty matters of the law ; but he is also 
 a man of humorous levity and inconsistency of speech ; 
 and wherefore should he pronounce ex cathedra^ as it 
 were, on the hope expressed by worthy Madam Margaret 
 Bertram of Singleside ? " 
 
 All this, I say, the Dominie thought to himself ; for had 
 he uttered half the sentences, his jaws would have ached 
 for a month under the unusual fatigue of such a continued 
 exertion. The result of these cogitations was a resolution 
 to go and visit the scene of the tragedy at Warroch Point, 
 where he had not been for many y^ars — not, indeed, since 
 the fatal accident had happened The walk was a long 
 
GUY MANNERING. 191 
 
 one, for tlie Point of TVarrocli lay on the farther side of 
 the Ellangowan property, which was interposed between 
 it and Woodbourne. Besides, the Dominie went astray 
 more than once, and met with brooks swollen into torrents 
 by the melting of the snow, where he, honest man, had 
 only the summer-recollection of little trickling rills. 
 
 At length, however, he reached the woods which he 
 had made the object of his excursion, and traversed them 
 with care, muddling his disturbed brains with vague 
 efforts, to recall every circumstance of the catastrophe. 
 It will readily be supposed that the influence of local 
 situation and association was inadequate to produce con- 
 clusions different from those which he had formed under 
 the immediate pressure of the occurrences themselves. 
 " With many a weary sigh, therefore, and many a groan," 
 the poor Dominie returned from his hopeless pilgrimage, 
 and wearily plodded his way towards Woodbourne, de- 
 bating at times in his altered mind a question which was 
 forced upon him by the cravings of an appetite rather of 
 the keenest, namely, whether he had breakfasted that 
 morning or no ? — It was in this twilight humour, now 
 thinking of the loss of the child, then involuntarily com- 
 pelled to meditate upon the somewhat incongruous subject 
 of hung-beef, rolls, and butter, that his route, which was 
 different from that which he had taken in the morning, 
 conducted him past the small ruined tower, or rather 
 vestige of a tower, called by the country people the Kaim 
 of Derncleugh. 
 
 The reader may recollect the description of this ruin 
 in the twenty-seventh chapter of this narrative, as the 
 vault in which young Bertram, under the auspices of Meg 
 MeiTihes, witnessed the death of Hatteraick's lieutenant. 
 The tradition of the country added ghostly terrors to the 
 
192 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 natural awe inspired by the situation of this place — ^which 
 terrors the gipsies, who so long inhabited the vicinity, had 
 probably invented, or at least propagated, for their own 
 advantage. It was said, that during the times of the 
 Galwegian independence, one Hanlon Mac-Dingawaie 
 brother to the reigning chief, Knarth Mac-Dingawaie, 
 murdered his brother and sovereign, in order to usurp 
 the principahty from his infant nephew, and that being 
 pursued for vengeance by the faithful allies and retainers 
 of the house, who espoused the cause of the lawful heir, 
 he was compelled to retreat with a few followers whom 
 he had involved in his crime, to this impregnable tower 
 called the Kaim of Derncleugh, where he defended him- 
 self until nearly reduced by famine, when, setting fire to 
 the place, he and the small remaining garrison desperately 
 perished by their own swords, rather than fall into the 
 hands of their exasperated enemies. This tragedy, which, 
 considering the wild times wherein it was placed, might 
 have some foundation in truth, was larded with many 
 legends of superstition and diablerie, so that most of the 
 peasants of the neighbourhood, if benighted, would rather 
 have chosen to make a considerable circuit, than pass 
 these haunted waUs. The lights, often seen around the 
 tower when used as the rendezvous of the lawless char- 
 acters by whom it was occasionally frequented, were 
 accounted for, under authority of these tales of witchery, 
 in a manner at once convenient for the private parties 
 CGDcemed, and satisfactory to the pubhc. 
 
 Now it must be confessed that our friend Sampson, 
 although a profound scholar and mathematician, had not 
 travelled so far in pliilosophy as to doubt the reality of 
 witchcraft or apparitions. Born indeed at a time when a 
 doubt in the existence of witches was interpreted as 
 
GUT MANNERING. 193 
 
 equivalent to a justification of their infernal practices, a 
 belief of such legends had been impressed upon the 
 Dominie as an article indivisible from his rehgious faith ; 
 and perhaps it would have been equally difficult to have 
 induced him to doubt the one as the other. With these 
 feelings, and in a thick misty day, which was already 
 drawing to its close, Dominie Sampson did not pass the 
 Kaim of Derncleugh without some feelings of tacit 
 horror. 
 
 What, then, was his astonishment, when, on passing 
 the door — that door which was supposed to have been 
 placed there by one of the latter Lairds of Ellangowan 
 to prevent presumptuous strangers from incurring the 
 dangers of the haunted vault — that door, supposed to be 
 always locked, and the key of which was popularly said 
 to be deposited with the presbytery — that door, that /ery 
 door, opened suddenly, and the figure of Meg Merrilies, 
 well known, though not seen for many a revolving year, 
 was placed at once before the eyes of the startled Do- 
 minie ! She stood immediately before him in the footpath, 
 confronting him so absolutely, that he could not avoid her 
 except by fairly turning back, which his manhood pre- 
 vented him from thinking of. 
 
 " I kenn'd ye wad be here," she said, with her harsh 
 and hollow voice : " I ken wha ye seek ; but ye maun 
 do my bidding." 
 
 " Get thee behind me ! " said the alarmed Dominie 
 — " Avoid ye ! — Gonjuro te, scelestissima — neqnissima 
 — spurcissima — iniquissima — atque miserrima — conjuro 
 te ! I ! " 
 
 Meg stood her ground against this tremendous volley 
 of superlatives, which Sampson hawked up from the pit 
 
 VOL. IV. 13 
 
194 WAVEHLEY NOVELS. 
 
 of his stomacli, and hurled at her in thunder. " Is tha 
 osjcl daft," she said, " wi' his glamour ? " 
 
 " Conjuro," continued the Dominie, " ahjuro, contestor 
 atque viriliter impero tihi ! " — 
 
 " What in the name of Sathan, are ye feared for, wi' 
 your French gibberish, that would make a dog sick ? 
 Listen, ye stickit stibbler, to what I tell ye, or ye sail rue 
 it while there's a limb o' ye hings to anither! Tell 
 Colonel Mannerinoj that I ken he's seeking me. He 
 kens, and I ken, that the blood will be wiped out, and the 
 lost will be found, 
 
 And Bertram's right and Bertram's might 
 Shall meet on Ellangowan height. 
 
 Hae, there's a letter to him ; I was gaun to send it in 
 another way. — I canna write mysell ; but I hae them that 
 will baith write and read, and ride and rin for me. Tell 
 him the time's coming now, and the weird's dreed, and 
 the wheel's turning. Bid him look at the stars as he has 
 looked at them before. — Will ye mind a' this ? '* 
 
 " Assuredly," said the Dominie, " I am dubious — ^for, 
 woman, I am perturbed at thy words, and my flesh quakes 
 to hear thee." 
 
 " They'll do you nae ill though, and maybe muckle 
 gude." 
 
 " Avoid ye ! I desire no good that comes by unlawful 
 means." 
 
 " Fule-body that thou art ! " said Meg, stepping up to 
 him with a frown of indignation that made her dark eyes 
 flash like lamps from under her bent brows — "Fule-body I 
 if I meant ye wrang, couldna I clod ye OAver that craig, 
 and wad man ken how ye cam by your end mair than 
 Frank Kennedy ? Hear ye that, ye worricow ? " 
 
 " In the name of all that is good," said the Dominie, 
 
GUY MANNERIXG. 195 
 
 recoiling, and pointing his long pewter-headed waliing- 
 cane hke a javelin at the supposed sorceress, — " in the 
 name of all that is good, bide off hands ! I will not be 
 handled — woman, stand off, upon thine own proper peril ! 
 —desist, I say — I am strong — lo, I will resist ! " Here 
 his speech was cut short; for Meg, armed with super- 
 natural strength, (as the Dominie asserted,) broke in 
 upon his guard, put by a thrust which he made at her 
 with his cane, and lifted him into the vault, " as easily," 
 said he, " as I could sway a Kitchen's Atlas." 
 
 " Sit down there," she said, pushing the half-throttled 
 preacher with some violence against a broken chair — 
 " sit down there, and gather your wind and your senses, 
 ye black barrow-tram o' the kirk that ye are ! — Are ye 
 fou or fasting ? " 
 
 " Fasting — from all but sin," answered the Dominie, 
 who, recovering his voice, and finding his exorcisms only 
 served to exasperate the intractable sorceress, thought it 
 best to affect complaisance and submission, inwardly 
 conning over, however, the wholesome conjurations which 
 he durst no longer utter aloud. But as the Dominie's 
 brain was by no means equal to carry on two trains of 
 ideas at the same time, a word or two of his mental 
 exercise sometimes escaped, and mingled with his uttered 
 speech in a manner ludicrous enough, especially as the 
 poor man shrunk himself together after every escape of 
 the kind, from terror of the effect it might produce upon 
 Iho irritable feehngs of the witch. 
 
 Meg, in the meanwhile, went to a great black cauldrcn 
 that was boiling on a fire on the floor, and, lifting the 
 lid, an odour was diffused through the vault, which, if the 
 vapours of a witch's cauldron could in aught be trusted, 
 promised better things than the hell-broth which such 
 
196 WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 vessels are usually supposed to contain. It was in fact 
 the savour of a goodly stew, composed of fowls, hares, 
 partridges, and moorgame, boiled in a large mess with 
 potatoes, onions, and leeks, and, from the size of the 
 cauldron, appeared to be prepared for half a dozen cf 
 people at least. 
 
 " So ye hae eat naething a' day ? " said Meg, heaving 
 a large portion of this mess into a brown dish, and strew- 
 ing it savourily with salt and pepper.* 
 
 " Nothing," answered the Dominie — " scelestissima I — 
 that is — gudewife." 
 
 " Hae, then," said she, placing the dish before him, 
 " there's what will warm your heart." 
 
 "I do not hunger — malefica — that is to say — Mrs. 
 MerriUes ! " for he said unto himself, " the savour is 
 sweet, but it hath been cooked by a Canidia or an 
 Ericthoe." 
 
 " If ye dinna eat instantly, and put some saul in ye, by 
 the bread and the salt, I'll put it down your throat wi' the 
 cutty spoon, scaulding as it is, and whether ye will or no. 
 Gape, sinner, and swallow ! " 
 
 * We must again have recourse to the contribution to Blackwood's 
 Magazine, AprQ 1817: — 
 
 " To the admirers of good eating, gipsy cookery seems to have little 
 to recommend it. I can assui-e you, however, that the cook of a noble- 
 man of high distinction, a person who never reads even a novel with- 
 out an eye to the enlargement of the culinary science, has added to 
 the Almanach des Gourmands, a certain Potage a la Meg Mernlies de 
 Derndeugh, consisting of game and poultry of all kinds, stewed with 
 vegetables into a soup, which rivals in savour and richness the gallant 
 messes of Camacho's wedding; and which the Baron of Bradwai'dine 
 would certainly have reckoned among the Epulos lauiiores.'''' 
 
 The artist alluded to in this passage, is Mons. Florence, cook to 
 Henry and Charles, late Dukes of Buccleuch, and of high distinctioB 
 in his profession. 
 
GUT MANNERIXG. 197 
 
 Sampson, afraid of eye of newt, and toe of frog, 
 tigers' chaudrons, and so forth, had determined not to 
 venture ; but the smell of the stew was fast melting his 
 obstinacy, which flowed from his chops as it were in 
 streams of water, and the witch's threats decided him to 
 feed. Hunger and fear are excellent casuists. 
 
 "Saul," said Hunger, "feasted with the witch of 
 Endor." — " And," quoth Fear, " the salt which she 
 sprinkled upon the food showeth plainly it is not a 
 necromantic banquet, in which that seasoning never 
 occurs." — "And besides," says Hunger, after the first 
 spoonful, " it is savoury and refreshing viands." 
 
 " So ye like the meat ? " said the hostess. 
 
 " Yea," answered the Dominie, " and I give thee 
 thanks — sceleratissima! — which means — JMrs. Margaret." 
 
 " Aweel, eat your fill ; but an ye kenn'd how it was 
 gotten, ye maybe wadna like it sae week" Sampson's 
 spoon di'opped, in the act of conveying its load to his 
 mouth. " There's been mony a moonhght watch to bring 
 a' that trade thegither," continued Meg, — " the folk that 
 are to eat that dinner thought httle o' your game-laws." 
 
 " Is that all ? " thought Sampson, resuming his spoon, 
 and shovelling away manfully ; " I will not lack my food 
 upon that argument." 
 
 " Now, ye maun tak a dram." 
 
 " I will," quoth Sampson — " conjuro te — that is, I 
 thank you heartily," for he thought to himself, in for a 
 penny in for a pound; and he fairly drank the witch's 
 health in a cupful of brandy. When he had put this 
 cope-stone upon Meg's good cheer, he felt, as he said, 
 " mightily elevated, and afraid of no evil which could 
 befall unto him." 
 
 " Will ye remember my errand now ? " said Meg Mer- 
 
198 WATEELET NOVELS. 
 
 rilies ; " I ken by the cast o' tout ee that je're anither 
 man than when vou cam in." 
 
 " I will, Mrs. Margaret," repeated Sampson, stoutly ; 
 " I will dehver unto him the sealed yepistle, and will add 
 what you please to send by word of mouth." 
 
 " Then I'U make it short," says Meg. " TeU him to 
 look at the stars without fail this night, and to do what I 
 desii-e him in that letter, as he would wish 
 
 That Beitram's right and Bertram's might 
 Should meet on Ellangowan height. 
 
 I have seen him twice when he saw na me ; I ken when 
 he was in tliis country first, and I ken what's brought him 
 back again. Up, an' to the gate ! ye're ower lang here— 
 follow me." 
 
 Sampson followed the sibyl accordingly, who guided 
 him about a quarter of a nule thi-ough the woods, by a 
 shorter cut than he could have found for himself; they 
 then entered upon the common, Meg still marching before 
 him at a great pace, until she gained the top of a small 
 hillock which overhung the road. 
 
 " Here," she said, " stand still here. Look how the 
 setting sun breaks through yon cloud that's been darken- 
 ing the lift a' day. See where the first stream o' Hght 
 fa's — it's upon Donagild's round tower — the auldest tower 
 in the Castle o' Ellangowan — that's no for naething ! — • 
 See as it's glooming to seaward abune yon sloop m the bay 
 — that's no for naething neither. — Here I stood on lliis 
 very spot," said she, drawing herself up so as not to lose 
 one hair-breadth of her uncommon height, and stretching 
 out her long sinewy ai'm and clenched hand — " here I 
 stood when I tauld the last Laii'd o' Ellangowan what 
 was coming on his house ; — and did that fa' to the ground ? 
 
GUY MANNERING. 199 
 
 Na — it hit even ower sair ! And here, where 1 brake 
 tlie wand of peace ower him — here I stand again — to 
 bid God bless and prosper the just heir of Ellangowan, 
 that will sune be, brought to his ain ; and the best laird 
 he shall be that Ellangowan has seen for three hundred 
 years. I'll no live to see it, maybe ; but there will be 
 mony a blythe ee see it, though mine be closed. And 
 now, Abel Sampson, as ever ye lo'ed the house of Ellan- 
 gowan, away wi' my message to the English Colonel, as 
 if life and death were upon your haste ! " 
 
 So saying, she turned suddenly from the amazed 
 Dominie, and regamed with swift and long strides the 
 shelter of the wood from which she had issued, at the 
 point where it most encroached upon the common. Samp- 
 son gazed after her for a moment in utter astonishment, 
 and then obeyed her directions, hurrying to Woodbourne 
 at a pace very unusual for him, exclaiming three times, 
 " Prodigious ! prodigious ! pro-di-gi-ous ! " 
 
200 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL VII. 
 
 It is not madness 
 
 That I have uttered ; bring me to the test, 
 And I the matter will re-word ; which madness 
 Would gambol from. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 As Mr. Sampson crossed the hall with a bewildered 
 look, Mrs. Allan, the good housekeeper, who, with the 
 reverent attention which is usually rendered to the clergy 
 in Scotland, was on the watch for his return, sallied forth 
 to meet him — " What's this o't now, Mr. Sampson ; this 
 is waur than ever ! — ye'U really do yourself some injury 
 wi' these lang fasts — naething's sae hurtful to the stamach, 
 Mr. Sampson ; — if ye would but put some peppermint 
 draps in your pocket, or let Barnes cut ye a sandwich." 
 
 " Avoid thee ! " quoth the Dominie, his mind running 
 still upon his interview with Meg Merrilies, and making 
 for the dining-parlour. 
 
 " Na, ye needna gang in there — the cloth's been re- 
 moved an hour syne, and the Colonel's at his wine : but 
 just step into my room- — I have a nice steak that the 
 cook will do in a moment." 
 
 " Exorciso te ! " said Sampson, — " that is, I have 
 dined." 
 
 " Dined ! it's impossible — wha can ye hae dined wi', 
 you that gangs out nae gate ? " 
 
 " With Beelzebub, I believe," said the minister. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 201 
 
 " Na, then he's bewitched for certam," said the house- 
 keeper, letting go her hold ; " he's bewitched, or he's daft, 
 and ony waj the Colonel maun just guide him his ain 
 gate. Wae's me ! Hech, sirs ! It's a sair thing to see 
 learning bring folk to this ! " And with this compassion- 
 ate ejaculation she retreated into her own premises. 
 
 The object of her commiseration had by this time en- 
 tered the dining-parlour, where his appearance gave great 
 surprise. He was mud up to the shoulders, and the nat- 
 ural paleness of his hue was twice as cadaverous as usual, 
 through terror, fatigue, and perturbation of mind. " What 
 on earth is the meaning of this, Mr. Sampson ? " said 
 Mannering, who observed Miss Bertram looking much 
 alarmed for her simple but attached friend. 
 
 " Exorciso^' — said the Dominie. 
 
 " How, sir ? " replied the astonished Colonel. 
 
 " I crave pardon, honourable sir ! but my wits " — 
 
 ."Are gone a wool-gathering, I think. Pray, Mr. 
 Sampson, collect yourself, and let me know the meaning 
 of all this." 
 
 Sampson was about to reply, but finding his Latin 
 formula of exorcism still came most readily to his tongue, 
 he prudently desisted from the attempt, and put the scrap 
 of paper which he had received from the gipsy into Mam- 
 nering's hand, who broke the seal and read it with sur- 
 prise. " This seems to be some jest," he said, " and a 
 very dull one." 
 
 " It came from no jesting person," said Mr. Sampson. 
 
 " From whom then did it come ? " demanded Man- 
 nering. 
 
 The Dominie, who often displayf;d some delicacy of 
 recollection in cases where Miss Bertram had an interest, 
 remembered the painful circumstvAHces connected with 
 
202 WAVERLEY NOYELS. 
 
 Meg Merrilies, looked at the young ladies, and remained 
 silent. " We will join jou at the tea-table in an instant, 
 Julia," said the Colonel ; " I see that ]Mi\ Sampson wishes 
 to speak to me alone. — And now they are gone, what, in 
 Heaven's name, Mr. Sampson, is the meaning of all 
 this?" 
 
 " It may be a message from Heaven," said the Domi- 
 Mie, " but it came by Beelzebub's jDOstmistress. It was 
 that witch, Meg Merrilies, who should have been burned 
 with a tar-barrel twenty years since, for a harlot, thief, 
 witch, and gipsy." 
 
 " Are you sure it was she ? " said the Colonel, with 
 great interest. 
 
 " Sure, honoured sir ? Of a truth she is one not to be 
 forgotten — the like o' Meg Merrihes is not to be seen in 
 any land." 
 
 The Colonel paced the room rapidly, cogitating with 
 himself. " To send out to apprehend her — but it is too 
 distant to send to Mac-Morlan, and Sir Robert Hazle- 
 wood is a pompous coxcomb ; besides the chance of not 
 finding her upon the spot, or that the humour of silence 
 that seized her before may again return ; — no, I will not, 
 to save being thought a fool, neglect the course she points 
 eut. Many of her class set out by being impostors, and 
 end by becoming enthusiasts, or hold a kind of darkling 
 conduct between both lines, unconscious almost when they 
 are cheating themselves, or when imposing on others. 
 Well, my course is a plain one at any rate ; and if my 
 efforts are fruitless, it shall not be owing to over-jealousy 
 of my own character for wisdom." 
 
 With tliis he rang the bell, and ordering Barnes into 
 his private sitting-room, gave him some orders, with the 
 result of which the reader may be made hereafter 
 
GUT MANNERING. 203 
 
 acquainted. We must now take up another ad\'enture, 
 which is also to be woven into the story of this remark- 
 able day. 
 
 Charles Hazlewood had not ventured to make a visit 
 at Woodbourne during the absence of the Colonel. In- 
 deed, Mannering's whole behaviour had impressed upon 
 him an opinion that this would be disagreeable ; and such 
 was the ascendency which the successful soldier and ac- 
 complished gentleman had attained over the young man's 
 conduct, that in no respect would he have ventured to 
 offend him. He saw, or thought he saw, in Colonel Man- 
 nering's general conduct, an approbation of his attachment 
 to Miss Bertram. But then he saw still more plainly the 
 impropriety of any attempt at a private correspondence, 
 of which his parents could not be supposed to approve, 
 and he respected this barrier interposed betwixt them, 
 both on Mannering's account, and as he was the liberal 
 and zealous protector of Miss Bertram. " No," said he 
 to himself, " I will not endanger the comfort of my Lucy's 
 present retreat, until I can offer her a home of her own." 
 
 With this valorous resolution, which he mamtained, 
 although his horse, from constant habit, turned his head 
 down the avenue of Woodbourne, and although he him- 
 self passed the lodge twice every day, Charles Hazle- 
 wood withstood a strong inclination to ride down, just to 
 ask how the young ladies were, and whether he could be 
 of any service to them during Colonel Mannering's ab- 
 sence. But on the second occasion he felt the temptation 
 60 severe, that he resolved not to expose himself to it a 
 third time ; and, contenting himself with sending hopes 
 and inquiries, and so forth, to Woodbourne, he resolved 
 to make a visit long promised to a family at some distance, 
 and to return in such time as to be one of the eai'Hest 
 
204 TTAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 among Mannering's visitors who should congratulate his 
 safe arrival from his distant and hazardous expedition to 
 Edinburgh. Accordingly, he made out his visit, and 
 havino; arran^jed matters so as to be informed witliin a few 
 hours after Colonel Mannering reached home, he finally 
 resolved to take leave of the friends with whom he had 
 spent the intervening time, with the intention of dining at 
 AYoodbourne, where he was in a gi-eat measure domesti- 
 cated ; and this (for he thought much more deeply on the 
 subject than was necessary) would, he flattered himself, 
 appear a simple, natural, and easy mode of conducting 
 himself. 
 
 Fate, however, of which lovers make so many com- 
 plaints, was in this case unfavourable to Charles Hazle- 
 wood. His horse's shoes requu-ed an alteration, in 
 consequence of the fresh weather having decidedly com- 
 menced. The lady of the house where he was a visitor, 
 chose to indulge in her own room till a very late break- 
 fast hour. His friend also insisted on showing him a litter 
 of puppies, which his favourite pointer bitch had pro- 
 duced that mornmg. The colours had occasioned some 
 doubts about the paternity, — a weighty question of legit- 
 macy, to the decision of which Hazlewood's opinion was 
 called in as arbiter between his friend and his groom, and 
 which inferred in its consequences which of the Htter 
 should be drowned, which saved. Besides, the Laird 
 himself delayed our young lover's departure for a consid- 
 erable time, endeavouring, with long and superfluous 
 rhetoric, to insinuate to Sir Robert Hazlewood, through 
 the medium of his son, his own particular ideas respecting 
 the line of a meditated turnpike road. It is greatly to 
 the shame of our young lover's apprehension, that after 
 the tenth reiterated account of the matter, he could not 
 
GUT MANNERING. 205 
 
 ^ee the advantage to be obtained bj the proposed road 
 passing over the Lang-hirst, Windj-knowe, the Good- 
 house-park, Hailziecroft, and then crossing the river at 
 Simon's Pool, and so by the road to Kippletringan — and 
 the less eligible hne pointed out by the English surveyor, 
 which would go clear through the main enclosures at Ha- 
 zlewood, and cut within a mile, or nearly so, of the house 
 itself, destroying the privacy and pleasure, as his informer 
 contended, of the grounds. 
 
 In short, the adviser (whose actual interest was to have 
 the bridge built as near as possible to a farm of his own) 
 failed m every effort to attract young Hazle wood's atten- 
 tion, until he mentioned by chance that the proposed Hne 
 was favoured by " that fellow Glossin," who pretended to 
 take a lead in the county. On a sudden, young Ilazle- 
 wood became attentive and interested ; and having satis- 
 fied hunself which was the line that Glossin patronized, 
 assured his friend it should not be his fault if his father 
 did not countenance any other instead of that. But these 
 various interruptions consumed the morning. Hazlewood 
 got on horseback at least thi-ee hours later than he in- 
 tended, and, cursing fine ladies, pointers, puppies, and 
 turnpike acts of parliament, saw himself detained beyond 
 the time when he could, with propriety, intrude upon the 
 family at Woodbourne. 
 
 He had passed, therefore, the turn of the road which 
 led to that mansion, only edified by the distant appear- 
 ance of the blue smoke curling against the pale sky of the 
 winter evening, when he thought he beheld the Dominie 
 taking a footpath for the house through the woods. He 
 called after him, — ^but in vain ; for that honest gentleman, 
 never the most susceptible of extraneous impressions, had 
 just that moment parted from Meg Merrilies, and was 
 
206 WATERLET NOVELS. 
 
 too deeply wi-apped up in pondering upon her vaticina- 
 tions, to make any answer to Hazlewood's call. He was 
 therefore obliged to let him proceed without inquiry after 
 the health of the young ladies, or any other fishing ques- 
 tion, to which he might, by good chance, have had an 
 answer retui-ned wherein Miss Bertram's name might 
 have be^n mentioned. All cause for haste was now over, 
 — and, slackening the reins upon his horse's neck, he 
 permitted the animal to ascend at his o^vn leisure the 
 steep sandy track between two high banks, which, rising 
 to a considerable height, commanded, at length, an exten- 
 sive view of the neighbouring country. 
 
 Hazlewood was, however, so far from eagerly looking 
 forward to this prospect, though it had the recommenda- 
 tion that great part of the land was his father's, and must 
 necessarily be his own, that his head still turned back- 
 ward towards the chimneys of TVoodboume, although, at 
 every step his horse made, the difficulty of employing his 
 eyes in that direction became greater. From the reverie 
 in which he was sunk, he was suddenly roused by a voice 
 too harsh to be called female, yet too shrill for a man : — 
 " What's kept you on the road sae lang ? — maun ither 
 folk do your wark ? " 
 
 He looked up ; the spokeswoman was very tall, had a 
 voluminous handkerchief rolled round her head, grizzled 
 Lair flowing in elf-locks from beneath it, a long red cloak, 
 and a staff in her hand, headed with a sort of spear-point 
 —it was, in short, Meg Merrilies. Hazlewood had never 
 seen this remarkable figure before ; he di-ew up his reins 
 in astonishment at her appearance, and made a full stop. 
 " I think," continued she, " they that hae taen interest in 
 the house of EUangowan suld sleep nane this night ; three 
 men hae been seeking ye, and you are gaun hame to 
 
GUT MAJfXEKIXG. 207 
 
 sleep in your bed. — D'ye think if the lad-hairn fa's, the 
 sister will do weel ? Na, na ! " 
 
 "I don't understand you, good woman," said Hazle- 
 
 wood. " If you speak of Miss , I mean of any of 
 
 the late Ellangowan family, tell me what I can do for 
 them." 
 
 "Of the late Ellangowan family ! " she answeied with 
 great vehemence — " of the late Ellangowan family ! — 
 and when was there ever, or when will there ever be, a 
 family of Ellangowan, but bearing the gallant name of the 
 bauld Bertrams ? " 
 
 " But what do you mean, good woman ? " 
 
 " I am nae good woman — a' the country kens I am bad 
 eneugh, and baith they and I may be sorrow eneugh that 
 I am nae better. But I can do what good women canna 
 and daurna do — I can do what would freeze the blood o' 
 them that is bred in biggit wa's for naething but to bind 
 bairns' heads, and to hap them in the cradle. Hear me ! 
 The guard's drawn off at the Custom-house at Portanferry, 
 and it's brought up to Hazlewood-House by your father's 
 orders, because he thinks his house is to be attacked this 
 night by the smugglers ; there's naebody means to touch 
 his house ; he has gude blood and gentle blood — I say 
 little o' him for himsell, but there's naebody thinks him 
 worth meddling wi'. Send the horsemen back to their 
 post, cannily and quietly — see an they winna hae wark 
 the night — ay will they — the guns mil flash and the 
 swords will glitter in the braw moon." 
 
 " Good God ! what do you mean ? " said young Hazle- 
 wood ; " your words and manner would persuade me you 
 are mad, and yet there is a strange combination in what 
 you say." 
 
 " I am not mad ! " exclaimed the gipsy ; " I have 
 
208 WAVERLEY XOYELS. 
 
 been imprisoned for mad — scourged for mad — ^banished 
 for mad — but mad I am not. Hear ye, Charles Hazle- 
 wood of Hazlewood : d'ye bear malice against him that 
 wounded you ? " 
 
 " Xo, dame, God forbid ! My arm is quite well, and T 
 have always said the shot was discharged by accident I 
 should be glad to tell the young man so himself." 
 
 " Then do what I bid ye," answered Meg Merrihes, 
 " and ye'll do him mair gude than ever he did you ill ; for 
 if he was left to his ill-wishers he would be a bloody 
 corpse ere morn, or a banished man — ^but there's ane 
 abune a'. — Do as I bid you ; send back the soldiers to 
 Portanferry. There's nae mail' fear o' Hazlewood- House 
 than there's o' Cruffelfell." And she vanished with her 
 usual celerity of pace. 
 
 It would seem that the appearance of this female, and 
 the mixture of frenzy and enthusiasm in her manner, 
 seldom failed to produce the strongest impression upon 
 those whom she addi-essed. Her words, though wild, 
 were too plain and intelligible for actual madness, and yet 
 too vehement and extravagant for sober-minded commu- 
 nication. She seemed acting under the influence of an 
 imagination rather strongly excited than deranged; and 
 it is wonderful how palpably the difference, in such cases, 
 is impressed upon the mind of the auditor. This may 
 account for the attention with which her strange and 
 mysterious hints were heard and acted upon. It is cer- 
 tain, at least, that young Hazlewood was strongly im- 
 pressed by her sudden appearance and imperative tone. 
 He rode to Hazlewood at a brisk pace. It had been 
 dark for some time before he reached the house, and on 
 his arrival there, he saw a confirmation of what the sibyl 
 bad hinted. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 209 
 
 Thirty dragoon horses stood under a shed near the 
 offices, with their bridles hnked together ; — three or four 
 soldiers attended as a guard, while others stamped up and 
 down with their long broadswords and heavy boots in 
 front of the house. Hazlewood asked a non-commissioned 
 officer " from whence they came ? " 
 
 "From Portanferry." 
 
 " Had they left any guard there ? " 
 
 " No ; — they had been drawn off by order of Sir Robert 
 Hazlewood for defence of his house, against an attack 
 which was threatened by the smugglers." 
 
 Charles Hazlewood instantly went in quest of his 
 father, and, having paid his respects to him upon his 
 return, requested to know upon what account he had 
 thought it necessary to send for a militaiy escort. Sir 
 Robert assured his son in reply, " that from the informa- 
 tion, intelligence, and tidings, which had been communi- 
 cated to, and laid before him, he had the deepest reason 
 to beheve, credit, and be convinced, that a riotous assault 
 would that night be attempted and perpetrated against 
 Hazlewood-House, by a set of smugglers, gipsies, and 
 other desperadoes." 
 
 " And what, my dear sir," said his son, " should direct 
 the fury of such persons against ours rather than any 
 other house in the country ? " 
 
 "I should rather think, suppose, and be of opinion, 
 sir," answered Su- Robert, " with deference to your wis- 
 dom and experience, that on these occasions and times, 
 the vengeance of such persons is directed or levelled 
 against the most important and distinguished in point c£ 
 rank, talent, birth, and situation, who have checked, in- 
 terfered with, and discountenanced their unlawful and 
 illegal and criminal actions or deeds." 
 
 VOL. IV. 14 
 
210 TVAVERLEY XOVELS. 
 
 Young Hazlewood, who knew liis father's foible, 
 answered, '' that the cause of his surprise did not lie 
 where Sir Robert apprehended, but that he only won- 
 dered thej should think of attacking a house where there 
 were so many servants and where a signal to the neigh- 
 bouring tenants could call in such strong assistance ; " 
 and added, "that he doubted much whether the reputa- 
 tion of the family Avould not in some degree suiFer from 
 calling soldiers from their duty at the Custom-house to 
 protect them, as if they were not sufficiently strong to 
 defend themselves upon any ordinary occasion." He 
 even hinted, " that in case their house's enemies should 
 observe that this precaution had been taken unnecessarily, 
 there would be no end of their sarcasms." 
 
 Sir Robert Hazlewood was rather puzzled at this inti- 
 mation, for, like most dull men, he heartily hated and 
 feared ridicule. He gathered himself up, and looked 
 with a sort of pompous embarrassment, as if he wished 
 to be thought to despise the opinion of the public, which 
 in reality he dreaded. 
 
 " I really should have thought," he said, " that the 
 injury which had already been aimed at my house in 
 your person, being the next heir and representative of the 
 Hazlewood family, failing me — I should have thought and 
 believed, I say, that this would have justified me suffi- 
 ciently in the eyes of the most respectable and the greater 
 part of ihe people, for taking such precautions as are cal- 
 culated to prevent and impede a repetition of outrage." 
 
 " Really, sir," said Charles, " I must remind you of what 
 I have often said before, that I am positive the discharge 
 of the piece was accidental." 
 
 " Sir, it was not accidental," said his father, angrily :— 
 ^ but you will be wiser than your elders." 
 
GUT MANNERING. 211 
 
 *' Really, sir," replied Hazlewood, " in what so inti- 
 mately concerns myself" 
 
 " Sir, it does not concern you but in a very secondary 
 degree — that is, it does not concern you, as a giddy young 
 fellow, who takes pleasure in contradicting his father ; but 
 it concerns the country, sir ; and the county, sir ; and the 
 public, sir ; and the kingdom of Scotland, in so far as the 
 interest of the Hazlewood family, sir, is committed, and 
 interested, and put in peril, in, by, and thi'ough you, sir. 
 And the fellow is in safe custody, and Mr. Glossin 
 thinks " 
 
 " Mr. Glossin, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, the gentleman who has purchased Ellan- 
 gowan — you know who I mean, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the young man ; " but I should 
 hardly have expected to hear you quote such authority. 
 Why, this fellow — all the world knows him to be sordid, 
 mean, tricking; and I suspect him to be worse. And 
 you yourself, my dear sir, when did you call such a per- 
 son a gentleman in your life before ? " 
 
 " Why, Charles, I did not mean gentleman in the 
 precise sense and meaning, and restricted and proper use, 
 to which, no doubt, the phrase ought legitimately to be 
 confined ; but I meant to use it relatively, as marking 
 something of that state to which he has elevated and 
 raised himself — as designing, in short, a decent and 
 weallhy and estimable sort of a person." 
 
 " Allow me to ask, sh^," said Charles, " if it was by this 
 man's orders that the guard was drawn from Portan- 
 ferry ? " 
 
 " Sir," replied the Baronet, " I do apprehend that ]Mr. 
 Glossin would not presume to give orders, or even an 
 opinion, unless asked, in a matter in which Hazlewood- 
 
212 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 House and the House of Hazlewood — meaning by the 
 one this mansion-house of my family, and by the other, 
 typically, metaphorically, and parabolically, the family 
 itself — I say, then, where the House of Hazlewood, or 
 Hazlewood-House, was so immediately concerned." 
 
 " I presume, however, sir," said the son, " this Glossin 
 approved of the proposal ? " 
 
 " Sir," replied his father, " I thought it decent and right 
 and proper to consult him as the nearest magistrate, as 
 soon as report of the intended outrage reached my ears ; 
 and although he declined, out of deference and respect, 
 as became our relative situations, to concur in the order, 
 yet he did entirely approve of my arrangement." 
 
 At this moment a horse's feet were heard coming very 
 fast up the avenue. In a few minutes the door opened, 
 and j\Ii\ Mac-Morlan presented himself. — " I am under 
 great concern to intrude. Sir Robert, but " 
 
 " Give me leave, Mr. Mac-Morlan," said Sir Robert, 
 with a gracious flourish of welcome ; " this is no intrusion, 
 sir ; — for your situation as Sheriff-substitute calling upon 
 you to attend to the peace of the county, (and you, doubt- 
 less, feeling yourself particularly called upon to protect 
 Hazlewood- House,) you have an acknoAvledged, and ad- 
 mitted, and undeniable right, sir, to enter the house of the 
 first gentleman in Scotland, uninvited — always presuming 
 you to be called there by the duty of your oflice." 
 
 " It is, indeed, the duty of my office," said Mac-Morlan, 
 who waited wdth impatience an opportunity to speak^ 
 " that makes me an intruder." 
 
 " No intrusion ! " reiterated the Baronet, gracefully 
 waving his hand. 
 
 " But permit me to say, Sir Robert," said the Sheriff- 
 Bubstitute, " I do not c ^me with the purpose of remaining 
 
GUT MANNERIXGf. 213 
 
 here, but to recall these soldiers to Portanferry, and to 
 assure you that I will answer for the safety of your 
 house." 
 
 " To withdi-aw the guard from Hazlewood-House ! " 
 exclaimed the proprietor, in mingled displeasure and sur- 
 prise ; " and yov, wiU be answerable for it ! -A od pray, 
 who are you, si^, that I should take your security, and 
 caution, and pledge, official or personal, for the safety of 
 Hazlewood-Hou-'e ? — I think, sir, and beheve, sir, and am 
 of opinion, sir^ Ihat if any one of these family pictures 
 were deranojed, or destroyed, or injured, it would be 
 difficult for me •'£> make up the loss upon the guarantee 
 which yov, so rViigingly offer me." 
 
 "Id that ciae I shaU be sorry for it, Sir Robert," 
 answered th-j downright Mac-Morlan ; " but I presume I 
 may escape the pain of feeling my conduct the cause of 
 such irreparitble loss, as I can assure you there will be no 
 attempt upon Hazlewood-House whatever, and I have 
 received infoimation which induces me to suspect that 
 the rumour was put afloat merely in order to occasion the 
 removal of the soldiers from Portanferry. And under 
 this strong belief and conviction, I must exert my author- 
 ity as sheriff and cliief magistrate of police, to order the 
 whole, or greater part of them, back agam. I regret 
 much, that by my accidental absence a good deal of delay 
 has already taken place, and we shaU not now reach 
 Portanferry until it is late." 
 
 As Mr. Mac-Morlan was the superior magistrate, and 
 expressed himself peremptory in the purpose of acting 
 as such, the Baronet, though highly offended, could only 
 say, " Very well, sir, it is very well. Nay, sir, take them 
 all with you — I am far from desiring any to be left here, 
 «ir. We, sir, can protect ourselves, sir. But you will 
 
214 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 have the goodness to observe, sir, that you are acting oi* 
 your own proper risk, sir, and peril, sir, and responsibility, 
 sir, if anything shall happen or befall to Hazlewood- 
 House, sir, or the inhabitants, sir, or to the furniture and 
 paintings, sir." 
 
 " I am acting to the best of my judgment and infonna- 
 tion. Sir Robert," said Mac-Morlan, " and I must pray 
 of you to believe so, and to pardon me accordingly. I 
 beg you to observe it is no time for ceremony — it is 
 already very late." 
 
 But Sir Robert, without deigning to hsten to his apol- 
 ogies, immediately employed himself with much parade 
 in arming and arraying liis domestics. Charles Hazle- 
 wood longed to accompany the military, which were about 
 to depart for Portanferry, and which were now drawn up 
 and mounted by direction, and under the guidance of Mr. 
 Mac-Morlan, as the civil magistrate. But it would have 
 given just pain and offence to his father to have left him 
 at a moment when he conceived himself and his mansion- 
 house in danger. Young Hazlewood therefore gazed 
 from a window with suppressed regret and displeasure, 
 until he heard the officer give the word of command. 
 " From the right to the front, by files, m-a-rch. Leading 
 file, to the right wheel — Trot." — The whole party of 
 soldiers then getting into a sharp and uniform pace, wero 
 soon lost among the trees, and the noise of the hoofs died 
 speedily away in the distance. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 215 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 WV coulters and wi' forehammers 
 
 "We garr'd the bars bang merrily, 
 Until we came to the inner prison, 
 
 Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie. 
 
 Old Border Baixad. 
 
 We return to Portanferry and to Bertram and his 
 honest-hearted friend, whom we left most innocent inhabi- 
 tants of a place built for the guilty. The slumbers of the 
 farmer were as sound as it was possible. 
 . But Bertram's fii-st heavy sleep passed away long be- 
 fore midnight, nor could he again recover that state of 
 oblivion. Added to the uncertain and uncomfortable 
 state of his mind, his body felt feverish and oppressed. 
 This was chiefly owing to the close and confined air of 
 the small apartment in which they slept. After enduring 
 for some time the broiling and suffocating feeling attend- 
 ant upon such an atmosphere, he rose to endeavour to 
 open the window of the apartment, and thus to procure a 
 change of air. Alas ! the first trial reminded him that 
 he was in jail, and that the building being contrived for 
 security, not comfort, the means of procuring fresh air 
 were not left at the disposal of the wretched inhabitants. 
 Disappointed in this attempt, he stood by the un- 
 manageable window for some time. Little Wasp, though 
 oppressed with the fatigue of his journey on the preced- 
 ing day, crept out of bed after his master, and stood by 
 
216 WATEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 him rubbing his shaggy coat against his legs, and ex- 
 pressing, by a murmuring sound, the delight which he 
 felt at being restored to him. Thus accompanied, and 
 waiting until the feverish feeling which at present agi- 
 tated his blood should subside into a desire for warmth 
 and slumber, Bertram remained for some time looking 
 out upon the sea. 
 
 The tide was now nearly full, and dashed hoarse and 
 near, below the base of the building. Now and then a 
 lai'ge wave reached even the barrier or bulwark which 
 defended the foundation of the house, and was flung upon 
 it with greater force and noise than those which only 
 broke upon the sand. Far in the distance, \inder the 
 indistinct light of a hazy and often over-clouded moon, 
 the ocean rolled its multitudinous complication of waves, 
 crossing, bursting, and mingling vdih each other. 
 
 " A wild and dim spectacle," said Bertram to himself, 
 " like those crossing tides of fate which have tossed me 
 about the world from my infancy upwards ! When will 
 this uncertainty cease, and how soon shall I be permitted 
 to look out for a tranquil home, where I may cultivate in 
 quiet, and without dread and perplexity, those arts of 
 peace from which my cares have been hitherto so forcibly 
 diverted ? The ear of Fancy, it is said, can discover the 
 voice of sea-nymphs and tritons amid the bursting mur- 
 murs of the ocean ; would that I could do so, and that 
 some siren or Proteus would arise from these billows, to 
 unriddle for me the strange maze of fate in which I am 
 so deeply entangled ! — Happy friend ! " he said, looking 
 at the bed where Dinmont had deposited his bulky per- 
 son, " thy cares are confined to the narrow round of a 
 healthy and thriving occupation ! — thou canst lay them 
 aside at pleasure, and enjoy the deep repose of body 
 
GUY BIANNEKING. 217 
 
 and mirxd wliich wholesome labour has prepared for 
 thee ! " 
 
 At this moment his reflections were broken by Httle 
 Wasp, who, attempting to spring up against the window, 
 began to yelp and bark most furiously. The sounds 
 reached Dinmont's ears, but without dissipating the illu- 
 sioQ which had transported him from this wretched 
 apartment to the free air of his own green hiUs. " Hoy, 
 Yarrow, man ! — far yaud — far yaud ! " he muttered 
 between his teeth, imagining doubtless that he was calling 
 to his sheep-dog, and hounding him in shepherds' phrase 
 against some intruders on the grazing. The continued 
 barking of the terrier within was answered by the angry 
 challenge of the mastiff in the court-yard, which had for 
 a long time been silent, excepting only an occasional 
 short and deep note, uttered when the moon shone sud- 
 denly from among the clouds. Now, his clamour was 
 continued and furious, and seemed to be excited by some 
 disturbance distinct from the barking of Wasp, which had 
 first given him the alarm, and which, with much trouble, 
 his master had contrived to still into an angry note of 
 low growhng. 
 
 At last Bertram, whose attention was now fully 
 awakened, conceived that he saw a boat upon the sea, 
 and heard in good earnest the sound of oars and of 
 human voices mingling with the dash of the billows. 
 " Some benighted fishermen," he thought, " or perhaps 
 some of the desperate traders from the Isle of Man. 
 They are very hardy, however, to approach so near to 
 the Custom-house, where there must be sentinels. It is 
 a large boat, like a long-boat, and full of people ; per- 
 haps it belongs to the revenue ser^nce." Bertram was 
 confirmed in this last opinion, by observing that the boat 
 
218 TTAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 made for a little quay which ran into the sea bel ind the 
 Custom-house, and, jumping ashore one after another, the 
 crew, to the number of twenty hands, glided secretly up 
 a small lane which divided the Custom-house from the 
 Bridewell, and disappeared from his sight, leaving only 
 two persons to take care of the boat. 
 
 The dash of these men's oars at first, and latterly the 
 ^^uppressed sounds of their voices, had excited the wrath 
 of the wakeful sentinel in the court-yard, who now 
 exalted his deep voice into such a horrid and continuous 
 din, that it awakened his brute master, as savage a ban- 
 dog as himself. His cry from the window, of " How 
 now, Tearum, what's the matter, sir ? — down, d — n ye ! 
 down ! " produced no abatement of Tearum's vocifera- 
 tion, which in part prevented his master from hearing 
 the sounds of alarm which his ferocious vigilance was in 
 the act of challenging. But the mate of the two-legged 
 Cerberus was gifted with sharper ears than her husband. 
 She also was now at the mndow — " B — t ye, gae down 
 and let loose the dog," she said ; " they're sporting the 
 door of the Custom-house, and the auld sap at Hazlewood 
 House has ordered off the guard. But ye hae nae mair 
 heart than a cat." And down the amazon sallied to per- 
 form the task herself, while her helpmate, more jealous 
 of insurrection within doors, than of storm from without, 
 went from'ceU to cell to see "that the inhabitants of each 
 were cai-efully secured. 
 
 These latter sounds, with which we have made the 
 reader acquainted, had their origin in the front of the 
 liouse, and were consequently imperfectly heard by 
 Bertram, whose apartment, as we have already noticed, 
 looked from the back part of the building upon 
 the sea. He heai'd, however, a stir and tumult in the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 219 
 
 lious(}, which did not seem to accord -with the stern 
 seclusion of a prison at the hour of midnight, and, con- 
 necting them with the arrival of an armed boat at that 
 dead hour, could not but suppose that something extra- 
 ordinary was about to take place. In this behef he shook 
 Dinmont by the shoulder — " Eh ! — Ay ! — Oh ! — Ailie, 
 woman, it's no time to get up yet," groaned the sleeping 
 man of the mountains. More roughly shaken, however, 
 he gathered himself up, shook his ears, and asked, " In 
 the name of Providence, what's the matter ? " 
 
 " That I can't tell you," replied Bertram ; " but either 
 the place is on fire, or some extraordinary thing is about 
 to happen. Are you not sensible of a smell of fire ? Do 
 you not hear w^hat a noise there is of clashing doors 
 within the house, and of hoarse voices, murmurs, and 
 distant shouts on the outside ? Upon my word, I believe 
 something very extraordinary has taken place. — Get up, 
 for the love of Heaven, and let us be on our guard." 
 
 Dinmont rose at the idea of danger, as intrepid and 
 undismayed as any of his ancestors when the beacon-light 
 was kindled. " Od, Captain, this is a queer place ! — ■ 
 they winna let ye out in the day, and they winna let ye 
 sleep in the night. Deil, but it wad break my heart in a 
 fortnight. But, Lordsake, what a racket they're making 
 now! — Od, I wish we had some light. — Wasp — Wasp, 
 whisht, hinny — whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear 
 what they're doing. — Deil's in ye, will ye wdiisht ? " 
 
 They sought in vain among the embers the means of 
 lighting their candle, and the noise without still continued. 
 Dinmont in his turn had recourse to the window — " Lord- 
 sake, Captain ! come here. Od, they hae broken the 
 Custom-house ! " 
 
 Bertram hastened to the window, and plainly saw a 
 
220 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 miscellaneous crowd of smugglers, and blackguards of 
 different descriptions, some carrying lighted torches, 
 others bearing packages and barrels down the lane to the 
 boat that was lying at the quay, to which two or three 
 other fisher-boats were now brought round. The} A^ere 
 loading each of these m their turn, and one or two had 
 ab'eady put off to seaward. " This speaks for itself," 
 said Bertram ; " but I fear something worse has hap- 
 pened. Do you perceive a strong smell of smoke, or is 
 it my fancy ? " 
 
 " Fancy ? " answered Dinmont — " there's a reek like a 
 killogie. Od, if they burn the Custom-house, it will catch 
 here, and we'll lunt like a tai'-barrel a' thegither. — Eh ! 
 it wad be fearsome to be burnt alive for naething, like as 
 if ane had been a warlock ! — Mac-Guffog, hear ye ! " — ■ 
 roaring at the top of liis voice ; — " an ye wad ever hae 
 a haill bane in your skin, let's out, man ! let's out ! " 
 
 The fire began now to rise high, and thick clouds of 
 smoke rolled past the window at wliich Bertram and Din- 
 mont were stationed. Sometimes, as the wind pleased, 
 the dim shroud of vapour hid everything from their 
 sight ; sometimes, a red glare illuminated both land and 
 sea, and shone full on the stern and fierce figures, who, 
 wild with ferocious activity, were engaged in loading the 
 boats. The fire was at length triumphant, and spouted 
 in jets of flame out at each window of the burning build- 
 ing while huge flakes of flaming materials came driving 
 on the wind against the adjoining prison, and rolling a 
 dark canopy of smoke over all the neighbourliood. The 
 shouts of a furious mob resounded far and wide ; for the 
 smugglers, in their triumph, were joined by all the rabble 
 of the Httle town and neighbourhood, now aroused, and 
 in complete agitation, notwithstanding the lateness of the 
 
GUT MANNERING. 221 
 
 lioiir ; — some from interest in the free trade, and most 
 from the geneial love of mischief and tumult, natural to 
 a vulgar populace. 
 
 Bertram began to be seriously anxious for their fate. 
 There was no stir in the house ; it seemed as if the jailor 
 aad deserted his charge, and left the prison with its 
 viretched inhabitants to the mercy of the conflagration 
 \hich was spreading towards them. In the meantime a 
 >aew and fierce attack was heard upon the outer gate of 
 the Correction -ho use, which, battered with sledge-hammers 
 and crown, was soon forced. The keeper, as great a 
 cow^ii'd as a bully, with his more ferocious wife, had fled ; 
 theii servants readily surrendered the keys. The liber- 
 ated ^i.risoners, celebrating their deliverance with the 
 wilde i yells of joy, mingled among the mob which had 
 given ihem freedom. 
 
 In ihe midst of the confusion that ensued, three or 
 four o; ' the principal smugglers hurried to the apartment 
 of Bertram with lighted torches, and armed with cutlasses 
 and pistols. — " Der deyvil," said the leader, " here's our 
 mark ! " and two of them seized on Bertram ; but one 
 whispered in his ear, " Make no resistance till you are in 
 the street." The same individual found an instant to say 
 to Dinmont — " Follow your friend, and help when you 
 see the time come." 
 
 In the hurry of the moment, Dinmont obeyed and fol- 
 lowed close. The two smugglers dragged Bertram along 
 Ihe passage, down stairs, through the court-yard, now 
 illuminated by the glare of fire, and into the narrow street 
 to which the gate opened, where, in the confusion, the 
 gang were necessarily in some degree separated froiri 
 each other. A rapid noise, as of a body of horse ad- 
 rancing, seemed to add to the disturbance. " Hagel and 
 
222 " WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 welter ! what is that ? " said the leader ; " keep together, 
 kinder — look to the prisoner." But in spite of his charge, 
 the two who held Bertram were the last of the party. 
 
 The sounds and signs of violence were heard in front. 
 The press became furiously agitated, while some endeav- 
 oured to defend themselves, others to escape ; shots were 
 fired, and the gUttering broadswords of the dragoons 
 began to appear flashing above the heads of the rioters. 
 " Now," said the warning whisper of the man who held 
 Bertram's left arm, the same who had spoken before, 
 " shake off that fellow, and follow me." 
 
 Bertram, exerting his strength suddenly and effectually, 
 easily burst from the grasp of the man who held his 
 collar on the right side. The fellow attempted to draw a 
 pistol, but was prostrated by a blow of Dinmont's fist, 
 which an ox could hardly have received without the same 
 humiliation. " Follow me quick," said the friendly par- 
 tisan, and dived through a very narrow and dirty lane 
 which led from the main street. 
 
 No pursuit took place. The attention of the smugglers 
 had been otherwise and very disagreeably engaged by 
 the sudden appearance of Mac-Morlan and the party of 
 horse. The loud manly voice of the provincial magis- 
 trate was heard proclaiming the riot act, and charging 
 " all those unlawfully assembled to disperse . at their own 
 proper peril." This interruption would indeed have hap- 
 pened in time suificient to have prevented the attempt, 
 had not the magistrate received upon the road some false 
 information, which led him to think that the smugglers 
 were to land at the Bay of Ellangowan. Nearly two 
 hours were lost in consequence of this false intelligence, 
 which it may be no lack of charity to suppose that Glos- 
 sin, so deeply interested in the issue of that night's daiing 
 
GUT MANNERING. 222 
 
 attempt, had contrived to throw in Mac-Morlan's way, 
 availing himself of the knowledge that the soldiers had 
 left Hazlewood-House, which would soon reach an ear so 
 anxious as his. 
 
 In the meantime, Bertram followed his guide, and was 
 in his turn followed by Dinmont. The shouts of the 
 mob, the trampHng of the horses, the dropping pistol- 
 shots, sunk more and more faintly upon their ears ; when 
 at the end of the dark lane they found a post-chaise with 
 four horses. "Are you here, in God's name ? " said the 
 guide to the postilion who drove the leaders. 
 
 " Ay, troth am I," answered Jock Jabos, " and I wish 
 I were ony gate else." 
 
 " Open the carriage, then — You, gentlemen, get into 
 it ; — ^in a short time you'll be in a place of safety — and " 
 (to Bertram) " remember your promise to the gipsy 
 wife ! " 
 
 Bertram, resolving to be passive in the hands of a 
 person who had just rendered him such a distinguished 
 piece of service, got into the chaise as directed. Din- 
 mont followed ; Wasp, who had kept close by them, 
 sprung in at the same time, and the carriage drove off 
 very fast. " Have a care o' me," said Dinmont, " but 
 this is the queerest thing yet ! — Od, I trust they'll no 
 coup us — and then what's to come o' Dumple ! I would 
 rather be on his back than in the Deuke's coach, God 
 bless him." 
 
 Bertram observed, that they could not go at that rapid 
 rate to any very great distance without changing horses, 
 and that they might insist upon remaining till day-light 
 at the first inn they stopped at, or at least upon being 
 made acquainted with the purpose and termination of 
 their journey, and Mr. Dinmont might there give direc- 
 
224 -WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 tions about his faithful horse, which would probably be 
 safe at the stables where he had left him. — " Aweel, 
 aweel, e'en sae be it for Dandle. — Od, if we were ance 
 out o' this trindling kist o' a thing, I am thinking they 
 wad find it hard wark to gar us gang ony gate but where 
 we liked oursells." 
 
 While he thus spoke, the carriage making a sudden 
 turn, showed them, thi'ough the left window, the village 
 at some distance, still widely beaconed by the fire, which, 
 having reached a storehouse wherein spirits were depos- 
 ited, now rose high into the air, a wavering column of 
 brilliant light. They had not long time to admire this 
 spectacle, for another turn of the road carried them into 
 a close lane between plantations, through which the chaise 
 proceeded in nearly total darkness, but with unabated 
 speed. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter, 
 And aye the ale was growing better. 
 
 Tam o' Shanteh. 
 
 We must now return to Woodbourne, which, it maj 
 be remembered, we left just after the Colonel had given 
 some directions to his confidential servant. When he 
 returned, his absence of mind, and an unusual expression 
 of thought and anxiety upon his features, struck the 
 ladies whom he joined in the drawing-room. Mannering 
 was not, however, a man to be questioned, even by those 
 whom he most loved, upon the cause of the mental 
 agitation which these^ signs expressed. The hour of tea 
 arrived, and the party were partaking of that refreshment 
 in silence, when a carriage drove up to the door, and the 
 bell announced the arrival of a visitor. " Surely," said 
 Mannering, " it is too soon by some hours." — " 
 
 There was a short pause, when Barnes, opening the 
 door of the saloon, announced Mr. Pleydell. In marched 
 the lawyer, whose well-brushed black coat, and well- 
 powdered wig, together with his point ruffles, brown silk 
 stockings, highly varnished shoes, and gold buckles, ex- 
 hibited the pains which the old gentleman had taken to 
 prepare his person for the ladies' society. He was wel- 
 comed by Mannering with a hearty shake by the hand— 
 " The very man I wished to see at this moment ! " 
 
 VOL. IV. 15 
 
226 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Yes," said the counsellor, " I told you I would take 
 the first opportunity ; so I have ventured to leave the 
 Court for a week in session time — no common sacrifice — 
 but I had a notion I could be useful, and I was to attend 
 a proof here about the same time. But will you not 
 introduce me to the young ladies ? — Ah ! there is one [ 
 should have known at once, from her family likeness ! 
 Miss Lucy Bertram, my love, I am most happy to soe 
 you." — And he folded her in his arms, and gave her a 
 hearty kiss on each side of the face, to which Lucy 
 submitted in blushino^ resignation. 
 
 " On n'arrete pas dans un si heau chemin^' continued 
 the gay old gentleman, and, as the Colonel presented him 
 to Julia, took the same liberty with that fair lady's cheek. 
 Julia laughed, coloured, and disengaged herself. " I beg 
 a thousand pardons," said the lawyer, with a bow which 
 was not at all professionally awkward ; — " age and old 
 fashions give privileges, and I can hardly say whether I 
 am most sorry just now at being too well entitled to claim 
 them at all, or happy in having such an opportunity to 
 exercise them so agreeably." 
 
 " Upon my word, sir," said Miss Mannering, laughing, 
 " if you make such flattering apologies, we shall begin to 
 doubt whether we can admit you to shelter yourself 
 under your alleged qualifications." 
 
 " I can assure you, Julia," said the Colonel, " you are 
 perfectly right ; my friend the counsellor is a dangerous 
 person ; the last time I had the pleasure of seeing him, 
 he was closeted with a fair lady, who had granted him a 
 tete-d-tete at eight in the morning." 
 
 " Ay, but Colonel," said the counsellor, " you should 
 add, I was more indebted to my chocolate than my charms 
 for so distinguished a favour, from a person of such pro- 
 priety of demeanour as Mrs. Rebecca." 
 
GUY MANNERI^^G. 227 
 
 " And tKat should remind me, IMr. Pleydell," said JuKa^ 
 " to oflfer you tea — that is, supposing you have dined." 
 
 "Anything, Miss Mannering, from your hands," an- 
 swered tlie gallant jurisconsult ; " yes, I have dined — 
 that 13 to say, as people dine at a Scotch inn." 
 
 " And that is indifferently enough," said the Colonel, 
 with his hand upon the bell-handle ; — " give me leave to 
 order something." 
 
 " Why, to say truth," replied Mr. Pleydell, " I had rather 
 not ; I have been inquiring into that matter, for you must 
 know I stopped an instant below to pull off my boot-hose, 
 * a ^/orld too wide for my shrunk shanks,' " glancing down 
 with some complacency upon limbs which looked very 
 well for his time of life, " and I had some conversation 
 with your Barnes, and a very intelligent person whom I 
 presume to be the housekeeper ; and it was settled among 
 us — tota re perspecta — ^I beg Miss Mannering's pardon 
 for my Latin — that the old lady should add to your light 
 family-supper the more substantial refreshment of a brace 
 of wild-ducks. I told her (always under deep submis- 
 sion) my poor thoughts about the sauce, which concurred 
 exactly with her own ; and, if you please, I would rather 
 wait till they are ready before eating anything solid." 
 
 " And we will anticipate our usual hour of supper," 
 said the Colonel. 
 
 " With all my heart," said Pleydell, " providing I do 
 not lose the ladies' company a moment the sooner. I am 
 of counsel with my old friend Burnet,* I love the coena, 
 
 * The Burnet, whose taste for the evening meal of the ancients is 
 quoted by Mr. Pleydell, was the celebrated metaphysician and excel- 
 lent man, Lord ]\Ionboddo, whose coence will not be soon forgotten by 
 those who have shared his classic hospitality. As a Scottish Judge, 
 he took the designation of his family estate. His philosopny, as is 
 well known, was of a fancifi J and somewhat fantastic character ; buft 
 
228 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the supper of tlie ancients, the pleasant meal and social 
 glass that wash out of one's mind the cobwebs that busi- 
 ness or gloom have been spinning in our brains all day." 
 
 The vivacity of Mr. Pleydell's look and manner, and 
 the quietness with which he made himself at home on the 
 subject of his httle epicurean comforts, amused the ladies, 
 but particularly J^iiss Mannering, who immediately gave 
 the counsellor a great deal of flattering attention ; and 
 more pretty things were said on both sides during the 
 service of the tea-table than we have leisure to repeat. 
 
 As soon as this was over, Mannering led the counsellor 
 by the arm into a small study which opened from the 
 saloon, and where, according to the custom of the family, 
 there were always lights and a good fii'e in the evening. 
 
 " I see," said Mr. Pleydell, " you have got something 
 to tell me about the EUangowan business — Is it terrestrial 
 or celestial ? What says my military Albumazar ? Have 
 you calculated the course of futurity ? have you consulted 
 your Ephemerides, your Almochoden, your Almuten ? " 
 . " No, truly, counsellor," replied Mannering — " you are 
 the only Ptolemy I intend to resort to upon the present 
 occasion. A second Prospero, I have broken my staff, 
 
 his learning was deep, and he was possessed of a singular power of 
 eloquence, which reminded the hearer of the os roiundum of the Grove 
 or Academe. Enthusiastically partial to classic habits, his enter- 
 tainments were always given in the evening, when there was a circu- 
 lation of exceUeut Bourdeaux, in flasks garlanded with roses, which 
 were also strewed on the table after the manner of Horace. The best 
 society, whether in respect of rank or literary distinction, was always 
 to be found in St. John's Street, Canongate. The conversation of the 
 ex^.ellent old man, his high, gentleman-like, and chivalrous sph'it, the 
 learaing and wit with which he defended his fanciful paradoxes, and 
 the kind and liberal spirit of his hospitality, must render these nodes 
 coenceque dear to all who, like the author, (though then young,) had the 
 honour of sitting at his board. 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 229 
 
 and drowned my book far beyond plummet depth. But 
 I have great news notwithstanding. Meg Merrilies, oui 
 Egyptian sibyl, has appeared to the Dominie this very 
 day, and, as I conjecture, has frightened the honest man 
 not a little." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Ay, and she has done me the honour to open a cor- 
 respondence with me, supposing me to be as deep in 
 astrological mysteries as when we first met. Here is her 
 scroll, delivered to me by the Dominie." 
 
 Pleydell put on his spectacles. — "A vile greasy scrawl, 
 indeed — ^and the letters are uncial or semi-uncial, as 
 somebody calls your large text hand, and in size and 
 perpendicularity resemble the ribs of a roasted pig — I 
 can hardly make it out." 
 
 " Read aloud," said Mannering. 
 
 " I will try," answered the lawyer, " ' You are a good 
 seeker, but a hadjinder ; you set yourself to prop a falling 
 .house, hut had a gey guess it would rise again. Lend your 
 hand to the warh that's near, as you lent your ee to the 
 weird that was far. Have a carriage this night hy ten 
 o'clock, at the end of the Crooked Dyhes at Portanferry, 
 and let it bring the folk to Woodbourne that shall ask them, 
 if they be there in God's name.' Stay, here follows 
 some poetry — 
 
 ' Darh shall he light. 
 And wrong done to right. 
 When Bertram'' s right and Bertrams might 
 Shall meet on Ellangowan's height.'' 
 
 A most mystic epistle truly, and closes in a vein of poetry 
 worthy of the Cumagan sibyl. — And what have you 
 done?" 
 
 "Why," said Mannermg, rather reluctantly, "I was 
 
230 AVAVERLEY XOVELS. 
 
 loth to risk anj opportunity of throwing light on this 
 business. The womim is perhaps crazed, • and these 
 effusions may arise only from visions of her imagination ; 
 — but you were of opinion that she knew more of that 
 strange story than she ever told." 
 
 " And so," said Pleydell, " you sent a carriage to the 
 place named ? " 
 
 " You w^ill laugh at me if I own I did," rephed the. 
 Colonel. 
 
 " Who, I ? " replied the advocate — " No, truly ; I thmk 
 it was the wisest thing you could do." 
 
 " Yes," answered Mannering, well pleased to have 
 escaped the ridicule he apprehended ; " you know^ the 
 worst is paying the chaise-hire ; — I sent a post-chaise and 
 four from Kippletringan, with instructions corresponding 
 to the letter. The horses will have a long and cold 
 station on the out-posts to-night if our intelligence be 
 false." 
 
 "Ay, but I think it will prove otherwise," said the 
 law^yer. " This ^voman has played a part till she believes 
 it ; or, if she be a thorough-paced impostor, without a 
 single grain of self-delusion to qualify her knavery, still 
 she may think herself bound to act in character. This I 
 know, that I could get nothing out of her by the common 
 modes of interrogation, and the wisest thing we can do is 
 to give her an opportunity of making the discovery her 
 owm way. And now have you more to say, or shall we 
 go to the ladies ? " 
 
 " Why, my mind is uncommonly agitated," answered 
 the Colonel, " and — but I really have no more to say — 
 only I shall count the minutes till the carriage returns ; 
 but you cannot be expected to be so anxious." 
 
 " Why, no — use is all in all," said the more experienced 
 
GUY MANNERING. 231 
 
 lawj er. " I am much interested, certainly, but I think I 
 shall be able to survive the interval, if the ladies will 
 afford us some music." 
 
 "And with the assistance of the wild-ducks by and 
 by ? " suggested Mannering. 
 
 " True, Colonel ; a lawyer's anxiety about the fate of 
 the most interesting cause has seldom spoiled either his 
 sleep or digestion.* And jet I shall be very eager to 
 hear the rattle of these wheels on their return, notwith- 
 standing." 
 
 So saying, he rose and led the way into the next room, 
 where Miss Mannering, at his request, took her seat at 
 the harpsichord.' Lucy Bertram, who sung her native 
 melodies very sweetly, was accompanied by her friend 
 upon the instrument, and Julia afterwards performed 
 some of Scarlatti's sonatas with great brilliancy. The 
 old lawyer, scraping a little upon the violoncello, and 
 being a member of the gentlemen's concert in Edinburgh, 
 was so greatly delighted with this mode of spending the 
 evening, that I doubt if he once thought of the wild- 
 ducks until Barnes informed the company that supper 
 was ready. 
 
 "Tell Mrs. Allan to have something in readiness," 
 said the Colonel — "I expect — that is, I hope — perhaps 
 
 * It is probably true, as observed by Counsellor Pleydell, that a 
 lawyer's anxiety about Ms case, supposing him to have been some 
 time in practice will seldom disturb his rest or digestion. Clients will, 
 however, sometimes fondly entertain a different opinion. I was told 
 by an excellent judge, now no more, of a country gentleman, who, 
 addressing his leading counsel, my informer, then an advocate in great 
 practice, on the morning of the day on which the case was to be 
 plea led, said, with singular bonhomie, " Weel, my Lord," 'the counsel 
 was Lord Advocate,) "the awful day is come at last. 1 have nae 
 been able to sleep a wink for thinking of it — nor, I dare say, your 
 i-ordship either." 
 
232 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Bome company may be here to-night ; and let the men sit 
 up, and do not lock the upper gate on the lawn until 1 
 desire you." 
 
 " Lord, sir," said Julia, " whom can you possibly expect 
 to-night ? " 
 
 " Why, some persons, strangers to me, talked of calling 
 in the evening on business," answered her father, not 
 without embarrassment, for he would little have brooked 
 a disappointment which might have thi'own ridicule on 
 his judgment ; " it is quite uncertain." 
 
 "Well, we shall not pardon them for disturbing our 
 party," said Julia, " unless they bring as much good 
 humour, and as susceptible hearts, as my friend and 
 admu'er — for so he has dubbed himself — Mr. Pleydell." 
 
 " Ah, IMiss Julia," said Pleydell, offering his arm with 
 an air of gallantry to conduct her into the eating-room, 
 " the time has been — when I returned from Utrecht in 
 the year 1738 "— 
 
 " Pray, don't talk of it," answered the young lady — 
 "we like you much better as you are. Utrecht, in 
 Heaven's name ! — I dare say you have spent all the 
 intervening years in getting rid so completely of the 
 effects of your Dutch education." 
 
 " forgive me. Miss Mannering," said the lawyer ; 
 " the Dutch are a much more accomplished people in 
 point of gallantry than their volatile neighbours are 
 willing to admit. They are constant as clock-work in 
 their attentions." 
 
 " I should tire of that," said Julia. 
 
 " Impertui'bable in their good temper," continued 
 rieydeU. 
 
 " Worse and worse," said the young lady. 
 
 " And then," said the old beau gargon, " although for 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 233 
 
 six times tkree hundred and sixtj-five days your swain 
 has placed the capuchin round your neck, and the stove 
 under your feet, and driven your little sledge upon the 
 ice in the winter, and your cabriole tlirough the dust in 
 summer, you may dismiss him at once, without reason or 
 apology, upon the two thousand one hundred and ninetieth 
 day, which, according to my hasty calculation, and without 
 reckoning leap-years, will complete the cycle of the sup- 
 posed adoration, and that without your amiable feelings 
 having the slightest occasion to be alarmed for the con- 
 sequences to those of Mynheer." 
 
 " Well," replied Julia, " that last is truly a Dutch 
 recommendation, Mr. Pleydell— crystal and hearts would 
 lose all their merit in the world, if it were not for their 
 fragility." 
 
 " Why, upon that point of the argument. Miss Man- 
 nering, it is as difficult to find a heart that will break, as 
 a glass that will not ; and for that reason I would press 
 the value of mine own — were it not that I see Mr. 
 Sampson's eyes have been closed, and his hands clasped 
 for some time, attending the end of our conference to 
 begin the grace — And, to say the truth, the appearance 
 of the wild-ducks is very appetizing." So saying, the 
 worthy counsellor sat himself to table, and laid aside his 
 gallantry for awhile, to do honour to the good things 
 placed before liim. Nothing further is recorded of him 
 for some time, excepting an observation that the ducks 
 were roasted to a single turn, and that Mrs. Allan's sauce, 
 of claret, lemon, and cayenne, was beyond praise. 
 
 '^ I see," said INiiss Mannering, " I have a formidable 
 rival in Mr. Pleydell's favour, even on the very first 
 night of his avowed admiration." 
 
 " Pardon me, my fair lady," answered the counsellor,— 
 
234 ^^^AVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " your avowed rigour alone has induced me to commit 
 the solecism of eating a good supper in your presence ; 
 how shall I support your frowns without reinforcing my 
 strength ? Upon the same principle, and no other, I will 
 ask permission to drink wine with you." 
 
 " This is the fashion of Utrecht also, I suppose, IMi*. 
 Pleydell ? " 
 
 " Forgive me, madam," answered the counsellor ; " the 
 French themselves, the patterns of all that is gallant, 
 term their tavern-keepers restaurateurs, alluding, doubt- 
 less, to the relief they afford to the disconsolate lover, 
 when bowed down to the earth by his mistress's severity. 
 My own case requires so much relief, that I must trouble 
 you for that other wing, Mr. Sampson, without prejudice 
 to my afterwards applying to Miss Bertram for a tart ; — 
 be pleased to tear the wing, sir, instead of cutting it off — 
 ]Mi\ Barnes wiU assist you, ]VIi\ Sampson, — thank you, 
 sir, — and, Mr. Barnes, a glass of ale, if you please." 
 
 While the old gentleman, pleased with ]\Iiss Manner- 
 ing's liveliness and attention, rattled away for her amuse- 
 ment and his own, the impatience of Colonel Mannering 
 began to exceed all bounds. He declined sitting down at 
 table, under pretence that he never ate supper; and 
 traversed the paiiour, in which they were, with hasty and 
 impatient steps, now throwing up the window to gaze 
 upon the dark lawn, now listening for the remote sound 
 of the carriage advancing up the avenue. At length, in 
 a feeling of uncontrollable impatience, he left the room, 
 took his hat and cloak, and pursued his walk up the 
 avenue, as if his so doing would hasten the approach of 
 those whom he desired to see. 
 
 " I really wish," said Miss Bertram, " Colonel Man- 
 nering would not venture out after night-fall. You 
 
GUY MANNERING. 235 
 
 must have heard, Mr. Pleydell, what a cruel fright we 
 had ? " 
 
 " Oh, with the smugglers ? " rephed the advocate. 
 *•' They are old friends of mine ; — I was the means of 
 bringing some of them to justice a long time since, when 
 sheriff of this county." 
 
 " And then the alarm we had immediately afterwards," 
 added Miss Bertram, " from the vengeance of one of 
 these wretches." 
 
 " When young Hazlewood was hurt — I heard of that 
 too." 
 
 " Imagine, my dear Mr. Pleydell," continued Lucy, 
 " how much Miss Mannering and I were alarmed, Avhen 
 a ruffian, equally dreadful for his great strength, and the 
 sternness of his features, rushed out upon us ! " 
 
 " You must know, Mr. Pleydell," said Julia, unable to 
 suppress her resentment at this undesigned aspersion of 
 her admirer, " that young Hazlewood is so handsome in 
 the eyes of the young ladies of this country, that they 
 think every person shocking who comes near him." 
 
 " Oho ! " thought Pleydell, who was by profession an 
 observer of tones and gestures, " there's something wrong 
 here between my young friends. Well, Miss Manner- 
 ing, I have not seen young Hazlewood since he was a 
 boy, so the ladies may be perfectly right ; but I can as- 
 sure you, in spite of your scorn, that if you want to 
 see handsome men you must go to Holland ; the prettiest 
 fellow I ever saw was a Dutchman, in spite of his being 
 called Vanbost, or Vanbuster, or some such barbarous 
 name. He will not be quite so handsome now, to be 
 sure." 
 
 It was now Julia's turn to look a little out of counte- 
 nance at the chance hit of her learned admirer, but that 
 
236 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 instant the Colonel entered the room. "I can hear 
 nothing of them yet," he said ; " still, however, we will 
 not separate. — Where is Dominie Sampson ? " 
 
 " Here, honoured sir." 
 
 " "What is that book you hold in your hand, Mr. Samp- 
 son?" 
 
 '• It's even the learned De Lyra, sir — I would crave 
 his honour Mr. Pleydell's judgment, always with his best 
 leisure, to expound a disputed passage." 
 
 " I am not in the vein, Mr. Sampson," answered Pley- 
 dell ; here's metal more attractive — I do not despair to 
 engage these two young ladies in a glee or a catch, 
 wherein I, even I myself, will adventure myself for the 
 bass part. Hang De Lyra, man ; keep him for a fitter 
 season." 
 
 The disappointed Dominie shut his ponderous tome, 
 much marvelling in his mind how a person possessed of 
 the lawyer's erudition, could give his mind to these friv- 
 olous toys. But the counsellor, indifferent to the high 
 character for learning which he was trifling away, filled 
 himself a large glass of Burgundy, and after preluding a 
 little with a voice somewhat the worse for the wear, gave 
 the ladies a courageous invitation to join in " We be three 
 poor Mariners," and accomplished his ovm. part therein 
 with great eclat. 
 
 " Are you not withering your roses with sitting up so 
 late, my young ladies ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " Not a bit, sir," answered Julia ; " your friend Mr, 
 Pleydell, threatens to become a pupil of IVIr. Sampson's 
 to-morrow, so we must make the most of our conquest 
 to-night.'' 
 
 This led to another musical trial of skill, and that to ■ 
 lively conversation. At length, when the solitary sound 
 
OUT MANNERING. 
 
 237 
 
 of one o'clock had long since resounded on llie ebon ear 
 of night, and the next signal of the advance of time was 
 close approaching, Mannering, whose impatience had long 
 subsided into disappointment and despair, looked at his 
 watch, and said, " We must now give them up " — when 
 at that instant — But what then befeU will require a 
 separate chapter. 
 
238 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Justice. This does indeed confirm each circamstanoe 
 
 The gipsy told 
 
 No orphan, m t without a friend art thou 
 
 /am thy father, Aere'5 thy mother, there 
 
 Thy uncle This thy first cousin, and these 
 
 Are all thy near relations ! 
 
 The Ceitio. 
 
 As Mannering replaced his watch, he heard a distant 
 and hollow sound — " It is a carriage for certain — no, it 
 is but the sound of the wind among the leafless trees. 
 Do come to the window, Mr. Pleydell." The counsellor, 
 who, with his large silk handkerchief in his hand, was 
 expatiating away to Juha upon some subject which he 
 thought was interesting, obeyed the summons — first, how- 
 ever, wrapping the handkerchief round his neck by way 
 of precaution against the cold air. The sound of wheels 
 became now very perceptible, and Pleydell, as if he had 
 reserved all his curiosity till that moment, ran out to the 
 hall. The Colonel rung for Barnes to desire that the 
 persons who came in the carriage might be shown into a 
 separate room, being altogether uncertain whom it might 
 contain. It stopped, however, at the door, before his pur- 
 pose could be fully explained. A moment after Mr. 
 Pleydell called out, " Here's our Liddesdale friend, I 
 protest, with a strapping young fellow of the same cali- 
 bre." His voice arrested Dinmont, who recognised him 
 
GUY MANNEKING. 239 
 
 with equal surprise and pleasure. "Od, if it's jour 
 honour, we'll a' be as right and tight as thack and rape 
 can make us." * 
 
 But while the farmer stopped to make his bow, Ber- 
 tram, dizzied with the sudden glare of light, and be- 
 wildej-ed with the circumstances of his situation, almost 
 unconsciously entered the open door of the parlour, and 
 confronted the Colonel, who was just advancing towards 
 it. The strong light of the apartment left no doubt of 
 his identity, and he himself was as much confounded with 
 the appearance of those to whom he so unexpectedly 
 presented himself, as they were by the sight of so utterly 
 unlooked-for an object. It must be remembered that 
 each individual present had their own peculiar reasons for 
 looking with terror upon what seemed at first sight a 
 spectral apparition. Mannering saw before him the man 
 whom he supposed he had killed in India ; Juha beheld 
 her lover in a most pecuHar and hazardous situation ; 
 and Lucy Bertram at once knew the person who had 
 fired upon young Hazlewood. Bertram, who interpreted 
 the fixed and motionless astonishment of the Colonel 
 into displeasure at his intrusion, hastened to say that it 
 was involuntary, since he had been hurried hither with- 
 out even knowing whither he was to be transported. 
 
 " Mr. Brown, I believe ? " said Colonel Mannering. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the young man, modestly, but with 
 firmness, " the same you knew in India ; and who ven- 
 tures to hope, that what you did then know of him is not 
 such as should prevent his requesting you would favour 
 him with your attestation to his character, as a gentle- 
 man and man of honour." 
 
 * When a farmer's crop is got safely into the barn-yard, it is said to 
 be made fast with thack and rape. — Anglice, straw and rope. 
 
240 WAYEELET NOVELS. 
 
 " Mr. Brown — I have been seldom — ^never — so much 
 surprised — certainly, sir, in whatever passed between us, 
 you have a right to command my favourable testimony." 
 
 At this critical moment entered the counsellor and 
 Dinmont. The former beheld, to his astonishment, the 
 Colonel but just recovering from his first surprise, Lucy 
 Bertram ready to faint with terror, and IVIiss Mannering 
 in an agony of doubt and apprehension, which she in vain 
 endeavoured to disguise or suppress. " What is the 
 meaning of all this ? " said he ; " has this young fellow 
 brought the Gorgon's head in his hand ? — let me look at 
 him. — By Heaven ! " he muttered to himself, " the very 
 image of old Ellangowan ! — Yes, the same manly form 
 and handsome features, but with a world of more intel- 
 ligence in the face — Yes ! — ^the witch has kept her word.'* 
 Then instantly passing to Lucy, " Look at that man, 
 ]\Iiss Bertram, my dear ; have you never seen any one 
 Hke him ? " 
 
 Lucy had only ventured one glance at this object of 
 terror, by which, however, from his remarkable height 
 and appearance, she at once recognised the supposed as- 
 sassin of young Hazlewood — a conviction which excluded, 
 of course, the more favourable association of ideas Avhich 
 might have occurred on a closer view. — " Don't ask me 
 about him, sir," said she, turning away her eyes ; " send 
 him away, for heaven's sake ! we shall all be mur- 
 dered ! " 
 
 " Murdered ! where's the poker ? " said the advocate 
 in some alarm. " But nonsense ! — we are three men be- 
 sides the servants, and there is honest Liddesdale, worth 
 half-a-dozen to boot — we have the major vis upon our 
 side. However, here, my friend Dandie — Davie — what 
 do they call you ? — keep between that fellow and us for 
 the protection of the ladies." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 241 
 
 " Lof d ! Mr. Pleydell," said the astonished farmer, 
 ** that's Captain Brown ; do ye no ken the Captain ? " 
 
 " Nay, if he's a friend of yours, we may be safe 
 enough," answered Pleydell ; " but keep near him." 
 
 All this passed with such rapidity, that it w^as over be- 
 fore the Dominie had recovered himself from a fit of 
 absence, shut the book which he had been studying in a 
 corner, and advancing to obtain a sight of the strangers, 
 exclaimed at once, upon beholding Bertram, " If the grave 
 can give up the dead, tliat is my dear and honoured 
 master ! " 
 
 " We're right after all, by Heaven ! I was sure I was 
 right," said the lawyer ; — " he is the very image of his 
 father. — Come, Colonel, what do you think of, that you 
 do not bid your guest welcome ? I think — I believe — I 
 trust we're right — never saw such a likeness — But pa- 
 tience — Dominie, say not a word.- — Sit down, young gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir ; — if I am, as I understand, in Colo- 
 nel Mannering's house, I should wish first to know if my 
 accidental appearance here gives offence, or if I am wel- 
 come ? " 
 
 Mannering instantly made an effort. " Welcome ? — 
 most certainly, especially if you can point out how I can 
 serve you. I believe I may have some wrongs to repair 
 towards you — I have often suspected so ; but your sudden 
 and unexpected appearance, connected wdth painful recol- 
 lections, prevented my saying at first, as I now say, that 
 whatever has procured me the honour of this visit, it is 
 an acceptable one." 
 
 Bertram bowed with an air of distant, yet . civil ac- 
 knowledgment, to the grave courtesy of Mannering. 
 
 " Julia, my love, you had better retire. — Mr. Brown, 
 
 VOL. IV. 16 
 
242 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 you will excuse my daughter; there are circumstances 
 which I perceive rush upon her recollection." 
 
 Miss Mannering rose and retired accordingly ; jet, as 
 she passed Bertram, could not suppress the words, " In- 
 fatuated ! a second time ! " but so pronounced as to be 
 heard by him alone. Miss Bertram accompanied her 
 friend, much surprised, but without venturing a second 
 glance at the object of her terror. Some mistake she 
 saw there was, and was unwilling to increase it by de- 
 nouncing the stranger as an assassin. He was known, 
 she saw, to the Colonel, and received as a gentleman : 
 certainly he either was not the person she suspected, or 
 Hazlewood was right in supposing the shot accidental. 
 
 The remaining part of the company would have forined 
 no bad group for a skilful painter. Each was too much 
 embarrassed with his own sensations to observe those of 
 the others. Bertram most unexpectedly found himself in 
 the house of one whom he was alternately disposed to dis- 
 like as his personal enemy, and to respect as the father 
 of Julia; Mannering was struggling between his high 
 sense of courtesy and hospitality, his joy at finding him- 
 self relieved from the guilt of having shed life in a pri- 
 vate quarrel, and the former feelings of dislike and 
 prejudice, which revived in his haughty mind at the sight 
 of the object against whom he had entertained them ; 
 Sampson, supporting his shaking limbs by leaning on the 
 back of a chair, fixed his eyes upon Bertram, with a 
 staring expression of nervous anxiety, which convulsed 
 his whole visage ; Dinmont, enveloped in his loose shaggy 
 great-coat, and resembling a huge bear erect upon his 
 hinder legs, stared on the whole scene with great round 
 eyes that witnessed his amazement. 
 
 The counsellor alone was in his element : shrewd, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 243 
 
 prompt, and active, he already calculatevl tlie pi-ospect of 
 brilliant success in a strange, eventful, and mysterious 
 law-suit, — and no young monarch, flushed with hopes, 
 and at the head of a gallant army, could experience more 
 glee when taking the field on his first campaign. He 
 bustled about with great energy, and took the arrange- 
 ment of the'whole explanation upon himself. 
 
 " Come, come, gentlemen, sit down ; this is all in my 
 province — ^you must let me arrange it for you. Sit down, 
 my dear Colonel, and let me manage; sit down, INIr. 
 BrowL aut quocunque alio nomine vocaris — Dominie, 
 take your seat — draw in your chair, honest Liddesdale." 
 
 " I dinna ken, Mr. Pleydell," said Dinmont, looking at 
 his dreadnought-coat, then at the handsome furniture of 
 the room, " I had maybe better gang some gate else, 
 and leave ye till your cracks — I'm no just that weel 
 put on." 
 
 The Colonel, who by this time recognised Dandle, im- 
 mediately went up and bid him heartily welcome ; assur- 
 ing him, that from what he had seen of him in Edin- 
 burgh, he was sure his rough coat and thick-soled boots 
 would honour a royal drawing-room. 
 
 " Na, na, Colonel, we're just plain up-the-country folk ; 
 but nae doubt I would fain hear ony pleasure that was 
 gaun to happen the Captain, and I'm sure a' will gae 
 right if Mr. Pleydell will take his bit job in hand." 
 
 " You're right, Dandie — spoke like a Hieland * oracle 
 — and now be silent. Well, you are all seated at la>;t ; 
 take a glass of wine till I begin ray catechism methodi- 
 
 * It may not be unnecessary to tell southern readers, that the motin- 
 tainous country in the south-western bordftrs of Scotland, is called 
 Hieland, though totally different from the much more mountainous 
 ind more extensive districts of the north, usually called Hielands. 
 
244 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 cally. And now," turning to Bertram, " my dear boy, do 
 you know who or wliat you are ? " 
 
 In spite of his perplexity, the catechumen could not 
 help laughing at this commencement, and answered, " In- 
 deed, sir, I formerly thought I did ; but I own late cir- 
 cumstances have made me somewhat uncertain." 
 
 " Then tell us what you formerly thought yourself." 
 
 " Why, I was in the habit of thinking and calling my- 
 self Vanbeest Brown, who served as a cadet or volunteer 
 
 under Colonel Mannering, when he commanded the — 
 
 regiment, in which capacity I was not unknown to him." 
 
 " There," said the Colonel, " I can assui'e Mr. Brown 
 of his identity ; and add, what his modesty may have for- 
 gotten, that he was distinguished as a young man of talent 
 and spirit." 
 
 " So much the better, my dear sir," said Mr. Pleydell ; 
 " but that is to general character — Mr. Brown must tell 
 us where he was born." 
 
 " In Scotland, I beheve, but the place uncertain." 
 
 "Where educated?" 
 
 " In Holland, certainly." 
 
 " Do you remember nothing of your early life before 
 you left Scotland ? " 
 
 " Yery imperfectly ; — yet I have a strong idea, perhaps 
 more* deeply impressed upon me by subsequent hard 
 usage, that I was during my childhood the object of much 
 solicitude and affection. I have an indistinct remem- 
 brance of a good-looking man whom I used to call papa, 
 and of a lady who was infirm in health, and who, I think, 
 must have been my mother ; but it is an imperfect and 
 confused recollection. I remember, too, a tall, thin, kind- 
 tempered man in black, who used to teach me my let- 
 ters and walk out with me ; — and I think the very last 
 time " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 245 
 
 Here the Dominie could contain no longer. "While 
 every succeeding word served to prove that the child of 
 his benefactor stood before him, he had struggled with the 
 utmost difficulty to suppress his emotions ; but, when the 
 juvenile recollections of Bertram turned towards his tutor 
 and his precepts, he was compelled to give way to his 
 feelings. He rose hastily from his chair, and with 
 clasped hands, trembling limbs, and streaming eyes, called 
 out aloud, " Harry Bertram ! — look at me — was I not 
 the man ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " said Bertram, starting from his seat as if a 
 sudden light had burst in upon his mind, — " Yes — that 
 was my name ! — and that is the voice and the figure of 
 my kind old master ! " 
 
 The Dominie threw himself into his arms, pressed him 
 a thousand times to his bosom in convulsions of transport 
 which shook his whole frame, sobbed hysterically, and at 
 length, in the emphatic language of Scripture, lifted up 
 his voice and wept aloud. Colonel Mannering had re- 
 course to his handkerchief ; Pleydell made wry faces and 
 wiped the glasses of his spectacles ; and honest Dinmont, 
 after two loud blubbering explosions, exclaimed, " Deil's 
 in the man ! he's garr'd me do that I haena done since 
 my auld mither died." 
 
 " Come, come," said the counsellor at last, " silence in 
 the court. — We have a clever party to contend with ; wo 
 must lose no time in gathering our information — for any- 
 thing I know, there may be something to be done before 
 day-break." 
 
 *' I will order a horse to be saddled if you please," said 
 the Colonel. • 
 
 " No, no, time enough — time enough. But come, 
 Dominie ; — I have allowed you a competent space to ex- 
 
246 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 press your feelings — I must circumduce the term ; you 
 must let me proceed in my examination." 
 
 The Dominie was habitually obedient to anyone who 
 chose to impose commands upon him ; he sunk back into 
 his chair, spread his checked handkerchief over his face, 
 to serve, as I suppose, for the Grecian painter's veil, and 
 from the action of his folded hands, appeared for a time 
 engaged in the act of mental thanksgiving. lie then 
 raised his eyes over the screen as if to be assured that the 
 pleasing apparition had not melted into air — then again 
 sunk them to resume his internal act of devotion, until he 
 felt himself compelled to give attention to the counsellor, 
 from the interest which his questions excited. 
 
 "And now," said Mr. PleydeU, after several minute 
 inquiries concerning his recollection of early events — ■ 
 " and now, JVIr. Bertram, for I think we ought in future 
 to call you by your own proper name, will you have 
 the goodness to let us know every particular which 
 you can recollect concerning the mode of your leaving 
 Scotland?" 
 
 " Indeed, sir, to say the truth, though the terrible out- 
 lines of that day are strongly impressed upon my memory, 
 yet somehow the very terror which fixed them there has 
 in a great measure confounded and confused the details. 
 I recollect, however, that I was walking somewhere or 
 other — in a wood, I think " 
 
 " yes, it was in Warroch-wood, my dear," said the 
 Dominie. 
 
 " Hush, ]VIr. Sampson," said the lawyer. 
 
 " Yes, it was in a wood," continued Bertram, as long 
 past and confused ideas arranged themselves in his re- 
 viving recollection ; " and some one was with me — this 
 worthy and affectionate gentleman, I think." 
 
GUr MANNERING. 247 
 
 " O, aj, slj, Harry, Lord bless thee — it was even I 
 myself." 
 
 " Be silent, Dominie, and don't interrupt the evidence," 
 said Pleydell. — '' And so, sir ? " to Bertram. 
 
 •' And so, sir," continued Bertram, " like one of the 
 changes of a dream, I thought I was on horseback before 
 my guide." 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed Sampson, " never did I put my 
 own limbs, not to say thine, into such peril." 
 
 " On my word, this is intolerable ! — Look ye. Dominie, 
 if you speak another word till I give you leave, I wiU 
 read three sentences out of the Black Acts, whisk my 
 cane round my head three times, undo all the magic of 
 tliis night's work, and conjure Harry Bertram back again 
 into Vanbeest Brown." 
 
 " Honoured and worthy sir," groaned out the Dominie, 
 " I humbly crave pardon ; it was but verbum nolens.^' 
 
 " Well, nolens volens, you must hold your tongue," said 
 Pleydell. 
 
 " Pray, be silent, Mr. Sampson," said the Colonel ; it is 
 of great consequence to your recovered friend, that you 
 permit Mr. Pleydell to proceed in his inquiries." 
 
 " I am mute," said the rebuked Dominie. 
 
 " On a sudden," continued Bertram, " two or three men 
 sprung out upon us, and we were pulled from horseback. 
 I have little recollection of anything else, but that I tried 
 to escape in the midst of a desperate scuffle, and fell into 
 the arms of a very tall woman who started from the 
 bushes, and protected me for some time ; the rest is all 
 confusion and dread — a dim recollection of a sea-beach 
 and a cave, and of some strong potion which lulled me to 
 sleep for a length of time. In short, it is all a blank in 
 my memory, until I recollect myself first an ill-used and 
 
248 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 half-starved cabin-boy aboard a sloop, and then a school- 
 boy in Holland, under the protection of an old merchant, 
 who had talien some fancy for me." 
 
 " And what account," said INIr. Pleydell, " did your 
 guardian give of your parentage ? " 
 
 " A very brief one," answered Bertram, " and a charge 
 to inquire no farther. I was given to understand, that 
 my father was concerned in the smuggling trade carried 
 on on the eastern coast of Scotland, and was killed in a 
 skirmish with the revenue officers ; that his corre- 
 spondents in Holland had a vessel on the coast at the 
 time, part of the crew of which were engaged in the 
 affair, and that they brought me off after it was over, 
 from a motive of compassion, as I was left destitute by 
 my father's death. As I grew older, there was much of 
 this story seemed inconsistent with my own recollections. 
 But what could I do ? I had no means of ascertaining 
 my doubts, nor a single friend with whom I could com- 
 municate or canvass them. The rest of my story is 
 known to Colonel Mannering ; I went out to India to be 
 a clerk in a Dutch house ; their affairs fell into confu- 
 sion ; I betook myself to the military profession, and, I 
 trust, as yet I have not disgraced it." 
 
 " Thou art a fine young fellow, I'll be bound for thee," 
 said Pleydell ; " and since you have wanted a father so 
 long, I wish from my heart I could claim the paternity 
 myself. But this affair of young Hazlewood " 
 
 " Was merely accidental," said Bertram. " I was 
 travelling in Scotland for pleasure, and after a week's 
 residence with my friend Mr. Dinmont, with whom I 
 had the good fortune to form an accidental acquaint- 
 ance " 
 
 " It was mj' gude fortune that," said Dinmont " Od, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 249 
 
 my brains wad hae been knockit out by twa blackguards, 
 if it liadna been for his four quarters." 
 
 " Shortly after we. parted at the town of , I lost 
 
 my baggage by thieves, and it was while residing at Kip- 
 pletringan that I accidentally met the young gentleman. 
 As I was approaching to pay my respects to Miss Man- 
 nering, whom I had known in India, Mr. Hazlewood, 
 conceiving my appearance none of the most respectable, 
 commanded me rather haughtily to stand back, and so 
 gave occasion to the fray in which I had the misfortune 
 to be the accidental means of wounding him. — And "now, 
 sir, that I have answered all your questions" 
 
 " No, no, not quite all," said Pleydell, winking saga- 
 ciously ; " there are some interrogatories which I shall 
 delay till to-morrow, for it is time, I beheve, to close the 
 sederunt for this night, or rather morning " 
 
 " "Well, then, sir," said the young man, "^ vary the 
 phrase, since I have answered all the questions which you 
 ha^e chosen to ask to-night, will you be so good as to tell 
 me who you are that take such interest in my affairs, and 
 whom you take me to be, since my arrival has occasioned 
 such commotion ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, for myself," replied the counsellor, " I am 
 Paulus Pleydell, an advocate at the Scottish bar ; and for 
 you, it is not easy to say distinctly who you are at pres- 
 ent ; but I trust in a short time to hail you by the title 
 of Henry Bertram, Esq., representative of one of the 
 oldest families in Scotland, and heir of tailzie and provis- 
 ion to the estate of Ellangowan. Ay," continued he, 
 shutting his eyes and speaking to himself, " we must pass 
 over his father, and serve him heir to his grandfather 
 Lewis, the entailer, the only wise man of his family that 
 I ever heard of." 
 
250 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 They had now risen to retire to their apartments for 
 the night, when Colonel Mannermg walked up to Ber- 
 ti'am, as he stood astonished at the counsellor's words. 
 " I give you joy," he said, " of the prospects which fate 
 has opened before you. I was an early friend of your 
 father, and chanced to be in the house of EUangowan as 
 unexpectedly as you are now in mine, upon the very 
 night on which you were born. I little knew this circum- 
 stance when — but I trust unkindness will be forgotten 
 between us. Believe me, your appearance here, as 
 Mr. Brown, alive and well, has relieved me from most 
 painful sensations ; and your right to the name of an 
 old friend renders your presence, as IMr. Bertram, doubly 
 welcome." 
 
 " And my parents ! " said Bertram. 
 
 "Are both no more — and the family property has 
 been sold, but I trust may be recovered. Whatever is 
 wanted to make your right effectual, I shall be most 
 happy to supply." 
 
 " Nay, you may leave all that to me," said the coun- 
 sellor; — "'tis my vocation, Hal, I shall make money 
 of it." 
 
 " I'm sure it's no for the like o' me," observed Din- 
 mont, " to speak to you gentlefolks ; but if siller would 
 ■help on the Captain's plea, and they say nae plea gangs 
 on weel without it " 
 
 " Except on Saturday night," said Pleydell. 
 
 " Ay, but when your honour wadna take your fee, ye 
 wadna hae the cause neither ; sae I'll ne'er fash you on a 
 Saturday at e'en again — But I was saying there's some 
 siller in the spleuchan * that's hke the Captain's ain, for 
 we've aye counted it such, baith Ailie and me." 
 
 * A spleuchan is a tobacco pouch, occasionally ised as a purse. 
 
GUY MAKNERING. ^5X 
 
 " No, no, Liddesdale — no occasion, no occasion what- 
 ever — ^keep thy cash to stock thy farm." 
 
 " To stock my farm ? Mr. Pleydell, your honour kena 
 jnony things, but ye dinna ken the farm o' Charhes-hope 
 — ^it's sae weel stockit abeady, that we sell maybe sax 
 hundred pounds off it ilka year, flesh and fell thegither — 
 na, na." 
 
 " Can't you take another, then ? " 
 
 " I dinna ken — the Deuke's no that fond o' led farms, 
 and he canna bide to put away the auld tenantry ; and 
 then I wadna hke, myseU, to gang about whistling * and 
 raising the rent on my neighbours." 
 
 " What, not upon thy neighbour at Dawston — Devil- 
 stone — ^how d'ye call the place ? " 
 
 " What, on Jock o' Dawston ? — hout na — he's a cam- 
 steary f chield, and fasheous j about marches, and we've 
 had some bits o' splores thegither ; but deil o' me if I 
 would wrang Jock o' Dawston neither." 
 
 " Thou'rt an honest fellow," said the lawyer ; " get 
 thee to bed ; — thou wilt sleep sounder, I warrant thee, 
 than many a man that throws off an embroidered coat, 
 and puts on a laced night-cap. Colonel, I see you are 
 busy with our Enfant trouvL But Barnes must give me 
 a summons of wakening at seven to-morrow morning, for 
 my servant's a sleepy-headed fellow, and I dare say my 
 clerk. Driver, has had Clarence's fate, and is drowned by 
 this time in a butt of your ale ; for Mrs. Allan promised 
 
 * Whistling, among the tenantry of a large estate, is when an indi- 
 vidual gives such information to the proprietor, or his managers, as to 
 •Vccasion the rent of his neighbour's farms being raised, which, for 
 ' vious reasons, is held a very unpopular practice. 
 
 t Obstinate and unruly. 
 
 X Troublesome. 
 
252 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 to make him comfortable, and she'll soon discover what 
 he expects from that engagement. Good-night, Colonel 
 — good-night. Dominie Sampson — good-night, Dinmont 
 the downright — good-night, last of all, to the new-fomid 
 representative of the Bertrams, and the Mac-Dingawaies, 
 the Knarths, the Arths, the Godfreys, the Dennises, and 
 the Rolands, and, last, and dearest title, heir of tailzie and 
 provision of the lands and barony of Ellangowan, mider 
 the settlement of Lewis Bertram, Esq., whose represent- 
 ative" you are." 
 
 And so saying, the old gentleman took his candle and 
 left the room; and the company dispersed, after the 
 Dominie had once more hugged and embraced his " little 
 Harry Bertram," as he continued to call the young soldier 
 of six feet high. 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 253 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 My imagination 
 
 Carries no favour in it but Bertram's ; 
 I am undone ; there is no living, none, 
 If Bertram be away. 
 
 All's well that Ends weli. 
 
 At the hour which he had appointed the preceding 
 evening, the indefatigable lawyer was seated by a good 
 fire and a pair of wax candles, with a velvet cap on his 
 head and a quilted silk night-gown on his person, busy 
 arranging his memoranda of proofs and indications con- 
 cerning the murder of Frank Kennedy. An express had 
 also been despatched to Mr. Mac-Morlan, requesting his 
 attendance at Woodbourne as soon as possible, on business 
 of importance. Dinmont, fatigued with the events of the 
 evening before, and finding the accommodations of Wood- 
 bourne much preferable to those of Mac-Guffog, was in 
 no hurry to rise. The impatience of Bertram might have 
 put him earlier in motion, but Colonel Mannering had 
 intimated an intention to visit him in his apartment in 
 the morning, and he did not choose to leave it. Before 
 this interview he had dressed himself, Barnes having, by 
 his master's orders, supplied him with every accommoda- 
 tion of linen, &c., and he now anxiously waited the 
 promised visit of his landlord. 
 
 In a short time a gentle tap announced the Colonel, 
 
254 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 with wliom Bertram held a long and satisfactoiy conver- 
 sation. Each, however, concealed from the other one 
 cii'cumstance. Mannering could not bring himself to 
 acknowledge the astrological prediction; and Bertram 
 was, from motives which may be easily conceived, silent 
 respecting his love for Julia. In other respects, their 
 intercourse was frank, and grateful to both, and had lat- 
 terly, upon the Colonel's part, even an approach to cor- 
 diality. Bertram carefully measured his own conduct by 
 that of his host, and seemed rather to receive his offered 
 kindness with gratitude and pleasure, than to press for it 
 with sohcitation. 
 
 Miss Bertram was in the breakfast parlour when 
 Sampson shuffled in, — his face all radiant with smiles ; a 
 circumstance so uncommon, that Lucy's first idea was, 
 that somebody had been bantering him with an imposition 
 which had thrown him into this ecstasy. Having sate for 
 some tim.e, roUing his eyes and gaping with his mouth 
 like the great wooden head at Merlin's exhibition, he at 
 length began — " And what do you think of him, o^Iiss 
 Lucy ? " 
 
 " Think of whom, Mr. Sampson ? " asked the young 
 lady. 
 
 " Of Har — no — of him that you know about ? " again 
 demanded the Dominie. 
 
 " That I know about? " replied Lucy, totally at a loss 
 to comprehend his meaning. 
 
 " Yes — ^the stranger, you know, that came last evening 
 in the post vehicle — he who shot young Hazlewood — ha ! 
 ha ! ho ! " burst forth the Dominie, with a laugh that 
 Bounded like neio;hinff. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Sampson," said his pupil, " you have 
 chosen a strange subject for mirth; — I think nothing 
 
GUY MANNERING. 26o 
 
 about the man — only I hope the outrage was accidental, 
 and that we need not fear a repetition of it." 
 
 " Accidental ! — ho ! ho ! ha ! " again whinnied Samp- 
 son. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Sampson," said Lucy, somewhat piqued, 
 " you are unusually gay this morning.'* 
 
 " Yes, of a surety I am ! ha ! ha ! ho ! fa-ce-ti-ous- — 
 ho ! ho ! ha ! " 
 
 " So unusually facetious, my dear sir," pursued the 
 young lady, " that I would wish rather to know the 
 meaning of your mirth, than to be amused with its effects 
 only." . 
 
 " You shall know it, Miss Lucy," replied poor Abel — 
 " Do you remember your brother ? " 
 
 " Good God ! how can you ask me ? — no one knows 
 better than you, he was lost the very day I was born." 
 
 " Very true, very true," answered the Dominie, sad- 
 dening at the recollection ; " I was strangely oblivious — 
 ay, ay — too true — But you remember your worthy 
 father ? " 
 
 " How should you doubt it, 'Mr. Sampson ? it is not so 
 many weeks since " 
 
 " True, true — ay, too true," replied the Dominie, his 
 Houyhnhnm laugh sinking into a hysterical giggle — " I 
 will be facetious no more under these remembrances — But 
 look at that young man ! " 
 
 Bertram at this instant entered the room. " Yes, look 
 at him well — he is your father's living image ; and as 
 God has deprived you of your dear parents — O my chil- 
 dren, love one another ! " 
 
 ^ It is indeed my father's face and form," said Lucy, 
 turning very pale. Bertram ran to support her — the 
 Dominie to fetch water to throw upon her face — (which 
 
256 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 in his haste he took from the boiling tea-u]-n) — when for- 
 tunately her colour returning rapidly, saved her from the 
 application of this ill-judged remedy. " I conjure you to 
 tell me, Mr. Sampson," she said, in an interrupted yet 
 solemn voice, " is this my brother ? " 
 
 " It is ! it is, Miss Lucy ! — it is little Harry Bertram, 
 as sure as God's sun is in that heaven ! " 
 
 " And this is my sister ? " said Bertram, giving way to 
 all that family affection which had so long slumbered in 
 his bosom for want of an object to expand itself upon. 
 
 " It is ! it is! — it is Miss Lucy Bertram ! " ejaculated 
 Sampson, " whom by my poor aid you will find perfect in 
 the tongues of France and Italy, and even of Spain — in 
 reading and writing her vernacular tongue, and in arith- 
 metic and book-keeping by double and single entry. I 
 say nothing of her talents of shaping, and hemming, and 
 governing a household, which, to give every one their 
 due, she acquired not from me, but from the house- 
 keeper ; — nor do I take merit for her performance upon 
 stringed instruments, whereunto the instructions of an 
 honourable young lady of virtue and modesty, and very 
 facetious withal — Miss Juha Mannering — hath not meanly 
 contributed — Suum cuique tribidtor 
 
 " You, then," said Bertram to his sister, " are all that 
 remains to me ! Last night, but more fully this morning, 
 Colonel Mannering gave me an account of our family 
 misfortunes, though without saying I should find my sister 
 here." 
 
 " That," said Lucy, " he left to this gentleman to tell 
 you, — one of the kindest and most faithful of friends, who 
 soothed my father's long sickness, witnessed his dying 
 moments, and amid the heaviest clouds of fortune would 
 not desert his orphan." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 257 
 
 " God bless him for it ! " said Bertram, shaking the 
 Dominie's hand; "he deserves the love with which I 
 have always regarded even that dim and imperfect shadow 
 of his memory which my childhood retained." 
 
 "And God bless you both, my dear children!" said 
 Sampson : " if it had not been for your sake, I would 
 have been contented (had Heaven's pleasure so been) to 
 lay my head upon the turf beside my patron." 
 
 " But I trust," said Bertram — " I am encouraged to 
 hope, we shall all see better days. All our wrongs shall 
 be redressed, since Heaven has sent me means and friends 
 to assert my right." 
 
 " Friends indeed ! " echoed the Dominie, " and sent, as 
 you truly say, by Him, to whom I early taught you to 
 look up as the source of all that is good. There is the 
 great Colonel Mannering from the Eastern Indies, a man 
 of war from his birth upwards, but who is not the less a 
 man of great erudition, considering his imperfect oppor- 
 tunities ; and there is, moreover, the great advocate, Mr. 
 Pleydell, who is also a man of great erudition, but who 
 descendeth to trifles unbeseeming thereof; and there is 
 Mr. Andrew Dinmont, whom I do not understand to 
 have possession of much erudition, but who, like the 
 patriarchs of old, is cunning in that which belongeth to 
 flocks and herds. Lastly, there is even I myself, whose 
 opportunities of collecting erudition, as they have been 
 greater than those of the aforesaid valuable persons, have 
 not, if it becomes me so to speak, been pretermitted by 
 me, in so far as my poor faculties have enabled me to 
 profit by them. Of a surety, little Harry, we must speedily 
 resume our studies. 1 will begin from the foundation — ■ 
 ye?;, I will reform your education upward from the tme 
 
 VOL. IV. 17 
 
2«18 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 knowledge of English grammar, even to that of the 
 Hebrew or Chaiclaic tongue." 
 
 The reader may observe, that upon this occasion Samp- 
 son was infinitely more profuse of words than he had 
 hitherto exhibited himself. The reason was, tliat in 
 recovering his pupil, his mind went instantly back to 
 their original connexion, and he had, in his confusion of 
 ideas, the strongest desire in the world to resume spelling 
 lessons, and half-text with young Bertram. This was the 
 more ridiculous, as towards Lucy he assumed no such 
 powers of tuition. But she had grown up under his eye, 
 and had been gradually emancipated from his government 
 by increase in years and knowledge, and a latent sense 
 of his own inferior tact in manners, whereas his first ideas 
 went to take up Harry pretty nearly where he had left 
 him. From the same feelings of reviving authority, he 
 indulged himself in what was to him a profusion of lan- 
 guage ; and as people seldom speak more than usual 
 without exposing themselves, he gave those whom he 
 addi'essed plainly to understand, that while he deferred 
 implicitly to the opinions and commands, if they chose to 
 impose them, of almost every one whom he met with, it 
 was under an internal conviction, that in the article of 
 e-ru-di-ti-on, as he usually pronounced the word, he was 
 infinitely superior to them all put together. At present, 
 however, this intimation fell upon heedless ears, for the 
 brother and sister were too deeply engaged in asking and 
 receiving intelligence concerning their former fortunes, to 
 attend much to the worthy Dominie. 
 
 When Colonel Mannering left Bertram, he went tr 
 
 Julia's dressing-room, and dismissed her attendant. " My 
 
 .dear sir," she said as he entered, "you have forgot our 
 
 vigils last night, and have hardly allowed me time to 
 
GUY MANNERINGc 259 
 
 3omb my hair, although jou must be sensible how it stood 
 on end at the various wonders which took place." 
 
 " It is with the inside of your head that I have some 
 business at present, Julia ; I will return the outside to the 
 care of your Mrs. Mincing in a few minutes." 
 
 " Lord, papa," replied Miss Mannering, " think how 
 entangled all my ideas are, and you to propose to comb 
 them out in a few minutes ! If Mincing were to do so in 
 her department, she would tear half the hair out of my 
 head." 
 
 " Well then, tell me," said the Colonel, " v/here the 
 entanglement lies, which I will try to extricate with due 
 gentleness." 
 
 " Oh, every where," said the young lady — " the whole 
 is a wild dream." 
 
 " Well then, I will try to unriddle it." — He gave a 
 brief sketch of the fate and prospects of Bertram, to 
 which Julia listened with an interest which she in vain 
 endeavoured to disguise — " Well," concluded her father, 
 " are your ideas on the subject more luminous ? " 
 
 " More confused than ever, my dear sir," said Julia — 
 " Here is this young man come from India, after he had 
 been supposed dead, like Aboulfouaris the great voyager 
 to his sister Canzade and his provident brother Hour. 1 
 am wrong in the story, I believe — Canzade was his wife 
 —but Lucy may represent the one, and the Dominie the 
 other. And then this lively crack-brained Scotch lawyer 
 appears like a pantomime at the end of a tragedy — And 
 then how delightful it will be if Lucy gets back her 
 fortune ! " 
 
 " Now I think," said the Colonel, " that the most . mys- 
 terious part of the business is, that Miss Julia Mannering, 
 who must have known her father's anxiety about the fate 
 
260 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 of this young man Brown, or Bertram, as we must now 
 call him, should have met him when Hazlewood's acci- 
 dent took place, and never once mentioned to her father 
 a word of the matter, but suffered the search to proceed 
 against this young gentleman as a suspicious character 
 and assassin." 
 
 Julia, much of whose courage had been hastily assumed 
 to meet the interview with her father, was now unable to 
 rally herself; she hung down her head in silence, after in 
 vain attempting to utter a denial that she recollected 
 Brown when she met him. 
 
 " No answer ! — Well, Juha," continued her father, 
 gravely but kindly, " allow me to ask you. Is this the 
 only time you have seen Brown since his return from 
 India ? — Still no answer. I must then naturally suppose 
 that it is not the first time ? — Still no reply. Juha Man- 
 nering, will you have the kindness to answer me ? Was 
 it this young man who came under your window and con- 
 versed with you during your residence at Mervyn-Hall ? 
 Julia, I command — I entreat you to be candid." 
 
 Miss Mannering raised her head. " I have been, sir — 
 I beheve I am still very foolish ; — and it is perhaps more 
 hard upon me that I must meet this gentleman, who has 
 been, though not the cause entirely, yet the accomplice of 
 my folly, in your presence." — Here she made a full stop. 
 
 " I am to understand, then," said Mannering, " that this 
 was the author of the serenade at Mervyn-Hall ? " 
 
 There was something in this allusive change of epithet, 
 that gave Julia a little more courage — " He was indeed, 
 sir ; and if I am very wrong, as I have often thought, I 
 have some apology." 
 
 " And what is that ? " answered the Colonel, speaking 
 quick, and with something of harshness. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 261 
 
 " I will iiot venture to name it, sir — but " — She optmed 
 a small cabinet, and put some letters into Ms hands ; " I 
 will give you these, that you may see how this intimacy 
 began, and by whom it was encouraged." 
 
 Maunering took the packet to the window — his pride 
 forbade a more distant retreat. He glanced at some pas- 
 sages of the letters with an unsteady eye and an agitated 
 mind. His stoicism, however, came in time to his aid- 
 that philosophy, which rooted in pride, yet frequently 
 bears the fruits of virtue. He returned towards his 
 daughter with as firm an air as his feelings permitted him 
 to assume. 
 
 " There is^ great apology for you, JuHa, as far as I can 
 judge from a glance at these letters — you have obeyed at 
 least one parent. Let us adopt the Scotch proverb the 
 Dominie quoted the other day — ' Let bygones be bygones, 
 and fair play for the future.' — I will never upbraid you 
 with your past want of confidence — do you judge of my 
 future intentions by my actions, of which hitherto you 
 have surely had no reason to complain. Keep these let- 
 ters — they were never intended for my eye, and I would 
 not wilHngly read more of them than I have done, at your 
 desire and for your exculpation. And now, are we 
 friends ? or rather, do you understand me ? " 
 
 " O my dear generous father," said Julia, throwing her- 
 self into his arms, " why have I ever for an instant mis- 
 understood you ? " 
 
 " No more of that, Julia," said the Colonel : " we have 
 both been to blame. He that is too proud to vindicate 
 the affection and confidence which he conceives should be 
 given without solicitation, must meet much, and perhaps 
 deserved disappointment. It is enough that one dearest 
 and most regretted member of my family has gone to 
 
262 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the grave without knowing me ; let me not lose the con- 
 fidence of a child, who ought to love me if she really 
 loves herself." 
 
 " O ! no danger — no fear ! " answered Julia — " let me 
 but have your approbation and my own, and there is no 
 rule jou can prescribe so severe that I will not follow." 
 
 " Well, my love," kissing her forehead, " I trust we 
 shall not call upon you for anything too heroic. With 
 respect to tliis young gentleman's addresses, I expect in 
 the first place that all clandestine correspondence — which 
 no young woman can entertain for a moment without 
 lessening herself in her own eyes, and in those of her 
 lover — I request, I say, that clandestine correspondence 
 of every kind may be given up, and that you will refer 
 ]VIr. Bertram to me for the reason. You will naturally 
 wish to know what is to be the issue of such a reference. 
 In the first place, I desire to observe this young gentle- 
 man's character more closely than circumstances, and 
 perhaps my own prejudices, have permitted formerly — I 
 should also be glad to see his birth estabhshed. Not that 
 T am anxious about his getting the estate of EUangowan, 
 though such a subject is held in absolute indifference 
 nowhere except in a novel ; but certainly Henry Ber- 
 tram, heir of Ellangowan, whether possessed of the 
 property of his ancestors or not, is a very different per- 
 son from Vanbeest Brown, the son of nobody at all. His 
 fathers, Mr. Pleydell tells me, are distinguished in history 
 as following the banners of their native princes, while our 
 own fought at Cressy and Poictiers. In short, I neither 
 give nor withhold my approbation, but I expect you will 
 redeem past errors ; and as you can now unfortunately 
 have recourse only to one parent, that you will show the 
 duty of a child, by reposing that confidence in me, which 
 
GUY MANXEKIXG. 263 
 
 I will saj my inclination to make you liappj renders a 
 filial debt upon your part." 
 
 The first part of this speech affected Julia a good deal ; 
 the comparative merit of the ancestors of the Bertrams 
 and Mannerings excited a secret smile ; but the conclu- 
 sion was such as to soften a heart peculiarly open to the 
 feelings of generosity. " No, my dear sir," she said, ex- 
 tending her hand, " receive my faith, that from this 
 moment you shall be the first person consulted respect- 
 ing what shall pass in future between Brown — I mean 
 Bertram — and me ; and that no engagement shall be 
 undertaken by me, excepting what you shall immediately 
 know and approve of. May I ask if ]VIr. Bertram is to 
 continue a guest at Woodbourne ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the Colonel, " while his affairs render 
 it advisable." 
 
 " Then, sir, you must be sensible, considering what is 
 already past, that he will expect some reason for my 
 withdrawing — I beheve I must say the encouragement, 
 which he may think I have given." 
 
 " I expect, Julia," answered Mannering, '* that he will 
 respect my roof, and entertain some sense perhaps of the 
 services I am desirous to render him, and so will not 
 insist upon any course of conduct of which I might have 
 reason to complain ; and I expect of you, that you will 
 make him sensible of what is due to both." 
 
 " Then, sir, I understand you, and you shall be implic- 
 itly obeyed." 
 
 " Thank you, my love ; my anxiety " (kissing her) " is 
 on your account. — Now wipe these witnesses trom your 
 eyes, and so to breakfast." 
 
264 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER LH. 
 
 And, Sheriflf, I will engage my word to yon, 
 That I will by to-morrow dinner time, 
 Send him to answer thee, or any man, 
 For anything he shall be charged withal. 
 
 FiEST Part of EteNBT IT. 
 
 When the several by-plays, as they may be termed, 
 had taken place among the individuals of the Woodboume 
 family, as we have intimated in the preceding chapter, 
 the breakfast party at length assembled, Dandle excepted, 
 who had consulted his taste in viands, and perhaps in 
 society, by partaking of a cup of tea with Mrs. Allan, just 
 laced with two tea-spoonsful of Cogniac, and reinforced 
 with various sHces from a huge round of beef. He had 
 a kind of feeling that he could eat twice as much, and 
 speak twice as much, with this good dame and Barnes, as 
 with the grand folk in the parloui\ Indeed, the meal of 
 this less distinguished party was much more mirthful than 
 that in the higher circle, where there was an obviuds air 
 of constraint on the greater part of the assistants. Julia 
 dared not raise her voice in asking Bertram if he chose 
 another cup of tea. Bertram felt embarrassed while 
 eating his toast and butter under the eye of INIannering. 
 Lucy, while she indulged to the uttermost her affection 
 for her recovered brother, began to think of the quarrel 
 betwixt him and Hazlewood. The Colonel felt the pain- 
 ful anxiety natural to a proud mind, when it deems i's 
 
GUY MANNERING. 265 
 
 slightest action subject for a moment to the watchful con- 
 struction of others. The lawyer, while sedulously but- 
 tering his roll, had an aspect of unwonted gravity, arising, 
 perhaps, from the severity of his morning studies. Aa 
 for the Dominie, his state of mind was ecstatic ! — Ha 
 looked at Bertram — he looked at Lucy — he whimpered 
 — he sniggled — ^he grinned — he committed all manner 
 of solecisms in point of fcrm — poured the whole cream 
 (no unlucky mistake) upon the plate of porridge which 
 was his own usual breakfast — threw the slops of what 
 he called his "crowning dish of tea" into the sugar-dish 
 instead of the slop-basin, and concluded with spilhng the 
 scalding liquor upon old Plato, the Colonel's favourite 
 spaniel, who received the libation with a howl that did 
 little honour to his philosophy. 
 
 The Colonel's equanimity was rather shaken by this 
 last blunder. " Upon my word, my good friend, ISir. 
 Sampson, you forget the difference between Plato and 
 Zenocrates." 
 
 " The former was chief of the Academics, the latter of 
 the Stoics," said the Dominie, with some scorn of the 
 supposition. 
 
 " Yes, my dear sir, but it was Zenocrates, not Plato, 
 who denied that pain was an evil." 
 
 " I should have thought," said Pleydell, " that very 
 respectable quadruped, which is just now hmping out of 
 the room upon three of his four legs, was rather of the 
 Cynic school." 
 
 " Very well hit off But here comes an answer from 
 
 Mac-Morlan." 
 
 It was unfavourable. Mrs. Mac-Morlan sent her re- 
 spectful compliments, and her husband had been, and 
 was, detained by some alarming disturbances which had 
 
266 WAVERTEY NOVELS. 
 
 taken place the preceding night at Portanferrj, and the 
 necessary investigation which they had occasioned. 
 
 " What's to be done now, counsellor ? " said the Colo- 
 nel to Pleydell. 
 
 " Why, I wish we could have seen Mac-Morlan," said 
 the counsellor, " who is a sensible fellow himself, and 
 would, besides, have acted under my advice. But there 
 is Httle harm. Our friend here must be made sui juris : 
 he is at present an escaped prisoner ; the law has an 
 awkward claim upon him — he must be placed rectus in 
 curia, — that is the first object. For which purpose. 
 Colonel, I will accompany you in your carriage down to 
 Hazlewood-House ; — the distance is not great. We will 
 offer our bail ; and I am confident I can easily show 
 
 Mr. — I beg his pardon — Sir Robert Hazlewood, the 
 
 necessity of receiving it." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the Colonel ; and ringing 
 the bell, gave the necessary orders. " And what is next 
 to be done ? " 
 
 " We must get hold of Mac-Morlan, and look out for 
 more proof." 
 
 " Proof!" said the Colonel; " the tiling is as clear as 
 dayhght; — here are ]Mr. Sampson and Miss Bertram, 
 and you yourself, at once recognise the young gentleman 
 as his father's image; and he himself recollects all the 
 very pecuHar circumstances preceding his leaving this 
 country — What else is necessary to conviction ? " 
 
 " To moral conviction nothing more, perhaps," said the 
 experienced lawyer, " but for legal proof a great deal. 
 Mr. Bertram's recollections are his own recollections 
 merely ; and therefore are not evidence in his own favour ; 
 Miss Bertram, the learned Mr. Sampson, and I, can only 
 Bay, what every one who knew the late Ellangowan will 
 
GUT MANNERtNG. 267 
 
 readily agree in, that this gentleman is his very picture 
 — But that will not make him EUangowan's son, and 
 give him the estate." 
 
 " And what will do so ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " Why, we must have a distinct probation. — -There are 
 these gipsies, — but then, alas ! they are almost infamous 
 in the eye of law — scarce capable of bearing evidence, 
 and Meg Merrilies utterly so, by the various accounts 
 which she formerly gave of the matter, and her impudent 
 denial of all knowledge of the fact when I myself exam- 
 ined her respecting it." 
 
 " What must be done then ? " asked Mannering. 
 
 " We must try," answered the legal sage, " what proof 
 can be got at in Holland, among the persons by whom 
 our young friend was educated. — But then the fear of 
 being called in question for the murder of the ganger 
 may make them silent ; or if they speak, they are either 
 foreigners or outlawed smugglers. In short, I see 
 doubts." 
 
 " Under favour, most learned and honoured sir," said 
 the Dominie, " I trust He, who hath restored little Harry 
 Bertram to his friends, will not leave his own work im- 
 perfect." 
 
 " I trust so too, Mr. Sampson," said' Pleydell ; " but 
 we must use the means ; and I am afraid we shall have 
 more difficulty in procuring them than I at first thought 
 — But a faint heart never won a fair lady— And, by the 
 way, (apart to Miss Mannering, while Bertram was 
 engaged with his sister,) " there's a vindication of lioi- 
 land for you ! — what smart fellows do you think Ley den 
 and Utrecht must send forth, when such a very genteel 
 and handsome young man comes from the paltry schoola 
 of Middleburgh ? " 
 
268 WAVEKLET NOVELS. 
 
 " Of a verity," said the Dominie, jealous of the reputa- 
 tion of the Dutch seminary — " of a verity, Mr. Pleydell, 
 but I make it known to you that I myself laid the founda- 
 tion of his education," 
 
 " True, my dear Dominie," answered the advocate ; 
 " that accounts for his proficiency in the graces, without 
 question. — But here comes your carriage, Colonel. Adieu, 
 young folks; Miss JuUa, keep your heart till I come 
 back again — let there be nothing done to prejudice my 
 right, whilst I am non valens agere.^' 
 
 Their reception at Hazlewood-House was more cold 
 and formal than usual ; for in general the Baronet ex- 
 pressed great respect for Colonel Mannering, and Mr. 
 Pleydell, besides being a man of good family and of high 
 general estimation, was Sir Robert's old friend. But 
 now he seemed dry and embarrassed in his manner. 
 " He would willingly," he said, " receive bail, notwith- 
 standing that the offence had been directly perpetrated, 
 committed, and done, against young Hazlewood of Hazle- 
 wood ; but the young man had given him himself a 
 fictitious description, and was altogether that sort of per- 
 son who should not be liberated, discharged, or let loose 
 upon society ; and therefore " 
 
 " I hope, Sir Robert Hazlewood," said the Colonel, 
 " you do not mean to doubt my word, when I assure you 
 that he served under me as a cadet in India ? " 
 
 *^' By no means or account whatsoever. But you call 
 him a cadet ; now he says, avers, and upholds, that he 
 was a captain, or held a troop in your regiment." 
 
 " He was promoted since I gave up the command." 
 
 " But you must have heard of it ? " 
 
 " No. I returned on account of family circumstances 
 'rom India, and have not since been solicitous to hear 
 
GUT MANNET.ING. 269 
 
 particular news from the regiment ; the name of Brown, 
 too*, is so common, that I might have seen his promotion 
 in the Gazette without noticing it. But a day or two 
 will bring letters from his commanding officer." 
 
 *' But I am told and informed, Mr. Pleydell," answered 
 Sir Robert, still hesitating, " that he does not mean to 
 abide by this name of Brown, but is to set up a claim to 
 the estate of Ellangowan under the name of Bertram." 
 
 *' Ay ? who says that ? " said the counsellor. 
 
 " Or," demanded the soldier, " whoever says so, does 
 that give a right to keep him in prison ? " 
 
 " Hush, Colonel," said the lawyer ; " I am sure you 
 would not, any more than I, countenance him, if he prove 
 an impostor. — And, among friends, who informed you of 
 this. Sir Robert ? " 
 
 " Why, a person, Mr. Pleydell," answered the Baro- 
 net, " who is peculiarly interested in investigating, sift- 
 ing, and clearing out this business to the bottom — you 
 will excuse my being more particular." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," rephed Pleydell ; — " well, and he 
 says ? " 
 
 " He says that it is whispered about among tinkers, 
 gipsies, and other idle persons, that there is such a plan 
 as I mentioned to you, and that this young man, who is a 
 bastard or natural son of the late Ellangowan, is pitched 
 upon as the impostor, from his strong family hkeness." 
 
 " And was there such a natural son. Sir Robert ? " 
 demanded the counsellor. 
 
 " Oh, certainly, to my own positive knowledge. El- 
 langowan had him placed as cabin-boy or powder-monkey 
 rm board an armed sloop or yacht belonging to the 
 revenue, through the interest of the late Commissioner 
 Bertram, a kinsman of liis own." 
 
270 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Well, Sir Robert," said the lawyer, taking the word 
 out of the mouth of the impatient soldier — " you have t6ld 
 me news ; I shall investigate them, and if I find them 
 true, certainly Colonel Mannering and I will not coun- 
 tenance this young man. In the meanwhile, as we are 
 all willing to make him forthcoming, to answer all com- 
 plaints against him, I do assure you you will act most 
 illegally, and incur heavy responsibihty, if you refuse our 
 bail" 
 
 " Why, Mr. Pleydell," said Sir Eobert, who knew the 
 high authority of the counsellor's opinion, " as you know 
 best, and as you promise to give up this young man " 
 
 " If he proves an impostor," rephed the lawyer, with 
 some emphasis. 
 
 " Ay, certainly — under that condition I will take your 
 bail ; though I must say, an obliging, well-disposed, and 
 civil neighbour of mine, who was himself bred to the law, 
 gave me a hint or caution this morning against doing so. 
 It was from him I learned that this youth was liberated 
 and had come abroad, or rather had broken prison. — But 
 where shall we find one to draw the bail-bond ? " 
 
 " Here," said the counsellor, applying himself to the 
 bell, " send up my clerk, Mr. Driver — it will not do my 
 character harm if I dictate the needful myself." It was 
 written accordingly, and signed ; and the Justice having 
 subscribed a regular warrant for Bertram alias Brown's 
 discharge, the visitors took their leave. 
 
 Each threw himself into his own corner of the post- 
 chariot, and said nothing for some time. The Colonel 
 first broke silence : " So you intend to give up this poor 
 young fellow at the first brush ? " 
 
 " Who, I ? " replied the counsellor; "I will not give 
 ap one hair of his head, though I should foUow them to 
 
GUT MANXERING. 271 
 
 the court of last resort in his behalf — but what signified 
 mooting points and showing one's hand to that old ass ? 
 Much better he should report to liis prompter, Glossin, 
 that we are indifferent or lukewarm in the matter. Be- 
 sides, I wished to have a peep at the enemies' game." 
 
 •' Indeed ! " said the soldier. " Then I see there are 
 stratagems in law as well as war. Well, and how do you 
 like their line of battle ? " 
 
 " Ingenious," said Mr. Pleydell, " but I think desper- 
 ate ; they are finessing too much — a common fault on 
 such occasions." 
 
 During this discourse the carriage rolled rapidly towards 
 Woodbourne without anything occurring worthy of the 
 reader's notice, excepting their meeting with young Hazle- 
 wood, to whom the Colonel told the extraordinary history 
 of Bertram's re-appearance, which he heard with high 
 delight, and then rode on before to pay Miss Bertram his 
 compliments on an event so happy and so unexpected. 
 
 We return to the party at Woodbourne. After the 
 departure of Mannering, the conversation related chiefly 
 to the fortunes of the Ellangowan family, their domains, 
 and their former power. " It was, then, under the towers 
 of my fathers," said Bertram, " that I landed some days 
 since, in circumstances much resembling those of a vaga- 
 bond ? Its mouldering turrets and darksome arches even 
 then awakened thoughts of the deepest interest, and rec- 
 ollections which I was unable to decipher. I will now 
 visit them again with other feelings, and, I trust, other 
 and better hopes." 
 
 " Do not go there now," said his sister. " The house 
 of our ancestors is at present the habitation of a wretch 
 as insidious as dangerous, whose arts and villany accom- 
 plished the ruin and broke the heart of our unhappy 
 father." 
 
272 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " You increase my anxiety," replied her brother, " to 
 confront this miscreant, even in the den he has constructed 
 for himself — I think I have seen him." 
 
 " But you must consider," said Julia, " that you are 
 now left under Lucy's guard and mine, and are responsi- 
 ble to us for aU your motions— consider I have not been 
 a lawyer's mistress twelve hours for nothing, and I assure 
 you it would be madness to attempt to go to Ellangowan 
 just now. — The utmost to which I can consent is, that 
 we shall walk in a body to the head of the Woodbourne 
 avenue, and from that perhaps we may indulge you with 
 our company as far as a rising ground in the common, 
 whence your eyes may be blessed with a distant prospect 
 of those gloomy towers, which struck so strongly your 
 sympathetic imagination." 
 
 The party was speedily agreed upon, and the ladies, 
 having taken their cloaks, followed the route proposed, 
 under the escort of Captain Bertram. It was a pleasant 
 winter morning, and the cool breeze served only to 
 freshen, not to chill, the fair walkers. A secret though 
 unacknowledged bond of kindness combined the two 
 ladies ; and Bertram, now hearing the interesting accounts 
 of his own family, now communicating his adventures in 
 Europe and in India, repaid the pleasure which he re- 
 ceived. Lucy felt proud of her brother, as well from the 
 bold and manly turn of his sentiments, as from the dan- 
 gers he had encountered, and the spirit with which he 
 had surmounted them. And Julia, while she pondered 
 on her father's words, could not help entertaining hopes, 
 that the independent spirit which had seemed to her 
 father presumption in the humble and plebeian Brown, 
 would have the grace of courage, noble bearing, and 
 high blood, in the far-descended heir of Ellangowan. 
 
GUY MANNERma. 273 
 
 They reached at length the little eminence or knoll 
 upon the highest part of the common, called Gibbie's- 
 knowe — a spot repeatedly mentioned in this history, aa 
 beins: on the skirts of the Ellancrowan estate. It com- 
 manded a fair variety of hill and dale, bordered with 
 natural woods, whose naked boughs at this season reheved 
 the general colour of the landscape with a dark purple 
 hue ; while in other places the prospect was more for* 
 mally intersected by lines of plantation, where the Scotch 
 firs displayed their variety of dusky green. At the dis- 
 tance of two or three miles lay the bay of EUangowan, 
 its waves rippling under the influence of the western 
 breeze. The towers of the ruined castle, seen high over 
 every object in the neighbourhood, received a brighter 
 colouring from the wintry sun. 
 
 " There," said Lucy Bertram, pointing them out in the 
 distance, " there is the seat of our ancestors. God knows, 
 my dear brother, I do not covet in your behalf the ex- 
 tensive power which the lords of these ruins are said to 
 have possessed so long, and sometimes to have used so 
 ill. But, that I might see you in possession of such 
 relics of their fortune as should give you an honourable 
 independence, and enable you to stretch your hand for 
 the protection of the old and destitute dependents of our 
 family, whom our poor father's death " 
 
 " True, my dearest Lucy," answered the young heir of 
 EUangowan ; " and I trust, with the assistance of Heaven, 
 which has so far guided us, and with that of these good 
 friends, whom their own generous hearts have interested 
 in my behalf, such a consummation of my hard adven- 
 tures is now not unlikely. — But as a soldier, I must look 
 with some interest upon that worm-eaten hold of ragged 
 
 VOL. IV. 18 
 
274 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 stone ; and if this undermining scoundrel, who is now in 
 possession, dare to displace a pebble of it " 
 
 He was here interrupted by Dinmont, who came has- 
 tily after them up the road, unseen till he was near the 
 party : — " Captain, Captain ! ye're wanted — Ye're wanted 
 by her ye ken o'." 
 
 And immediately Meg Merrilies, as if emerging out 
 of the earth, ascended from the hollow way, and stood 
 before them. " I sought ye at the house," she said, " and 
 found but him," (pointing to Dinmont.) "But ye are 
 right, and I was wrang ; it is here we should meet — on 
 this very spot, where my eyes last saw your father. 
 Remember your promise, and follow me." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 275 
 
 CHAPTER Lin. 
 
 To hail the king in seemly sort 
 
 The ladie was full fain, 
 But King Arthur, all sore amazed, 
 
 No answer made again. 
 " What wight art thou," the ladie said, 
 
 " That will not speak to me? 
 Sir, I may chance to ease thy pain. 
 
 Though I be foul to see." 
 
 The Marriage of Sm Gawainb. 
 
 The fairy bride of Sir Gawaine, while under the influ- 
 ence of the spell of her wicked stepmother, was more 
 decrepit probably, and what is commonly called more 
 ugly, than Meg Merrilies ; but I doubt if she possessed 
 that wild sublimity which an excited imagination com- 
 municated to features, marked and expressive in their own 
 pecuhar character, and to the gestures of a form, which, 
 her sex considered, might be termed gigantic. Accord- 
 ingly, the Knights of the Round Table did not recoil with 
 more terror from the apparition of the loathly lady placed 
 between " an oak and a green holly," than Lucy Bertram 
 and Julia Mannering did from the appearance of this 
 Galwegian sibyl upon the common of EUangowan. 
 
 " For God's sake," said Julia, pulling out her purse, 
 "give that dreadful woman sometliing, and bid her go 
 away." 
 
 " I cannot," said Bertram ; " I must not offend her." 
 
 " What keeps you here ? " said Meg, exalting the harslj 
 
276 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 and rough tones of her hollow voice — " why do you not 
 follow ? — Mu^t your hour call you twice ? Do you 
 remember your oath ? — were it at kirk or market, wed- 
 ding or burial," — and she held high her skinny forefinger 
 in a menacing attitude. 
 
 Bertram turned round to his terrified companions. 
 " Excuse me for a moment ; I am engaged by a promist 
 to follow this woman." 
 
 " Good heavens ! engaged to a madwoman ? " said 
 Julia. 
 
 " Or to a gipsy, who has her band in the wood ready 
 to murder you ! " said Lucy. 
 
 " That was not spoken like a bairn of Ellangowan," 
 said Meg, frowning upon Miss Bertram. " It is the ill- 
 doers are ill-di-eaders." 
 
 " In short, I must go," said Bertram — " it is absolutely 
 necessary ; wait for me five minutes on this spot." 
 
 " Five minutes ? " said the gipsy, — " five hours may 
 not bring you here again." 
 
 " Do you hear that ? " said Juha ; " for Heaven's sake 
 do not go ! " 
 
 " I must, I must — ^Mr. Dinmont will protect you back 
 to the house." 
 
 " No," said Meg, " he must come with you — it is for 
 that he is here. He maun take part wi' hand and heart ; 
 and weel his part it is, for redduig his quarrel might have 
 cost you dear." 
 
 " Troth, Luckie, it's very true," said the steady farmer ; 
 " and ere I turn back frae the Captain's side, I'll show 
 that I haena forgotten't." 
 
 " O yes ! " exclaimed both the ladies at once — " let 
 Mr. Dinmont go with you, if go you must on this strange 
 summons." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 277 
 
 " Indeed I must," answered Bertram, " but jou see I 
 am safely guarded — Adieu for a short time ; go home as 
 fast as you can." 
 
 He pressed his sister's hand, and took a yet more affec- 
 tionate farewell of Julia with his eyes. Almost stupefied 
 with surprise and fear, the young ladies watched with 
 anxious looks the course of Bertram, his companion, and 
 their extraordinary guide. Her tall figure moved across 
 the wintry heath with steps so swift, so long, and so 
 steady, that she appeared rather to glide than to walk. 
 Bertram and Dinmont, both tall men, apparently scarce 
 equalled her in heigJit, owing to her longer dress and 
 high head-gear. She proceeded straight across the com- 
 mon, without turning aside to the winding path, by which 
 passengers avoided the inequalities and little rills that 
 traversed it in different directions. Thus the diminishing 
 figures often disappeared from the eye, as they dived into 
 such broken , ground, and again ascended to sight when 
 they were past the hollow. There was something fright- 
 ful and unearthly, as it were, in the rapid and undeviating 
 course which she pursued, undeterred by any of the im- 
 pediments which usually incline a traveller from the direct 
 path. Her way was as straight, and nearly as swift as 
 that of a bird through the air. At length they reached 
 those thickets of natural wood which extended from the 
 skirts of the common towards the glades and brook of 
 Derncleugh, and were there lost to the view. 
 
 " This is very extraordinary ! " said Lucy, after a pause, 
 and turning round to her companion — " What can he have 
 to do with that old hag ? " 
 
 " It is very frightful," answered Julia, " and almost 
 reminds me of the tales of sorceresses, witches, and evil 
 genii, which I have heard in India. They believe there 
 
278 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 is a fascination of the eye, by which those who possess i 
 control the will and dictate the motions of their victims. 
 What c.«in your brother have in common with that fearful 
 woman, that he should leave us, obviously against liis 
 will, to attend to her commands ? " 
 
 " At least," said Lucy, " we may hold him safe from 
 harm ; for she would never have summoned that faithful 
 creature Dinmont, of whose strength, courage, and steadi- 
 ness, Henry said so much, to attend upon an expedition 
 where she projected evil to the person of his friend. And 
 now let us go back to the house till the Colonel returns ; 
 — perhaps Bertram may be back first ; at any rate, the 
 Colonel will judge what is to be done." 
 
 Leaning then upon each other's arm, but yet occasion- 
 ally stumbling, between fear and the disorder of their 
 nerves, they at length reached the head of the avenue, 
 when they heard the tread of a horse behind. They 
 started, for their ears w^ere awake to every sound, and 
 beheld to their great pleasure young Ilazlewood. " The 
 Colonel will be here immediately," he said ; " I galloped 
 on before to pay my respects to Miss Bertram, with the 
 sincerest congratulations upon the joyful event which has 
 taken place in her family. I long to be introduced to 
 Captain Bertram, and to thank him for the well-deserved 
 lesson he gave to my rashness and indiscretion." 
 
 " He has left us just now," said Lucy, " and in a man- 
 ner that has frightened us very much." 
 
 Just at that moment the Colonel's carriage drove up, 
 and, on observing the ladies, stopped, while Mannering 
 and his learned counsel alighted and joined them. They 
 mstantly communicated the new cause of alarm. 
 
 " Meg Merrilies again ! " said the Colonel. " She cer- 
 tainly is a most mysterious and unaccountable personage ; 
 
GUr MANNEEING. 279 
 
 but I think she must have something to impart to Ber- 
 tram, to which vshe does not mean we should be privy." 
 
 " The devil take the bedlamite old woman ! " said the 
 counsellor : " will she not let things take their course^ 
 ^rout de lege, but must always be putting in her oar in 
 her own way ? — Then I fear, from the direction they took, 
 they are going upon the Ellangowan estate. That rascal 
 Glossin has shown us what ruffians he has at his disposal 
 — I wish honest Liddesdale may be guard sufficient." 
 
 " If you please," said Hazlewood, " I should be most 
 happy to ride in the direction which they have taken. I 
 am so well known in the country, that I scarce think any 
 outrage will be offered in my presence, and I shall keep 
 at such a cautious distance as not to appear to watch 
 Meg, or interrupt any communication which she may 
 make." 
 
 " Upon my word," said Pleydell (aside), " to be a sprig, 
 whom I remember with a whey face and a satchel not so 
 very many years ago, I think young Hazlewood grows a 
 fine fellow. — I am more afraid of a new attempt at legal 
 oppression than at open violence, and from that this 
 young man's presence would deter both Glossin and his 
 understrappers. Hie away then, my boy — peer out — 
 peer out ; — you'll find them somewhere about Derncleugh, 
 or very probably in Warroch-wood." 
 
 Hazlewood turned his horse. " Come back to us to 
 dinner, Hazlewood," cried the Colonel. He bowed, 
 spurred his horse, and galloped off. 
 
 We now return to Bertram and Dinmont, who con- 
 tinued to follow their mysterious guide through the woods 
 and dingles, between the open common and the ruined 
 hamlet of Derncleugh. As she led the way, she never 
 looked back upon her followers, unless to chide them for 
 
280 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 loitering, though the sweat, in spite of the season, poured 
 from theii' brows. At other times she spoke to herself in 
 Buch broken expressions as these : — " It is to rebuild the 
 auid house — it is to laj the corner stone — and did I not 
 warn him ? — I tell'd him I was born to do it, if my father's 
 head had been the stepping-stane, let alane his. I was 
 doomed — still I kept my purpose in the cage and in the 
 stocks ; — I was banished — I kept it in an unco land ; — I 
 was scourged — I was branded — ^my resolution lay deeper 
 than scourge or red ii-on could reach — and now the hour 
 is come ! " 
 
 " Captain," said Dinmont, in a half whisper, " I wish 
 she binna uncanny ! her words dinna seem to come in 
 God's name, or like other folk's. Od, they threep in our 
 country that there are sic things." 
 
 " Don't be afraid, my friend," whispered Bertram in 
 return. 
 
 " Fear'd ! fient a haet care I," said the dauntless' 
 farmer ; " be she witch or deevil, it's a' ane to Dandle 
 Dinmont." 
 
 " Hand your peace, gudeman," said Meg, looking 
 sternly over her shoulder ; " is this a time or place for 
 you to speak, think ye ? " 
 
 " But my good friend," said Bertram, " as I have no 
 doubt in your good faith, or kindness, which I have expe- 
 rienced, you should in return have some confidence in me 
 — I wish to know where you are leading us." 
 
 " There's but ae answer to that, Henry Bertram," said 
 the sibyl. — " I swore my tongue should never tell, but I 
 never said my finger should never show. Go on and 
 meet your fortune, or turn back and lose it — that's a' I 
 hae to say." 
 
 '• Go on then," answered Bertram ; " I will ask no 
 more questions." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 281 
 
 They descended into the glen about the same place 
 where Meg had formerly parted from Bertram. She 
 paused an instant beneath the tall rock where he had wit- 
 nessed the burial of a dead body, and stamped upon the 
 ground, which, notwithstanding all the care that had been 
 taken, showed vestiges of having been recently removed. 
 " Here rests ane," she said, " he'll maybe hae neibours 
 sune." 
 
 She then moved up the brook until she came to the 
 ruined hamlet, where, pausing with a look of peculiar and 
 softened interest before one of the gables which was still 
 standing, she said, in a tone less abrupt, though as solemn 
 as before, " Do you see that blackit and broken end of a 
 sheeling ? — There my kettle boiled for forty yeai's — there 
 1 bore twelve buirdly sons and daughters — Where are 
 they now ? — Where are the leaves that were on that auld 
 ash-tree at Martinmas ! — the w^est wind has made it bare 
 — and I'm stripped too. — Do you see that saugh-tree ? — 
 it's but a blackened rotten stump now — I've sat under it 
 mony a bonnie summer afternoon, when it hung its gay 
 garlands ower the poppling water — I've sat there, and " 
 (elevating her voice) " I've held you on my knee, Henry 
 Bertram, and sung ye sangs of the auld barons and their 
 bloody wars — It will ne'er be green again, and Meg Mer- 
 rilies will never sing sangs mair, be they bhthe or sad. 
 But ye'll no forget her ? — and ye'U gar big up the auld 
 wa's for her sake ? — and let somebody live there that's 
 ower gude to fear them of another warld — For if ever 
 the dead came back amang the living, I'll be seen in this 
 glen mony a night after these crazed banes are in the 
 mould." 
 
 The mixture of insanity and wild pathos with which 
 she spoke these last words, with her right arm bare and 
 
282 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 extended, her left bent and shrouded beneath the dark 
 red drapery of her mantle, might have been a studj 
 worthy of our Siddons herself. " And now," she said, re- 
 suming at once the short, stern, and hasty tone which wa& 
 most ordinary to her — " let us to the wark — let us to the 
 wark." 
 
 She then led the way to the promontory on which the 
 Kaim of Derncleugh was situated, produced a large key 
 froin her pocket, and unlocked the door. The interior of 
 this place was in better order than formerly. " I have 
 made things decent," she said ; " I may be streekit here 
 or night. There will be few, few at Meg's lykewake, for 
 mony of our folk will blame what I hae done, and am 
 to do ! " 
 
 She then pointed to a table, upon which was some cold 
 meat, arranged with more attention to neatness than could 
 have been expected from Meg's habits. " Eat," she said, 
 " eat ; — ye'll need it this night yet." 
 
 Bertram, in complaisance, eat a morsel or two ; and 
 Dinmont, whose appetite was unabated either by wonder, 
 apprehension, or the meal of the morning, made his usual 
 figure as a trencher-man. She then offered each a single 
 glass of spirits, which Bertram drank diluted, and his 
 companion plain. 
 
 " Will ye taste naething yoursell, Luckie ? " said Din- 
 mont. 
 
 " I shall not need it," replied their mysterious hostess. 
 " And now," she said, " ye maun hae arms — je maunna 
 gang on dry-handed; — but use them not rashly — take 
 captive, but save life — let the law hae its ain — he maun 
 Bpeak ere he die." 
 
 " Who is to be taken ? — who is to speak ? " said Ber- 
 tram, in astonishment, receiving a pair of pistols which 
 
GUY MANNERING. 283 
 
 she offered him, and which, upon examining, he found 
 loaded and locked. 
 
 " The flints are gude," she said, " and the powder dry 
 — I ken this wark week" 
 
 Then, without answering his questions, she armed Din- 
 mont also with a large pistol, and desired them to choose 
 sticks for themselves, out of a parcel of veiy suspicious- 
 looking bludgeons which she brought from a corner. 
 Bertram took a stout sapling, and Dandie selected a club 
 which might have served Hercules himself. They then 
 left the hut together, and, in doing so, Bertram took an 
 opportunity to whisper to Dinmont, " There's something 
 inexplicable in all this — But we need not use these arms 
 unless we see necessity and lawful occasion — take care to 
 do as you see me do." 
 
 Dinmont gave a sagacious nod ; and they continued to 
 follow, over wet and over dry, through bog and through 
 fallow, the footsteps of their conductress. She guided 
 them to the wood of Warroch by the same track which 
 the late Ellangowan had used when riding to Derncleugh 
 in quest of his child, on the miserable evening of Ken- 
 nedy's murder. 
 
 When Meg Merrilies had attained these groves, 
 through which the wintry sea-wind was now whistHng 
 hoarse and shriU, she seemed to pause a moment as if to 
 recollect the way. " We maun go the precise track," she 
 said, and continued to go forward, but rather in a zigzag 
 and involved course, than according to her former steady 
 and direct line of motion. At length she guided them 
 through the mazes of the wood to a httle open glade of 
 about a quarter of an acre, surrounded by trees and 
 bushes, which made a wild and irregular boundary. 
 Even in winter it was a sheltered and snugly sequestered 
 
284 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 spot ; but when arrayed in tlie verdure of spring, the 
 earth sending forth all its wild flowers, the shrubs spread- 
 ing their waste of blossom around it, and the weeping 
 birches, which towered over the underwood, drooping 
 their long and leafy fibres to mtercept the sun, it must 
 have seemed a place for a youthful poet to study his earli- 
 est sonnet, or a pair of lovers to exchange their first mu- 
 tual avowal of afiection. Apparently it now awakened 
 very different recollections. Bertram's brow, when he 
 had looked round the spot, became gloomy and embar- 
 rassed. Meg, after uttering to herself, " This is the very 
 spot ! " looked at him with a ghastly side-glance, — " D'ye 
 mind it?" 
 
 " Yes ! " answered Bertram, " imperfectly I do." 
 
 " Ay ! " pursued his guide, " on this very spot the man 
 fell from his horse — I was behind that bourtree-bush at 
 the very moment. Sair, sair he strove, and sair he cried 
 for mercy — but he was in the hands of them that never 
 kenn'd the word! — Now will I show you the further 
 track — the last time ye travelled it, was in these arms." 
 
 She led them accordingly by a long and winding pas- 
 sage, almost overgrown with brushwood, until, without 
 any very perceptible descent, they suddenly found them- 
 selves by the sea-side. Meg then walked very fast on 
 between the surf and the rocks, until she came to a re- 
 markable fragment of rock, detached from the rest. 
 " Here," she said, in a low and scarcely audible whisper, 
 ^ here the corpse was found." 
 
 " And the cave," said Bertram, in the same tone, " is 
 close beside it — are you guiding us there ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the gipsy, in a decided tone. " Bend up 
 both your hearts — follow me as I creep in — I have placed 
 the fire-wood so as to screen you. Bide behind it for a 
 
GUT MANNERING. 285 
 
 glrff till I say, The hour and the man are hak \ come ! 
 then rin in on him, take his arms, and bind hini till the 
 blood burst frae his finger nails." 
 
 " I will, by my soul ! " said Henry — " if he is he man 
 I suppose — Jansen ? " 
 
 " Ay, Jansen, Hatteraick, and twenty mair na mes are 
 his." 
 
 " Dinmont, you must stand by me now," said Bertram, 
 " for this fellow is a devil." 
 
 " Ye needna doubt that," said the stout yeoman-—" But 
 I wish I could mind a bit prayer or I creep after the 
 witch into that hole that she's opening — It wad be a sair 
 thing to leave the blessed sun, and the free air, ar^d gang 
 and be killed, like a tod that's run to earth, in a dungeon 
 like that. But, my sooth, they will be hard-bitten t;erriers 
 will worry Dandie ; so, as I said, deil hae me if 1 baulk 
 you." This was uttered in the lowest tone of vo^ce 
 possible. The entrance was now open. Meg crept in 
 upon her hands and knees, Bertram followed, and Din- 
 mont, after giving a rueful glance towards the daylight, 
 whose blessings he was abandoning, brought up the rear 
 
28& WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Die, prophet, in thy speech! 
 
 For this, among the rest, was I ordained. 
 
 He^rt VI. Fart III. 
 
 The progress of the Borderer, who, as we have said, 
 was the last of the party, was fearfully arrested by a 
 hand, which caught hold of his leg as he di-agged hig 
 long hmbs after him in silence and perturbation through 
 the low and narrow entrance of the subterranean passage. 
 The steel heart of the bold yeoman had well-nigh given 
 way, and he suppressed with difficulty a shout, which, in 
 the defenceless posture and situation which they then 
 occupied, might have cost all their Hves. He contented 
 himself, however, with extricating his foot from the grasp 
 of this unexpected follower. " Be still," said a voice 
 behind him, releasing him ; " I am a friend — Charles 
 Hazlewood." 
 
 These words were uttered in a very low voice, but 
 they produced sound enough to staitle Meg MerriHes, 
 who led the van, and who, having already gained the 
 place where the cavern expanded, had risen upon her 
 feet. She began, as if to confound any listening ear, to 
 growl, to mutter, and to sing aloud, and at the same time 
 to make a bustle among some brushwood which was now 
 heaped in the cave. 
 
 " Here — ^beldam — Deyvil's kind," growled the harsh 
 
GUY MANNERING. 287 
 
 voice of Dirk Hatteraick from the inside of his den; 
 " what makest thou there ? " 
 
 " Laying the roughies * to keep the cauld wind frae 
 you, ye desperate do-nae-good — Ye're e'en ower weel off, 
 and wots na ; — it will be otherwise soon." 
 
 " Have you brought me the brandy, and any news of 
 my people ? " said Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " There's the flask for ye. Your people — dispersed — 
 broken — gone — or cut to ribbands by the red coats." 
 
 " Der Dey vil ! — this coast is fatal to me." 
 
 " Ye may hae mair reason to say sae." 
 
 While this dialogue went forward, Bertram and Din- 
 mont had both gained the interior of the cave, and 
 assumed an erect position. The only hght which illu- 
 minated its rugged and sable precincts was a quantity of 
 w^ood burnt to charcoal in an iron grate, such as they use 
 in spearing salmon by night. On these red embers Hat- 
 teraick from time to time threw a handful of twigs or 
 spUntered wood ; but these, even when they blazed up, 
 afforded a Ught much disproportioned to the extent of the 
 cavern ; and, as its principal inhabitant lay upon the side 
 of the grate most remote from the entrance, it was not 
 easy for him to discover distinctly objects which lay in 
 that direction. The intruders, therefore, whose number 
 was now augmented unexpectedly to thi-ee, stood behind 
 the loosely-piled branches with little risk of discovery. 
 Dinmont had the sense to keep back Hazlewood with 
 one hand till he whispered to Bertram, " A friend — ^young 
 Hazlewood." 
 
 It was no time for following up the introduction, and 
 they all stood as still as the rocks around them, obscurea 
 
 * Withered boughs. 
 
V^^AVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 behind the pile of brushwood, which had been probably 
 placed there to break the cold wind from the sea, without 
 totally intercepting the supply of air. The branches 
 were laid so loosely above each other, that, looking 
 through them towards the light of the fire-grate, they 
 could easily discover what passed in its vicinity, although 
 a much stronger degree of illumination than it afforded 
 would not have enabled the persons placed near the 
 bottom of the cave to have descried them in the position 
 which they occupied. 
 
 The scene, independent of the peculiar moral interest 
 and personal danger which attended it, had, from the 
 effect of the light and shade on the uncommon objects 
 which it exhibited, an appearance emphatically dismal. 
 The light in the fire-grate was the dark-red glare of char- 
 coal in a state of ignition, relieved from time to time by 
 a transient flame of a more vivid or duskier light, as the 
 fuel with which Du'k Hatteraick fed his fire was better 
 or worse fitted for his purpose. Now a dark cloud of 
 stifling smoke rose up to the roof of the cavern, and then 
 lighted into a reluctant and sullen blaze, which flashed 
 wavering up the pillar of smoke, and was suddenly 
 rendered brighter and more lively by some drier fuel, or 
 perhaps some splintered fir-timber, which at once con- 
 verted the smoke into flame. By such fitful irradiation, 
 they could see, more or less distinctly, the form of Hat- 
 teraick, whose savage and rugged cast of features, now 
 rendered yet more ferocious by the circumstances of his 
 situation, and the deep gloom of his mind, assorted well 
 with the rugged and broken vault which rose in a rude 
 arch over and around him. The form of Meg Merrilies, 
 which stalked about him, sometimes in the light, some- 
 times partially obscured in the smoke or darkness, con- 
 
GUT MANNERING. 289 
 
 trasted strongly with the sitting figure of Hatteraick as 
 he bent over the flame, and from his stationary posture 
 was constantly visible to the spectator, while that of the 
 female flitted around, appearing or disappearing hke a 
 spectre. 
 
 Bertram felt his blood boil at the sight of Hatteraick. 
 He remembered him well under the name of Jansen, 
 which the smuggler had. adopted after the death of Ken- 
 nedy ; and he remembered also, that this Jansen, and his 
 mate Brown, the same who was shot at Woodbourne, 
 had been the brutal tyrants of his infancy. Bertram 
 knew farther, from piecing his own imperfect recollections 
 with the narratives of Mannering and Pleydell, that this 
 man was the prime agent in the act of violence which 
 tore him from his family and country, and had exposed 
 him to so many distresses and dangers. A thousand 
 exasperating reflections rose within his bosom ; and he 
 could hardly refrain from rushing upon Hatteraick and 
 blowing his brains out. 
 
 At the same time this would have been no safe adven- 
 ture. The flame, as it rose and fell, while it displayed 
 the strong, muscular, and broad-chested frame of the 
 ruffian, glanced also upon two brace of pistols in his belt, 
 and upon the hilt of his cutlass : it was not to be doubted 
 that his desperation was commensurate with his personal 
 strength and means of resistance. Both, iudeed, were 
 inadequate to encounter the combined power of two such 
 men as Bertram himself and his friend Dinmont, without 
 reckoning their unexpected assistant Hazlewood, who was 
 unarmed, and of a slighter make ; but Bertram felt, on a 
 moment's reflection, that there would be neither sense 
 nor valour in anticipating the hangman's office, and he 
 considered the importance of making Hatteraick prisoner 
 
 VOL. IV. 19 
 
290 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 alive ; — he therefore repressed his indignation, and awaited 
 what should pass between the ruffian and his gipsy guide. 
 
 " And how are ye now ? " said the harsh and discor- 
 dant tones of his female attendant ; " Said I not it would 
 come upon you — ay, and in this very cave, where ye har- 
 boured after the deed ? " 
 
 " Wetter and sturm, ye hag ! " replied Hatteraick, 
 " keep your deyvil's matins till they're wanted. — Have 
 you seen Glossin ? " 
 
 " No," rephed Meg Merrilies ; " you've missed your 
 blow, ye blood-spiller ! and ye have nothing to expect 
 from the tempter." 
 
 " Hagel ! " exclaimed the ruffian, " if I had him but by 
 the throat ! — And what am I to do then ? " 
 
 " Do?" answered the gipsy ; — " die like a man, or be 
 hanged like a dog ! " 
 
 " Hanged, ye hag of Satan ! — the hemp's not sown that 
 shall hang me." 
 
 "It's sown, and it's grown, and it's heckled, and it's 
 twisted. Did I not tell ye, when ye wad take away the 
 boy Harry Bertram, in spite of my prayers — did I not 
 say he would come back when he had dree'd his weird in 
 foreign land till his twenty-first year ? — did I not say the 
 auld fire would burn down to a spark, but wad kindle 
 again ? " 
 
 " Well, mother, you did say so," said Hatteraick, in a 
 tone that had something of despair in its accents ; " and 
 donner and blitzen ! I believe you spoke the truth — that 
 younker of Ellangowan has been a rock a-head to me all 
 my life ! — and now, with Glossin's cursed contrivance, my 
 crew have been cut off", my boats destroyed, and I dare 
 say the lugger's taken — there were not men enough left 
 on board to work her, far less to fip-ht her — a dredgre-boat 
 
GUY MANNERING. 291 
 
 might have taken her. And what will the owners say ?:— 
 Hagel and sturm ! I shall never dare go back again to 
 Flushing/' 
 
 " You'll never need," said the gipsy. 
 
 " What are you doing there ? " said her compaDion ; 
 " and what makes you say that ? " 
 
 During this dialogue, Meg was heaping some flax 
 loosely together. Before answer to this question, she 
 dropped a firebrand upon the flax, which had been previ- 
 ously steeped in some spirituous liquor, for it instantly 
 caught fire, and rose in a vivid pyramid of the most 
 brilliant light up to the very top of the vault. As it 
 ascended, Meg answered the ruffian's question in a firm 
 and steady voice :- — " Because the Hour's come, and the 
 Man," 
 
 At the appointed signal, Bertram and Dinmont sprung 
 over the brushwood, and rushed upon Hatteraick. Hazle- 
 wood, unacquainted with their plan of assault, was a 
 moment later. The ruffian, who instantly saw he was 
 betrayed, turned his first vengeance on Meg Merrilies, at 
 whom he discharged a pistol. She fell, with a piercing 
 and dreadful cry, between the shriek of pain and the 
 sound of laughter, when at its highest and most suffix- 
 eating height. " I kenn'd it would be this way," she 
 said. 
 
 Bertram, in his haste, slipped his foot upon the uneven 
 rock which floored the cave ; — a fortunate stumble, for 
 Hatteraick's second buUet whistled over him with so true 
 and steady an aim, that, had he been standing upright, it 
 must have lodged in his brain. Ere the smuggler could 
 draw another pistol, Dinmont closed with him, and 
 endeavoured by main force to pinion down his arms. 
 Such, however, was the wretch's personal strength, joined 
 
292 WAYEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 to the efforts of his despair, that, in spite of the gigantic 
 force with which the Borderer grappled him, he dragged 
 Dmmont through the blazing flax, and had almost suc- 
 ceeded in drawing a third pistol, which might have 
 proved fatal to the honest farmer, had not Bertram, as 
 well as Hazlewood, come to his assistance, when, by main 
 force, and no ordinary exertion of it, they threw Hat- 
 teraick on the ground, disarmed him, and bound him. 
 This scuffle, though it takes up some time in the narra- 
 tive, passed in less than a single minute. When he was 
 fairly mastered, after one or two desperate and almost 
 convulsionary struggles, the ruffian lay perfectly still and 
 silent. " He's gaun to die game ony how," said Dinmont : 
 " weel, I like him na the waur for that." 
 
 This observation honest Dandie made while he was 
 shaking the blazing flax from his rough coat and shaggy 
 black hair, some of which had been singed in the scuffle. 
 " He is quiet now," said Bertram ; — " stay by him, and do 
 not permit him to stir till I see whether the poor woman 
 be alive or dead." With Hazlewood's assistance he raised 
 Meg Merrilies. 
 
 " I kenn'd it would be this way," she muttered, " and 
 it's e'en this way that it should be." 
 
 The ball had penetrated the breast below the throat. 
 It did not bleed much externally ; but Bertram, accus- 
 tomed to see gun-shot wounds, thought it the more alarm- 
 ing. " Good God ! what shall we do for this poor 
 woman ? " said he to Hazlewood, — the circumstances 
 superseding the necessity of previous explanation or in- 
 troduction to each other. 
 
 " My horse stands tied above in the wood," said 
 Hazlewood — " I have been watching you these two hours 
 "—I will ride off for some assistance that may be trusted. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 293 
 
 Meanwhile, you had better defend the mouth of the 
 cavern against every one until I return." He hastened 
 Bertram, after binding Meg Merrilies's wound 
 
 cave with a cocked pistol in his hand ; Dinmont con- 
 tinued to watch Hatteraick, keeping a grasp, hke that 
 of Hercules, on his breast. There was a dead silence in 
 the cavern, only interrupted by the low and suppressed 
 moaning of the woimded female, and by the hard breath- 
 ing of the prisoner. 
 
294 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 For though seduced and led astray 
 Thou'st travelled far and wandered long, 
 
 Thy God hath seen thee all the way, 
 And all the turns that led thee wrong. 
 
 The Hall of Justicse. 
 
 After the space of about three quarters of an hour, 
 which the uncertainty and danger of their situation made 
 seem almost thrice as long, the voice of young Hazlewood 
 was heai'd without. " Here I am," he cried, " with a 
 sufficient party." 
 
 " Come in then," answered Bertram, not a little pleased 
 to find his guard relieved. Hazlewood then entered, fol- 
 lowed by two or thi-ee countrymen, one of whom acted as 
 a peace-officer. They lifted Hatteraick up, and carried 
 him in their arms as far as the entrance of the vault was 
 high enough to permit them ; then laid him on his back, 
 and dragged him along as well as they could, for no per- 
 suasion would induce him to assist the transportation by 
 any exertion of his own. He lay as silent and inactive 
 in their hands as a dead corpse, incapable of opposing, 
 but in no way aiding their operations. When he was 
 dragged into daylight, and placed erect upon his feet 
 among three or four assistants, who had remained with- 
 out the cave, he seemed stupefied and dazzled by the 
 sudden change from the darkness of his cavern. While 
 others were superintending the removal of Meg Mer- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 295 
 
 rilies, those who remained with Hatteraick attempted to 
 make him sit down upon a fragment of rock which lay 
 close upon the high-water mark. A strong shuddering 
 convulsed his iron frame for an instant, as he resisted 
 their purpose. "Not there — Hagel! — you would not 
 make me sit there ? " 
 
 These were the only words he spoke; but their 
 import, and the deep tone of horror in which they 
 were uttered, served to show what was passing in his 
 mind. 
 
 When Meg Merrilies had also been removed from the 
 cavern, with all the care for her safety that circumstances 
 admitted, they consulted where she should be carried. 
 Hazlewood had sent for a surgeon, and proposed that she 
 should be lifted in the meantime to the nearest cottage. 
 But the patient exclaimed with great earnestness, " Na, 
 na, na ! — to the Kaim o' Derncleugh — the Kaim o' Dern- 
 cleugh ; — the spirit will not free itself o' the flesh but 
 there." 
 
 " You must indulge her, I beHeve," said Bertram ; — 
 " her troubled imagination will otherwise aggravate the 
 fever of the wound." 
 
 They bore her accordingly to the vault. On the way 
 her mind seemed to run more upon the scene which had 
 just passed, than on her own approaching death. "There 
 were three of them set upon him ; I brought the twasome 
 — but wha was the third ? — It would be himsell returned 
 to work his ain vengeance ! " 
 
 It was evident that the unexpected appearance of 
 Hazlewood, whose person the outrage of Hatteraick left 
 her no time to recognise, had produced a strong effect on 
 her imagination. She often recurred to it. Hazlewood 
 accounted for his unexpected arrival to Bertram by say- 
 
296 WAVERLEl NOVELS. 
 
 ing that he had kept them in view for some time by the 
 direction of Mannering ; that, observing them disappear 
 into the cave, he had crept after them, meaning to an- 
 nounce himself and his errand, when his hand in the 
 darkness encountering the leg of Dinmont had nearly 
 produced a catastrophe, which, indeed, nothing but the 
 presence of mind and fortitude of the bold yeoman could 
 have averted. 
 
 TVhen the gipsy arrived at the hut, she produced the 
 key ; and when they entered, and were about to deposit her 
 upon the bed, she said in an anxious tone, " Na, na ! not 
 that way — the feet to the east ; " and appeared gi-atified 
 when they reversed her posture accordingly, and placed 
 her in that appropriate to a dead body. 
 
 " Is there no clergyman near," said Bertram, " to assist 
 this unhappy woman's demotions ? " 
 
 A gentleman, the minister of the parish, who had been 
 Charles Hazlewood's tutor, had, with many others, caught 
 the alarm that the murderer of Kennedy was taken on 
 the spot where the deed had been done so many years 
 before, and that a woman was mortally wounded. From 
 curiosity, or rather from the feeling that his duty called 
 him to scenes of distress, this gentleman had come to the 
 Kaim of Derncleugh, and now presented himself. The 
 surgeon ai'rived at the same time, and was about to probe 
 the wound ; but Meg resisted the assistance of either. 
 " It's no what man can do, that will heal my body, or 
 save my spirit. Let me speak what I have to say, and 
 then ye may work your will — I'se be nae hinderance. 
 "But Where's Henry Bertram ? " — The assistants, to 
 whom this name had been long a stranger, gazed upon 
 each other. — " Yes ! " she said, in a stronger and harsher 
 tone, "I said Henry Bertram of EUangowan. Stand 
 from the light and let me see him." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 297 
 
 All ejes were turned towards Bertram, who approached 
 the wretched couch. The wounded woman took hold of 
 Ills hand. " Look at him," she said, " all that ever saw 
 his father or his grandfather ; and bear witness if he is 
 not their living image ? " A murmur went through the 
 crowd — the resemblance was too striking to be denied. 
 " And now hear me — and let that man," pointing to Hat- 
 teraick, who was seated with his keepers on a sea-chest 
 at some distance — " let him deny what I say, if he can. 
 That is Henry Bertram, son to Godfrey Bertram, um- 
 quhile of Ellangowan ; that young man is the very lad- 
 bairn that Dirk Hatteraick carried off from Warroch-wood 
 the day that he murdered the gauger. I was there hke 
 a wandering spirit — for I longed to see that wood or we 
 left the country. I saved the bairn's life, and sair, sair I 
 prigged and prayed they would leave him wi' me — But 
 they bore him away, and he's been lang ower the sea, 
 and now he's come for his ain, and what should withstand 
 him ? I swore to keep the secret till he was ane-an'- 
 twenty — I kenn'd he behoved to dree his weird till that 
 day cam — I keepit that oath which I took to them — ^but 
 I made another vow to mysell, and if I lived to see the 
 day of his return, I would set him in his father's seat, if 
 every step was on a dead man. I have keepit that oath 
 too ; — I will be ae step mysell — he " (pointing to Hat- 
 teraick) " will soon be another, and there will be ane 
 mair yet." 
 
 The clergyman now interposing, remarked it was a 
 pity this deposition was not regularly taken and written 
 down, and the surgeon urged the necessity of examining 
 the wound, previously to exhausting her by questions. 
 
 When she saw them removing Hatteraick, in order to 
 clear the room and leave the surgeon to his operations, 
 
298 TVAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 she called out aloud, raising herself at the same time 
 upon the couch, " Dirk Hatteraick, you and I will never 
 meet again until we are before the judgment-seat — Will 
 ye own to what I have said, or will you dare deny it ? " 
 — He turned his hardened brow upon her, with a look 
 of dumb and inflexible defiance. " Dirk Hatteraick, dare 
 ye deny, with my blood upon your hands, one word of 
 what my dying breath is uttering ? " He looked at her 
 with the same expression of hardihood and dogged stub- 
 bornness, and moved his lips, but uttered no sound. 
 " Then fareweel ! " she said, " and God forgive you ! — 
 your hand has sealed my evidence. When I was in life, 
 I was the mad randy gipsy, that had been scourged, and 
 banished and branded — that had begged from door to 
 door, and been hounded like a stray tike from parish to 
 parish — wha would hae minded her tale ? But now I 
 am a dying woman, and my words will not fall to the 
 ground, any more than the earth will cover my blood ! " 
 
 She here paused, and all left the hut except the surgeon 
 and two or three women. After a very short examina- 
 tion, he shook his head, and resigned his post by the 
 dying woman's side to the clergyman. 
 
 A chaise returning empty to Kippletringan had been 
 stopped on the high-road by a constable, who foresaw it 
 would be necessary to convey Hatteraick to jail. The 
 driver understanding what was going on at Demcleugh, 
 left his horses to the care of a blackguard boy, confiding, 
 it is to be supposed, rather in the years and discretion of 
 the cattle, than in those of their keeper, and set off full 
 speed, to see, as he expressed himself, " whaten a sort o* 
 fun was gaun on." He arrived just as the group of 
 tenants and peasants, whose numbers increased every 
 momcmt, satiated 'with gazing upon the rugged featurf3 
 
GUT MAJ!fNERIN(J. 299 
 
 of Hatteraick, had turned their attention towards Bertram. 
 Ahnost all of them, especially the aged men who had 
 seen EUangowan in his better days, felt and acknowledged 
 the justice of Meg Merrilies's appeal. But the Scotch 
 are a cautious people ; — they remembered there was an- 
 other in possession of the estate, and they as yet only 
 expressed their feelings in low whispers to each other. 
 Our friend Jock Jabos, the postiHon, forced his way into 
 the middle of the circle ; but no sooner cast his eyes upon 
 Bertram, than he started back in amazement, with a 
 solemn exclamation, "As sure as there's breath in man, 
 it's auld EUangowan arisen from the dead ! " 
 
 This public declaration of an unprejudiced witness was 
 just the spark wanted to give fire to the popular feeling, 
 which burst forth in three distinct shouts : — " Bertram 
 forever ! " — " Long life to the heir of EUangowan ! " — 
 " God send him his ain, and to live among us as his 
 forebears did of yore ! " 
 
 " I hae been seventy years on the land," said one 
 person. 
 
 " I and mine hae been seventy and seventy to that,'* 
 said another ; " I have a right to ken the glance of a 
 Bertram." 
 
 " I and mine hae been three hundred years here," said 
 another old man, " and I sail sell my last cow, but I'U see 
 the young laird placed in his right." 
 
 The women, ever delighted Avith the marvellous, and 
 not less so when a handsome young man is the subject of 
 the tale, added their shrill acclamations to the general 
 aU-hail. — " Blessings on him — he's the very picture o' his 
 father ! — ^the Bertrams were aye the wale o' the country 
 side ! " 
 
 " Eh ! that his puir mother, that died in grief and in 
 
300 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 doubt about bim, bad but lived to see tbis day ! ** ex- 
 clauned some female voices. 
 
 "' But we'll belp him to bis ain, kimmers," cried others ; 
 " and before Glossin sail keep the Place of EUangowan, 
 we'll bowk him out o't wi' our nails ! " 
 
 Others crowded around Dinmont, who was nothing 
 loth to tell what be knew of his friend, and to boast the 
 honour which be had in contributing to the discovery. 
 As he was known to several of the principal farmers 
 present, his testimony afforded an additional motive to the 
 general enthusiasm. In short, it was one of those mo- 
 ments of intense feehng, when the frost of the Scottish 
 people melts like a snow-wreath, and the dissolving tor- 
 rent carries dam and dyke before it. 
 
 The sudden shouts interrupted the devotions of the 
 clergyman ; and Meg, who was in one of those dozing 
 fits of stupefaction that precede the close of existence, 
 suddenly started — " Dinna ye hear ? — dinna ye hear ? — ■ 
 he's owned ! — he's owned ! — I Hved but for this. — I am a 
 sinfu' woman ; but if my curse brought it down, my 
 blessing has taen it off! And now I wad bae liked to 
 hae said mair. But it canna be. Stay" — she con- 
 tinued, stretching her head towards the gleam of light 
 that shot through the narrow slit which served for a win- 
 dow — " Is he not there ? — stand out o' the light, and let 
 me look upon him ance mair. But the darkness is in my 
 ain- een," she said, sinking back, after an earnest gaze 
 upon vacuity — " it*s a' ended now, 
 
 Pass breath, 
 Come death ! " 
 
 And, sinking back upon her couch of straw, she expired 
 without a groan. The clergyman and the surgeon care* 
 
GUY MANNERING. 301 
 
 fully noted down all that she had said, now deeply regret- 
 ting they had not examined her more mmutely, but 
 both remaining morally convinced of the truth of her 
 disclosure. 
 
 Hazlewood was the first to compliment Bertram upon 
 the near prospect of his being restored to his name and 
 rank in society. The people around, who now learned 
 from Jabos that Bertram was the person who had 
 "wounded him, were struck with his generosity, and added 
 his name to Bertram's in their exulting acclamations. 
 
 Some, however, demanded of the postilion how he had 
 not recognised Bertram when he saw him some time be- 
 fore at Kippletringan ? — to which he gave the very natu- 
 ral answer — " Hout, what was I thinking about Ellango- 
 w^an then ? — It was the cry that was rising e'en now that 
 the young laird was found, that put me on finding out the 
 likeness. — There was nae missing it ance ane was set to 
 look for't." 
 
 The obduracy of Hatteraick, during the latter part of 
 this scene, was in some slight degree shaken. He was 
 observed to twinkle with his eyelids — to attempt to raise 
 his bound hands for the purpose of pulling his hat over 
 his brow — to look angrily and impatiently to the road, as 
 if anxious for the vehicle which was to remove him from 
 the spot. — At length Mr. Hazlewood, apprehensive that 
 the popular ferment might take a direction towards the 
 prisoner, directed he should be taken to the post-chaise, 
 and so removed to the town of Kippletringan, to be at 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan's disposal ; at the same time he sent an 
 express to warn that gentleman of what had happened. — 
 " And now," he said to Bertram, " I should be happy if 
 you would accompany me to Hazle wood-House ; but as 
 that might not be so agreeable just now as I trust it will 
 
302 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 be in a day or two, you must allow me to return with you 
 to Woodbourne. But you are on foot." — " 0, if the 
 young laird would take my horse ! " — " Or mine " — " Or 
 minej' said half a dozen voices — " Or mine ; he can trot 
 ten mile an hour without whip or spur, and he's the 
 young laird's frae this moment, if he likes to take him for 
 a herezeld,* as they ca'd it lang syne." — Bertram readily 
 accepted the horse as a loan, and poured forth his thanks 
 to the assembled crowd for their good washes, which they 
 repaid with shouts and vows of attacliment. 
 
 While the happy owner was directing one lad to " gae 
 down for the new saddle ; " another, " just to rin the beast 
 ower wi' a dry wisp o' strae ; " a third, " to hie down and 
 borrow Dan Dunkieson's plated stirrups," and expressing 
 his regret " that there was nae time to gie the nag a feed, 
 that the young laird might ken his mettle," — Bertram, 
 taking the clergyman by the arm, walked into the vault, 
 and shut the door immediately after them. He gazed in 
 silence for some minutes upon the body of Meg Merri- 
 lies, as it lay before him, with the features sharpened by 
 death, yet still retaining the stern and energetic character 
 which had maintained in life her superiority as the wild 
 chieftainess of the lawless people amongst whom she was 
 born. The young soldier dried the tears which involun- 
 tarily rose on viewing this wreck of one, who might be 
 said to have died a victim to her fidelity to his person and 
 family. He then took the clergyman's hand, and asked 
 solemnly, if she appeared able to give that attention to 
 his devotions which befitted a departing person. 
 
 * This hard word is placed in the mouth of one of the aged tenants. 
 In the old feudal tenures, the herezeld constituted the best horse or 
 other animal on the vassals' lands, become the right of the superior. 
 The only remnant of this custom is what is called the sasine, or a fee 
 of certain estimated value, paid to the sheriflf of the county who gives 
 possession to the vassjils of the crown. 
 
«JUY MANNERING. 303 
 
 *' My dear sir," said the good minister, " I trust this 
 poor woman had remaining sense to feel and join in the 
 import of my prayers. But let us humbly hope we are 
 judged of by our. opportunities of religious and moral in- 
 struction. In some degree she might be considered as an 
 uninstructed heathen, even in the bosom of a Christian 
 country ; — and let us remember, that the errors and vices 
 of an ignorant life were balanced by instances of disin- 
 terested attachment amounting almost to heroism. To 
 Him, who can alone weigh our crimes and errors against 
 our efforts towards virtue, we consign her with awe, but 
 not without hope." 
 
 " May I request," said Bertram, " that you will see 
 every decent solemnity attended to in behalf of this poor 
 woman ? I have some property belonging to her in my 
 hands — at all events, I will be answerable for the expenso 
 — You will hear of me at Woodbourne." 
 
 Dinmont, who had been furnished with a horse by one 
 of his acquaintance, now loudly called out that all was 
 ready for their return; and Bertram and Hazlewood, 
 after a strict exhortation to the crowd, which was now in- 
 creased to several hundreds, to preserve good order in 
 their rejoicing, as the least ungoverned zeal might be 
 turned to the disadvantage of the young Laird, as they 
 termed him, took their leave amid the shouts of the mul- 
 titude. 
 
 As they rode past the ruined cottages at Demcleugh, 
 Dinmont said, " I'm sure when ye come to your ain, Cap- 
 tain, ye'U no forget to bigg a bit cot-house there ? Deil 
 l>e in me but I wad do't mysell, an it werena in better 
 hands. I wadna like to live in't though, after what she 
 said. Od, I wad put in auld Elspeth, the bedral's widow 
 . — the like o' them's used wi' graves and ghaists, and thae 
 things." 
 
304 WAVERLEy NOVELS. 
 
 A short but brisk ride brought them to Woodboume. 
 The news of their exploit had already flown far and wide, 
 and the whole inhabitants of the vicinity met them on the 
 lawn with shouts of congratulation. ." That you have 
 seen me alive," said Bertram to Lucy, who first ran up to 
 him, though Juha's eyes even anticipated hers, " you must 
 thank these kind friends." 
 
 With a blush expressing at once pleasure, gratitude, 
 and bashfulness, Lucy courtesied to Hazlewood, but to 
 Dinmont she frankly extended her hand. The honest 
 farmer, in the extravagance of his joy, carried his free- 
 dom farther than the hint warranted, for he imprinted his 
 thanks on the lady's lips, and was instantly shocked at the 
 rudeness of his own conduct. " Lord sake, madam, I ask 
 your pardon," he said ; " I forgot but ye had been a bairn 
 o' my ain — the Captain's sae hamely, he gars ane forget 
 himsell." 
 
 Old Pleydell now advanced : " Nay, if fees like these 
 are going," he said 
 
 " Stop, stop, Mr. Pleydell," said Julia, " you had your 
 fees beforehand — remember last night." 
 
 " Why, I do confess a retainer," said the barrister ; 
 " but if I don't deserve double fees from both Miss Ber- 
 tram and you when I conclude my examination of Dirk 
 Hatteraick to-morrow — Gad, I will so supple him ! — You 
 shall see, Colonel ; and you, my saucy Misses, though you 
 may not see, shall hear." 
 
 " Ay, that's if we choose to listen, counsellor," replied 
 Julia. 
 
 " And you think," said Pleydell, " it's two to one you 
 won't choose that ? But you have curiosity that teaches 
 you the use of your ears now and then." 
 
 "I declare, counsellor," answered the lively damsel, 
 
GUT MANNERINO. SO 5 
 
 " that such saucy bachelors as you, would teach us the use 
 of our fingers now and then." 
 
 " Reserve them for the harpsichord, my love," said the 
 counsellor — " Better for all parties/' 
 
 While this idle chat ran on, Colonel Mannering intro- 
 duced to Bertram a plain good-looking man, in a grey 
 coat and waistcoat, buckskin breeches, and boots. " This, 
 my dear sir, is Mr. Mac-Morlan." 
 
 " To whom," said Bertram, embracing him cordially, 
 " my sister was indebted for a home, when deserted by 
 all her natural friends and relations." 
 
 The Dominie then pressed forward, grinned, chuckled, 
 made a diabolical sound in attempting to whistle, and 
 finally, unable to stifle his emotions, ran away to empty 
 the feelings of his heart at his eyes. 
 
 We shall not attempt to describe the expansion of 
 heart and glee of this happy evening. 
 
 vojm it. 
 
30 G WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 How like a hateful ape, 
 
 Detected grinning 'midst his pilfered hoard, 
 A cunning man appears, whose secret frauds 
 
 Are opened to the day ! 
 
 Count Basil. 
 
 There was a great movement at Woodboume early 
 on the following morning, to attend the examination at 
 Kippletringan. Mr. Pleydell, from the investigation 
 which he had formerly bestowed on the dark affair of 
 Kennedy's death, as well as from the general deference 
 due to his professional abilities, was requested by Mr. 
 Mac-Morlan and Sir Robert Hazlewood, and another 
 justice of peace who attended, to take the situation of 
 chairman, and the lead in the examination. Colonel 
 Mannering was invited to sit down with them. The 
 examination, being previous to trial, was private in other 
 respects. 
 
 The counsellor resumed and re-interrogated former 
 evidence. He then examined the clergyman and surgeon 
 respecting the dying declaration of Meg Merrilies. They 
 stated, that she distinctly, positively, and repeatedly, de- 
 clared herself an eye-witness of Kennedy's death by the 
 hands of Hatteraick, and two or three of his crew ; that 
 her presence was accidental; that she believed their 
 resentment at meeting him, when they were in the act of 
 
GUT MANNERING. 307 
 
 losing tlieir vessel through the means of his Infoimation, 
 led to the commission of the crime ; that she said there 
 was one witness of 'the murder, but who refused to par- 
 ticipate in it, still alive, — her nephew, Gabriel Faa ; and 
 she had hinted at another person who was an accessory 
 after, not before, the fact ; but her strength there failed her. 
 Thej did not forget to mention her declaration, that she 
 had saved the child, and that he was torn from her by the 
 smugglers, for the purpose of carrying him to Holland. — 
 All these particulars were carefully reduced to writing. 
 
 Dirk Hatteraick was then brought in, heavily ironed ; 
 for he had been strictly secured and guarded, owing to 
 his former escape. He was asked his name ; he made 
 no answer : — His profession ; he was silent : — Several 
 other questions were put ; to none of which he returned 
 any reply. Pleydell wiped the glasses of his spectacles, and 
 considered the prisoner very attentively. " A very truc- 
 ulent-looking fellow," he whispered to Mannering ; " but, 
 as Dogberry says, I'll go cunningly to work with him. — 
 Here, call in Soles — Soles the shoemaker. — Soles, do you 
 remember measuring some footsteps imprinted on the 
 
 mud at the wood of Warroch, on November 17 — , 
 
 by my orders?" Soles remembered the circumstance 
 perfectly. — " Look at that paper — is that your note of 
 the measurement ? " Soles verified the memorandum. — 
 " Now, there stands a pair of shoes on that table ; measure 
 them, and see if they correspond with any of the marks 
 you have noted there." The shoemaker obeyed, and 
 declared, " that they answered exactly to the largest of 
 the footprints." 
 
 " We shall prove," said the counsellor, aside to Man- 
 nering, " that these shoes, which were found in the ruins 
 at Derncleugh, belonged to Brown, the fellow whom you 
 
308 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 sliot on the lawn at Woodboume. — jSTow, Soles, measure 
 that prisoner's feet very accurately." 
 
 Mannering observed Hatteraick Strictly, and could 
 notice a visible tremour. " Do these measurements cor- 
 respond with any of the foot-prints ? " 
 
 The man looked at the note, then at his foot-rule and 
 measure — then verified his former measurement by a 
 second. " They correspond," he said, " within a hair- 
 breadth, to a foot-mark broader and shorter than the 
 former." 
 
 Hatteraick's genius here deserted him — " Der deyvil ! " 
 he broke out, " how could there be a foot-mai'k on the 
 groimd, when it was a frost as hard as the heart of a 
 Memellog?" 
 
 " In the evening, I grant you. Captain Hatteraick," 
 said Pleydell, " but not in the forenoon — Will you favour 
 me T\dth information where you were upon the day you 
 remember so exactly ? " 
 
 Hatteraick saw his blunder, and again screwed up his 
 hard features for obstinate silence. — " Put down his ob- 
 servation, however," said Pleydell to the clerk. 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and, much to the sur- 
 prise of most present, Mr. Gilbert Glossin made his ap- 
 pearance. That worthy gentleman had, by dint of 
 watching and eaves-dropping, ascertained that he was not 
 mentioned by name in Meg MerriHes's dying declaration 
 — a circumstance certainly not owing to any favourable 
 disposition towards him, but to the delay of taking her 
 regular examination, and to the rapid approach of death. 
 He therefore supposed himself safe from all evidence but 
 such as might arise from Hatteraick's confession ; to pre- 
 vent which, he resolved to push a bold face, and join his 
 brethren of the bench during his examination. — " I shall 
 
GUY MANNERING. 309 
 
 be able," he thought, " to make the rascal sensible his 
 safety lies in keeping His own counsel and mine ; and my 
 presence, besides, will be a proof of confidence and inno- 
 cence. If I must lose the estate, I must^ — but I trust 
 better thmgs." 
 
 He entered with a profound salutation to Sir Robert 
 Ilazlewood. Sir Robert, who had rather begun to sus- 
 pect that his plebeian neighbour had made 'a cat's paw of 
 him, inclined his head stiffly, took snuff, and looked another 
 way. 
 
 " Mr. Corsand," said Glossin to the other yoke-fellow 
 of justice, " your most humble servant." 
 
 " Your humble servant, JMr. Glossin," answered Mr. 
 Corsand, drily, composing his countenance regis ad ex- 
 emplar, — that is to say, after the fashion of the Baronet. 
 
 " Mac-Morlan, my worthy friend," continued Glossin, 
 " how d'ye do — always on your duty ? " 
 
 " Umph," said honest Mac-Morlan, with little respect 
 either to the compHment or salutation. — " Colonel Man- 
 nering," (a low bow slightly returned,) " and Mr. Pley- 
 dell," (another low bow,) " I dared not have hoped for 
 your assistance to poor country gentlemen at this period 
 of the session." 
 
 Pleydell took snuff, and eyed him with a glance equally 
 shrewd and sarcastic — " I'll teach him," he said aside to 
 Mannering, " the value of the old admonition, Ne acces- 
 seris in consilium antequam voceris^ 
 
 " But perhaps I intrude, gentlemen," said Glossin, who 
 could not fail to observe the coldness of his reception — 
 " Is this an open meeting ? " 
 
 " For my part," said JMr. Pleydell, " so far from con- 
 sidering your attendance as an intrusion, JVIr. Glossin, I 
 was never so pleased in my life to meet with you ; espec- 
 
310 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 iallj as I think we should, at any rate, have had occasion 
 to request the favour of your company in the course of 
 the day." 
 
 " Well, then, gentlemen," said Glossin, dramng his 
 chair to the table, and beginning to bustle about among 
 the papers, " where are w^e ? — how far have we got ? 
 where are the declarations ? " 
 
 " Clerk, give me all those papers," said Mr. Pley- 
 dell. — " I have an odd way of arranging my documents, 
 Mr. Glossin — another person touching them puts me out ; 
 — but I shall have occasion for your assistance by and 
 
 by." 
 
 Glossin, thus reduced to inactivity, stole one glance at 
 Dirk Hatteraick, but could read nothing in his dark scowl 
 save malignity and hatred to all around. " But, gentle- 
 men," said Glossin, " is it quite right to keep this poor 
 man so heavily ironed, when he is taken up merely for 
 examination ? " 
 
 This was hoisting a kind of friendly signal to the pris- 
 oner. " He has escaped once before," said Mac-Morlan 
 drily, and Glossin wa- silenced. 
 
 Bertram was now introduced, and, to Glossin's confu- 
 sion, was greeted in the most friendly manner by all 
 present, even by Sir Robert Hazlewood himself. He 
 told his recollections of his infancy with that candour and 
 caution of expression which afforded the best warrant for 
 bis good faith. " This seems to be rather a civil than a 
 criminal question," said Glossin, rising, " and as you 
 cannot be ignorant, gentlemen, of the effect which this 
 young person's pretended parentage may have on my 
 patrimonial interest, I would rather beg leave to retire." 
 
 " No, my good sir," said Mr. Pleydell — " we can by 
 no means spare you. But why do you call this young 
 
GUY MANNERING. 311 
 
 man's claims pretended ? — I don't mean to fish for your 
 defences against them, if jou have any, but " 
 
 " ]VIi\ Pleydell," replied Glossin, " 1 am always dis- 
 posed to act above-board, and I think I can explain the 
 matter at once. This young fellow, whom I take to be a 
 natural son of the late EUangowan, has gone about the 
 country for some weeks under different names, cabalhng 
 with a wretched old mad-woman, who, I understand, w^as 
 shot in a late scuffle, and with other tinkers, gipsies, and 
 persons of that description, and a great brute farmer 
 from Liddesdale, stirring up the tenants against their 
 landlords, which, as Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood 
 knows " 
 
 " Not to interrupt you, Mr. Glossin," said Pleydell, " I 
 ask who you say this young man is ? " 
 
 " Why, I say," repUed Glossin, " and I believe that 
 gentleman " (looking at Hatteraick) " knows that the 
 young man is a natural son of the late EUangowan by 
 a girl called Janet Lightoheel, who was afterwards mar- 
 ried to He wit, the shipwright, that lived in the neighbour- 
 hood of Annan. His name is Godfrey Bertram Hewit, 
 by which name he was entered on board the Royal Caro- 
 line excise yacht." 
 
 " Ay ? " said Pleydell, — " that is a very likely story !■ — ■ 
 but not to pause upon some difference of eyes, complexion 
 and so forth, — be pleased to step forward, sir." — ^A young 
 seafaring man came forward. — " Here," proceeded the 
 counsellor, " is the real Simon Pure — here's Godfrey 
 Bertram Hewit, arrived last night from Antigua via 
 Liverpool, mate of a West Indian, and in a fair way of 
 doing well in the world, although he came somewhat 
 irregularly into it." 
 
 While some conversation passed between the other 
 
312 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 justices and this young man, Pleydell lifted from among 
 the papers on the table Hatteraick's old pocket-book. A 
 peculiar glance of the smuggler's eye induced the shrewd 
 lawyer to think there was something here of interest. 
 He therefore continued the examination of the papers, 
 laying the book on the table, but instantly perceived that 
 the prisoner's interest in the research, had cooled. — " It 
 must be in the book still, whatever it is," thought Pley- 
 dell ; and again applied himself to the pocket-book, until 
 he discovered, on a narrow scrutiny, a slit, between the 
 pasteboard and leather, out of which he drew three small 
 slips of paper. Pleydell now, turning to Glossin, re- 
 quested the favour that he would tell them if he had 
 assisted at the search for the body of Kennedy, and the 
 child of his patron, on the day when they disappeared." 
 
 " I did not — that is — I did," answered the conscience- 
 struck Glossin. 
 
 " It is remarkable, though," said the advocate, " that 
 connected as you were with the Ellangowan family, I 
 don't recollect your being examined, or even appearing 
 before me, while that investigation was proceeding "i " 
 
 " I was called to London," answered Glossin, " on most 
 miportant business, the morning after that sad affair." 
 
 " Clerk," said Pleydell, " minute down that reply. — I 
 presume the business, Mr. Glossin, was to negociate these 
 three bills, drawn by you on Messrs. Vanbeest and Yan- 
 bruggen, and accepted by one Dirk Hatteraick in their 
 name, on the very day of the murder. I congratulate 
 you on their being regularly retired, as I perceive they 
 have been. I think the chances were against it." Glos- 
 ein's countenance fell. "This piece of real evidence," 
 continued Mr. Pleydell, " makes good the account given 
 of your conduct on this occasion by a man called Gabriel 
 
GUT MAIS^NERING. 313 
 
 Faa, wliom we liave now in custody, and who witnessed 
 the whole transaction between you and that worthy pris- 
 oner — Have you any explanation to give ? " 
 
 "Mr. Pleydell," said Glossin with great composure, 
 *' I presume, if you were my counsel, you would not ad- 
 vise me to answer upon the spur of the moment to a 
 charge, which the basest of mankmd seem ready to 
 establish by perjury." 
 
 " My advice," said the counsellor, " would be regulated 
 by my opinion of your innocence or guilt. In your case, 
 I believe you take the wisest course ; but you are aware 
 you must stand committed ? " 
 
 " Committed ? — for what, sir? " replied Glossin ; " upon 
 a charge of murder ? " 
 
 " No ; only as art and part of kidnapping the child." 
 
 " That is a bailable offence." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Pleydell, " it is plagium, and pla- 
 gium is felony." 
 
 " Forgive me, Mr. Pleydell ; — ^there is only one case 
 upon record, Torrence and Waldie. They were, you 
 remember, resurrection-women, who had promised to 
 procure a child's body for some young surgeons. Being 
 upon honour to their employers, rather than disappoint 
 the evening lecture of the students, they stole a live child, 
 murdered it, and sold the body for three shillings and six- 
 I)ence. — They were hanged, but for the murder, not for 
 the plagium."^ Your civil law has carried you a little too 
 far." 
 
 " "Well, sir ; — ^but, in the meantime, Mr. Mac-Morlan 
 must commit you to the county jail, in case this young 
 man repeats the same story. — Officers, remove Mr. 
 
 * This is, in its circurastances and issue, actually a case tried and 
 "epoi-ted . 
 
314 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Glossin and Hatteraick, and guard them in different 
 apartments." 
 
 Gabriel, the gipsy, was then introduced, and gave a 
 distinct account of his deserting from Captain Pritchard's 
 vessel and joining the smugglers in the action ; detailed 
 how Dirk Hatteraick set fire to his ship when he found 
 her disabled, and under cover of the smoke escaped with 
 his crew, and as much goods as they could save, into the 
 cavern, where they proposed to lie till night-fall. Hat- 
 teraick himself, his mate Yanbeest Brown, and three 
 others, of whom the declarant was one, went into the 
 adjacent woods to communicate with some of their friends 
 in the neighbourhood. They fell in with Kennedy unex- 
 pectedly, and Hatteraick and Brown, aware that he was 
 the occasion of their disasters, resolved to murder him. 
 He stated, that he had seen them lay violent hands on 
 the officer, and drag him through the woods, but had not 
 partaken in the assault, nor witnessed its termination. 
 That he returned to the cavern by a different route, 
 where he again met Hatteraick and his accomplices ; and 
 the captain was in the act of giving an account how hf; 
 and Brown had pu>hed a huge crag over, as Kennedy 
 lay groaning on the beach, when Glossin suddenly ap- 
 peared among them. To the whole transaction by which 
 Hatteraick purchased his secrecy he was witness. Re- 
 specting young Bertram he could give a distinct account 
 till he went to India, after which he had lost sight of him 
 until he unexpectedly met with him in Liddesdale. 
 Gabriel Faa farther stated, that he instantly sent notice 
 to his aunt Meg Merrilies, as weU as to Hatteraick, who 
 he knew was then upon the coast ; but that he had in- 
 curred his aunt's displeasure upon the latter account. He 
 concluded, that his aunt had immediately declared th&t 
 
GUY MANNERING. 315 
 
 she would do all that lay in her power to help joung 
 EUangowan to his right, even if it should be by informing 
 against Dirk Ilatteraick ; and that many of her people 
 assisted her besides himself, from a belief that she was 
 gifted with supernatural inspirations. With the same 
 purpose, he understood, his aunt had given to Bertram 
 the treasure of the tribe, of which she had the custody. 
 Three or four gipsies, by the express command of Meg 
 Merrihes, had mingled in the crowd when the Custom- 
 house was attacked, for the purpose of liberating Bertram, 
 which he had himself effected. He said, that in obeying 
 Meg's dictates they did not pretend to estimate their 
 propriety or rationality ; the respect in which she was 
 held by her tribe precluding all such subjects of specula- 
 tion. Upon farther interrogation, the witness added, that 
 his aunt had always said that Harry Bertram carried 
 that round his neck which would ascertain his birth. It 
 was a spell, she said, that an Oxford scholar had made 
 for him, and she possessed the smugglers with an opinion, 
 that to deprive him of it would occasion the loss of the 
 vessel. 
 
 Bertram here produced a small velvet bag, which he 
 said he had worn round his neck from his earliest infancy, 
 and which he had preserved,— first from superstitious 
 reverence, — and latterly, from the hope that it might 
 serve one day to aid in the discovery of his birth. The 
 bag being opened, was found to contain a blue silk case, 
 from which was drawn a scheme of nativity. Upon in- 
 specting this paper, Colonel Mannering instantly admitted 
 it was his own composition, and afforded the strongest 
 and most satisfactory evidence, that tlie possessor of it 
 must necessarily be the young heir of EUangowan, by 
 avowing his having first appeared in that country in the 
 character of an astrologer. 
 
316 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " And now," said Pie jdell, " make out warrants of com- 
 mitment for Hatteraick and Glossin until liberated in 
 due course of law. Yet," he said, " I am sorry for 
 Glossin." 
 
 '" Xow, I think," said Mannering, " he's incomparably 
 the least deserving of pity of the two. The other's a 
 bold fellow, though as hard as flint." 
 
 " Very natural. Colonel," said the advocate, " that you 
 should be interested in the ruffian, and I in the knave — 
 that's all professional taste ; but I can tell you, Glossin 
 would have been a pretty lawyer, had he not had such a 
 turn for the roguish part of the profession." 
 
 " Scandal would say," observed Mannering, " he might 
 not be the worse lawyer for that." 
 
 " Scandal would tell a lie, then," rephed Pleydell, " as 
 she usually does. Law's like laudanum ; it's much more 
 easy to use it as a quack does, than to learn to apply it 
 like a physician." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 817 
 
 CHAPTER LVn. 
 
 Unfit to live or die — marble heart 
 After him, fellows, drag him to the block. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 The jail at the county town of the shire of 
 
 was one of those old-fashioned dungeons which disgraced 
 Scotland until of late years. When the prisoners and 
 their guard arrived there, Hatteraick, whose violence and 
 strength were well known, was secured in what was 
 called the condemned ward. This was a large apartment 
 near the top of the prison. A round bar of iron, about 
 the thickness of a man's arm above the elbow, crossed 
 the apartment horizontally at the height of about six 
 inches from the floor ; and its extremities were strongly 
 built into the wall at either end.* Hatteraick's ankles 
 were secured within shackles, which were connected by a 
 chain at the distance of about four feet, with a large iron 
 ring, which travelled upon the bar we have described. 
 Thus a prisoner might shuffle along the length of the 
 bar from one side of the room to another, but could not 
 
 * This mode of securing prisoners was universally practised in 
 Scotland after condemnation. When a man received sentence of 
 death, he was put upon the Gad., as it was called, that is, secured to 
 the bar of iron in the manner mentioned in the text. The practice 
 subsisted in Edinburgh till the old jail was taken down some yeara 
 since, and perhaps may be still in use. 
 
318 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 retreat farther from it in any other direction than the 
 brief length of the chain admitted. When his feet had 
 been thus secured, the keeper removed his hand-cuffs, 
 and left his person at liberty in other respects. A pallet- 
 bed was placed close to the bar of iron, so that the 
 shackled prisoner might lie down at pleasure, still fast- 
 ened to the iron-bar in the manner described. 
 
 Hatteraick had not been long in this place of confine- 
 ment, before Glossin arrived at the same prison-house. 
 In respect to his comparative rank and education, he was 
 not ironed, but placed in a decent apartment, under the 
 inspection of Mac-Guffog, who, since the destruction of 
 the Bridewell of Portanferry by the mob, had acted here 
 as an under-turnkey. When Glossin was enclosed within 
 this room, and had solitude and leisure to calculate all 
 the chances against him and in his favour, he could not 
 prevail upon himself to consider the game as desperate. 
 
 " The estate is lost," he said, " that must go ; — and, 
 between Pleydell and Mac-Morlan, the/11 cut down my 
 claim on it to a trifle. My character — but if I get off 
 with life and liberty, I'll win money yet, and varnish that 
 over again. I knew not the ganger's job until the rascal 
 had done the deed, and though I had some advantage by 
 the contraband, that is no felony. But the kidnapping 
 of the boy — there they touch me closer. Let me see : — 
 This Bertram was a child at the time — his evidence must 
 be imperfect — the other fellow is a deserter, a gipsy, and 
 an outlaw — Meg Merrilies, d — n her, is dead. These 
 infernal bills ! Hatteraick brought them with him, I 
 Suppose, to have the means of threatening me, or extort- 
 ing money from me. I must endeavour to see the rascal- 
 must get him to stand steady — must persuade him to put 
 some other colour upon the business." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 319 
 
 His mind teeming witli schemes of future deceit to 
 cover former villanj, he spent the time in arranging and 
 combining them until the hour of supper. Mac-Guffog 
 attended as turnkey on this occasion. He was, as we 
 know, the old and special acquaintance of the prisoner 
 \^ ho was now under his charge. After giving the turn- 
 key a glass of brandy, and sounding him with one or two 
 cajoling speeches, Glossin made it his request that he 
 would help him to an interview with Dirk Hatteraick. — 
 " Impossible ! utterly impossible ! — it's contrary to the 
 express orders of Mr. Mac-Morlan, and the captain " (as 
 the head jailor of a county jail is called in Scotland) 
 " would never forgie me." 
 
 " But why should he know of it ? " said Glossin, slip- 
 ping a couple of guineas into Mac-Guffog's hand. 
 
 The turnkey weighed the gold, and looked sharp at 
 Glossin. — " Ay, ay, Mr. Glossin, ye ken the ways o' this 
 place. Lookee, at lock-up hour, I'll return and bring ye 
 up stairs to him — But ye must stay a' night in his cell, 
 for I am under needcessity to carry the keys to the 
 captain for the night, and I cannot let you out again until 
 morning — then I'll visit the wards half an hour earlier 
 than usual, and ye may get out, and be snug in your ain 
 birth when the captain gangs his rounds." 
 
 When the hour of ten had pealed from the neighbour- 
 ing steeple, Mac-GufFog came prepared with a small dark 
 lantern. He said softly to Glossin, " Slip your shoes off, 
 and follow me." When Glossin was out of the door, 
 Mac-Guffog, as if in the execution of his ordinary duty, 
 and speaking to a prisoner within, called aloud, " Good 
 night to you, sir," and locked the door, clattering the 
 bolts with much ostentatious noise. He then guided 
 Glossin up a steep and narrow stair, at the top of which 
 
320 WAYERLET N0YEL9. 
 
 was the door of the condemned ward ; he unbarj-ed and 
 unlocked it, and giving Glossin the lantern, made a sign to 
 him to enter, and locked the door behind him with the 
 same affected accuracy. 
 
 In the large dark cell into which he was thus intro- 
 duced, Glossin's feeble light for some time enabled him 
 to discover nothing. At length he could dimlj distinguish 
 the pallet-bed stretched on the floor beside the great iron 
 bar which traversed the room, and on that pallet reposed 
 the figure of a man. Glossin approached him — " Dirk 
 Hatteraick ! " 
 
 '' Donner and hagel ! it is his voice," said the prisoner, 
 sitting up and clashing his fetters as he rose : " then my 
 dream is true ! Begone, and leave me to myself — it will 
 be your best." 
 
 " What ! my good friend," said Glossin, " will you 
 allow the prospect of a few weeks' confinement to depress 
 your spirit ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered the ruffian, sullenly — " when I am 
 only to be released by a halter ! — Let me alone — go about 
 your business, and turn the lamp from my face." 
 
 " Psha ! my dear Dii-k, don't be afraid," said Glossin ; 
 " I have a glorious plan to make all right." 
 
 " To the bottomless pit with your plans ! " repHed his 
 accomphce. " You have planned me out of ship, cargo, 
 and life ; and I dreamt this moment that Meg Merrilies 
 di-agged you here by the hair, and gave me the long 
 clasped knife she used to wear. You don't know what 
 she said — Sturm wetter ! it will be your wisdom not to 
 tempt me ! " 
 
 " But, Hatteraick, my good friend, do but rise and speak 
 to me," said Glossin. 
 
 " I will not ! " answered the savage, doggedly — " you 
 
GUY MANNERING. 321 
 
 have caused all the mischief; you would not let Meg 
 keep the boy — she would have returned him after he had 
 forgot all." 
 
 " Why, Hatteraick, you are turned driveller ! " 
 
 " Wetter ! will you deny that all that cursed attempt 
 at Portanferry, which lost both sloop and crew, was youi* 
 device for your own job ? " 
 
 " But the goods, you know " 
 
 " Curse the goods ! " said the smuggler, — " we could 
 have got plenty more ; but, der dey vil ! to lose the ship 
 and the fine fellows, and my own life, for a cursed coward 
 villain, that always works his own mischief with other 
 people's hands ! Speak to me no more — I'm dangerous." 
 
 "But, Dirk — but, Hatteraick, hear me only a few 
 words." 
 
 "Hagel! nein!" 
 
 " Only one sentence." 
 
 " Tausand curses ! nein ! " 
 
 " At least get up, for an obstinate Dutch brute ! " said 
 Glossin, losing his temper, and pushing Hatteraick with 
 his foot. 
 
 " Donner and blitzen ! " said Hatteraick, springing up 
 and grappHng with him — " you will have it then ? " 
 
 Glossin struggled and resisted ; but, owing to his sur- 
 prise at the fury of the assault, so ineffectually, that he 
 fell under Hatteraick, the back part of his neck coming 
 full upon the iron bar with stunning violence. The death- 
 grapple continued. The room immediately below the 
 condemned ward, being that of Glossin, was, of course, 
 empty ; but the inmates of the second apartment beneath 
 felt the shock of Glossin's heavy fall, and heard a noise 
 as of struggluig and of groans. But all sounds of horror 
 
 VOL. IV. 21 
 
322 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 
 
 were too congenial to tliis place to excite mucli curiosity 
 or interest. 
 
 In the morning, faithful to his promise, Mac-Guffog 
 came — " ]SIr. Glossin," said he, in a whispering voice. 
 
 " Call louder," answered Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " Mr. Glossin, for God's sake come away ! " 
 
 " He'll hardly do that without help," said Hatteraick. 
 
 '' What are you chattering there for, Mac-Guffog ? " 
 called out the captain from below. 
 
 " Come away, for God's sake, Jilr. Glossin ! " repeated 
 the turnkey. 
 
 At this moment the jailor made his appearance with a 
 hght. Great was his sui-prise, and even horror, to observe 
 Glossin's body lying doubled across the iron bar, in a pos- 
 ture that excluded all idea of his being alive. Hatteraick 
 was quietly stretched upon his pallet within a yard of his 
 victim. On lifting Glossin, it was found he had been 
 dead for some hours. His body bore uncommon marks 
 of violence. The spine, where it joins the skull, had 
 received severe injury by his first fall. There were dis- 
 tinct mai'ks of strangulation about the throat, which cor- 
 responded Avith the blackened state of his face. The 
 head was turned backward over the shoulder, as if the 
 neck had been wrung round with desperate violence. So 
 that it would seem that his inveterate antagonist had fixed 
 a fatal gripe upon the wretch's throat, and never quitted 
 it while life lasted. The lantern, crushed and broken to 
 pieces, lay beneath the body. 
 
 Mac-Morlan was in the town, and came instantly to 
 examine the corpse. — " What brought Glossin here ? " be 
 paid to Hatteraick. 
 
 " The devil ! " answered the ruffian. 
 
 ^ And what did you do to him ? " 
 
GUY jyiANNERING. 323 
 
 . •' Sent liim to hell before me," replied the miscreant. 
 
 " Wretch ! " said Mac-Morlan, " you have crowned a 
 life spent without a single virtue, with the murder of your 
 own miserable accomplice ! " 
 
 " Virtue ? " exclaimed the prisoner — " Donner ! I was 
 always faithful to my ship-owners — always accounted for 
 cargo to the last stiver. Hark ye ! let me have pen and 
 ink, and I'll write an account of the whole to our house ; 
 and leave me alone a couple of hours, will ye — and let 
 them take away that piece of carrion, donner wetter ! " 
 
 Mac-Morlan deemed it the best way to humour the 
 savage ; he was furnished with writing materials, and left 
 alone. When they again opened the door, it was found 
 that this determined villain had anticipated justice. He 
 had adjusted a cord taken from the truckle-bed, and 
 attached it to a bone, the relic of his yesterday's dinner, 
 which he had contrived to drive into a crevice between 
 two stones in the wall, at a height as great as he could 
 reach standing upon the bar. Having fastened the noose, 
 he had the resolution to drop his body as if to fall on his 
 knees, and to retain that posture until resolution was no 
 longer necessary. The letter he had written to his own- 
 ers, though chiefly upon the business of their trade, con- 
 tained many allusions to the younker of Ellangowan, as 
 he called him, and afforded absolute confirmation of all 
 Meg MerriHes and her nephew had told. 
 
 To dismiss the catastrophe of these two wretched men, 
 I shall only add, that Mac-Guffog was turned out of office, 
 notwithstanding his declaration, (which he offered to attest 
 by oath,) that he had locked Glossin safely in his own 
 room upon the night preceding his being found dead in 
 Dirk Hatteraick's cell. His story, however, found faith 
 with the worthy Mr. Skriegh, and other lovers of the 
 
324 
 
 •WA7ERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 marvellous, who still hold that the Enemy of Mankind 
 brought these two wretches together upon that night, by 
 supernatural interference, that they might fill up the 
 cup of their guilt and receive its meed, by murder and 
 suicide. 
 
GUY MANNEEING. 325 
 
 CHAPTER LVni. 
 
 To sum the whole — the close of all. 
 
 Dean Swut. 
 
 As Glossin died without heirs, and without payment 
 of the price, the estate of Ellangowan was again thrown 
 upon the hands of Mr. Godfrey Bertram's creditors, the 
 right of most of whom was however defeasible, in case 
 Henry Bertram should establish his character of heir of 
 entail. This young gentleman put his affairs into the 
 hands of Mr. Pleydell and Mr. Mac-Morlan, with one 
 single proviso, that though he himself should be obliged 
 again to go to India, every debt, justly and honourably 
 due by his father, should be made good to the claimant. 
 Mannering, who heard this declaration, grasped him kindly 
 by the hand, and from that moment might be dated a 
 thorough understanding between them. 
 
 The hoards of Miss Margaret Bertram, and the liberal 
 Assistance of the Colonel, easily enabled the heir to 
 make provision for payment of the just creditors of his 
 father ; — while the ingenuity and research of his law 
 friends detected, especially in the accounts of Glossin, so 
 many overcharges as greatly diminished the total amount. 
 In these circumstances, the creditors did not hesitiite to 
 recognise Bertram's right, and to surrender to him the 
 house and property of his ancestors. All the party re- 
 paired from Woodbourne to take possession, amid the 
 
 21* 
 
826 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 shouts of the tenantry and the neighbourhood; and so 
 eager was Colonel Mannering to superintend certain im- 
 provements which he had recommended to Bertram, that 
 he removed with his family from Woodbourne to EUan- 
 gowan, although at present containing much less and 
 much inferior accommodation. 
 
 The poor Dominie's brain was almost turned with joy 
 on returning to his old habitation. He posted up stairs, 
 taking three steps at once, to a httle shabby attic, his cell 
 and dormitory in former days, and which the possession 
 of his much superior apartment at Woodbourne had never 
 banished from his memory. Here one sad thought sud- 
 denly struck the honest man — the books ! — no three rooms 
 in EUangowan were capable to contain them. While this 
 qualifying reflection was passing through his mind, he was 
 suddenly summoned by Mannering to assist in calculating 
 some proportions relating to a large and splendid house, 
 which was to be built on the site of the New Place of 
 EUangowan, in a style corresponding to the magnificence 
 of the ruins in its vicinity. Among the various rooms in 
 the plan, the Dominie observed that one of the largest 
 was entitled The Library ; and close beside was a 
 snug well-proportioned chamber, entitled IMr. Sampson's 
 Apartment. — " Prodigious, prodigious, prodigious ! " 
 shouted the enraptured Dominie. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell had left the party for some time ; but he 
 returned, according to promise, during the Christmas 
 recess of the courts. He di'ove up to EUangowan when 
 all the family were abroad but the Colonel, who was busy 
 with plans of buildings and pleasure-grounds, in which 
 he was weU skilled, and took great deUght. 
 
 " Ah ha ! " said the counsellor, — " so here you are ! 
 Where are the ladies ? where is the fair Julia ? " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 327 
 
 ** Walking out with young Hazlewood, Bertram, and 
 Captain Delaserre, a friend of his, who is with us just 
 now. They are gone to plan out a cottage at Derncleugh. 
 Well, have you carried through your law business ? " 
 
 " With a wet finger," answered the lawyer ; " got our 
 youngster's special service retoured into Chancery. We 
 had him served heir before the macers." 
 
 " Macers ? who are they ? " 
 
 " Why, it is a kind of judicial Saturnalia. You must 
 know, that one of the requisites to be a macer, or officer 
 in attendance upon our supreme court, is, that they shall 
 be men of no knowledge." 
 
 " Very well ! " 
 
 " Now, our Scottish legislature, for the joke's sake I 
 suppose, have constituted those men of no knowledge into 
 a peculiar court for trying questions of relationship and 
 descent, such as this business of Bertram, which often 
 involve the most nice and complicated questions of 
 evidence." 
 
 "The devil they have? — I should think that rather 
 inconvenient," said Mannering. 
 
 " O, we have a practical remedy for the theoretical 
 absurdity. One or two of the judges act upon such oc- 
 casions as prompters and assessors to their own door- 
 keepers. But you know what Cujacius says, Multa sunt 
 in moribus dissentanea, multa sine ratione.* However, 
 this Saturnalian court has done our business ; and a glo- 
 rious batch of claret we had afterwards at Walker's — 
 Mac-Morlan will stare when he sees the bill." 
 
 " Never fear," said the Colonel ; " we'll face the shock, 
 and entertain the county at my friend Mrs. Mac-Candlish's 
 to boot." 
 
 * The singular inconsistency hinted at is now, in a greut degree 
 removed. 
 
328 WAVERLET NOVELS. * 
 
 " And choose Jock Jabos for jour master of horse ? " 
 replied the lawyer. 
 
 " Perhaps I may." 
 
 " And where is Dandie, the redoubted Lord of Liddes* 
 dale ? " demanded the advocate. 
 
 " Returned to his mountains ; but he has promised 
 Juha to make a descent in summer, with the goodwife, as 
 he calls her, and I don't know how many children." 
 
 " O, the curlie-headed varlets ! — I must come to play 
 at Blind Harry and Hy Spy with them. — But what is all 
 this ? " added Pleydell, taking up the plans ; — " tower in 
 the centre to be an imitation of the Eagle Tower at 
 Caernarvon — corps de logis — ^the devil 1 — wings — swings ? 
 why, the house will take the estate of Ellangowan on its 
 back, and fly away with it ! " 
 
 " Why then, we must ballast it with a few bags of 
 Sicca rupees," repHed the Colonel. 
 
 " Aha ! sits the wind there ? Then I suppose the 
 young dog carries off my mistress Julia ? " 
 
 " Even so, counsellor." 
 
 " These rascals, the post-nati, get the better of us of 
 the old school at every turn," said Mr. Pleydell. " But 
 she must convey and make over her interest in me to 
 Lucy." 
 
 " To teU you the truth, I am afraid your flank will be 
 turned there too," replied the Colonel. 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 " Here has been Sir Robert Hazlewood," said Manner- 
 ing, " upon a visit to Bertram, thinking, and deeming, 
 and opining " 
 
 " O Lord ! pray spare me the worthy baronet's triads ! ** 
 
 " Well, sir," continued Mannering ; " to make short, he 
 conceived that as the property of Singleside lay like a 
 
GUY MAKNEHING. 3^& 
 
 wedge between two farms of his, and was four or jSve 
 miles separated from Ellangowan, something like a sale, 
 or exchange, or arrangement might take place, to the 
 mutual convenience of both parties." 
 
 " Well, and Bertram " — 
 
 " Why, Bertram replied, that he considered the orig- 
 inal settlement of Mrs. Margaret Bertram as the arrange- 
 ment most proper in the circumstances of the family, and 
 that therefore the estate of Singleside was the property 
 of his sister." 
 
 " The rascal ! " said Pleydell, wiping his spectacles, 
 "he'll steal my heart as well as my mistress — Et 
 puis ? " 
 
 " And then Sir Robert retired, after many gracious 
 speeches ; but last week he again took the field in force, 
 with his coach and six horses, his laced scarlet waistcoat, 
 and best bob-wig — all very grand, as the good-boy books 
 say." 
 
 " Ah ! and what was his overture ? " 
 
 " Wliy he talked in gi-eat form of an attachment on the 
 part of Charles Hazlewood to Miss Bertram." 
 
 " Ay, ay ; he respected the httie god Cupid when he 
 saw him perched on the Dun of Singleside. And is poor 
 Lucy to keep house with that old fool and his wife, who 
 is just the knight himself in petticoats ? " 
 
 "No — we parried that. Singleside-House is to be 
 repaired for the young people, and to be called hereafter 
 Mount Hazlewood." 
 
 " And do you yourself. Colonel, propose to continue at 
 Woodboume ? " 
 
 " Only till we carry these plans into effect. See, here's 
 the plan of my Bungalow, with all convenience for being 
 .separate and sulky when I please." 
 
330 
 
 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " And, being situated, as I see, next door to the old 
 castle, you may repair Donagild's tower for the nocturnal 
 contemplation of the celestial bodies ? Bravo, Colonel ! " 
 
 " No, no, my dear counsellor ! Here ends The As- 
 trologer." 
 
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