THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 x823 
 
 ScoQro 
 VI 
 
W' 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/robroy01sco 
 
ROB ROY. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 .UTHOR OF '* WAVERLEY," " GUY MAXNERING," AND 
 " THE ANTIQUARY.'* 
 
 For why ? Because the good old nile 
 Sufficeth them ; the simple plan, 
 That they should take, who have the power, 
 And they should keep who can. 
 
 Eoh Roy's Gratr.— WoRDSWORTH. 
 
 IX THREE V0LU3IES, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 Printed by James BcUlantyne and Co. 
 
 (TOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. EDINBURGH ; ANET 
 
 LONGMAN, HURSTj REES, ORME, AND BROWN, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 1818. 
 

 

 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 When the Editor of the following 
 volumes published, about two years 
 since, the work called " The Antiqua- 
 ry," he announced that he was, for the 
 last time, intruding upon the public 
 in his present capacity. He might 
 shelter himself under the plea, that 
 every anonymous writer is, like the 
 celebrated Junius, only a phantom, 
 and that therefore, although an appa- 
 rition of a more benign, as well as 
 much meaner description, he cannot 
 be bound to plead to a charge of in- 
 consistency. A better apology may 
 be found in the imitatino; the confes- 
 sion of honest Benedict, that when he 
 
 
VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 said he would die a bacheloi, he did 
 not think he should live to be mar- 
 ried. '] he best of all would be, if, as 
 has eminently happened in the case 
 of some distinguished contemporaries, 
 the merit of the work should, in the 
 reader's estimation, form an excuse 
 for the author's breach of promise. 
 Without presuming to hope that this 
 may prove the case, it is only further 
 necessary to mention, that my resolu- 
 tion, like that of Benedict, fell a sa- 
 crifice to temptation at least, if not to 
 stratagem. 
 
 It is now about six months since 
 the Author, through the medium of 
 his respectable Publishers, received a 
 parcel of Papers, containing the Out- 
 lines of thisnarrative, with apermission, 
 or rather with a request, couched in 
 highly flattering terms, that they might 
 be given to the Public, with such al- 
 
ADVERTI SEMENT. VU 
 
 terations as should be found suitable. 
 These were of course so numerous, 
 that, besides the suppression of names, 
 and of incidents approaching too much 
 to reahty, the work may in a great 
 measure be said to be new written. 
 Several anachronisms have probably 
 crept in during the course of these 
 changes ; and the mottoes for the 
 Chapters have been selected without 
 any reference to the supposed date of 
 the incidents. For these, of course, 
 the Editor is responsible. Some others 
 occurred in the original materials, but 
 they are of little consequence. In 
 point of minute accuracy, it may be 
 stated, that the bridge over the Forth, 
 or rather the Avondhu, (or Black 
 River,) near the hamlet of Aberfoil, 
 had not an existence thirty years ago. 
 It does not, however, become the Edi- 
 tor to be the first to point out these 
 
Viii ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 errors ; and he takes this public op- 
 portunity to thank the unknown and 
 nameless correspondent, to whom the 
 reader will owe the principal share of 
 any amusement which he may derive 
 from the following pages. 
 
ROB ROY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How have I sinn*d, that this affliction 
 
 Should h'ght 60 heavy on me ? I hare no more sons, 
 
 And this no more mine own. — My grand curse 
 
 Hang o'er his head that thus transformed thee !— Travel? 
 
 I'll send my horse to travel next 
 
 Monsieur Thomas. 
 
 You have requested me, my dear friend, 
 to bestow some of that leisure with which 
 Providence has blessed the decHne of my 
 life, in registering the hazards and difficul- 
 ties which attended its commencement. 
 The recollection of those adventures, as 
 you are pleased to term them, has indeed 
 left upon my mind a chequered and varied 
 
4 HOB ROY. 
 
 feeling of pleasure and of pain, mingled, I 
 trust, with no slight gratitude and venera- 
 tion to the Disposer of human events, who 
 guided my early course through much risk 
 and labour, that the ease with which he 
 has blessed my prolonged life, might seem 
 softer from remembrance and contrast. Nei- 
 ther is it possible for me to doubt, what 
 you have often affirmed, that the incidents 
 which befel me among a people singularly 
 primitive in their government and manners, 
 have something interesting and attractive 
 for those who live to hear an old man's 
 stories of a past age. 
 
 Still, however, you must remember, that 
 the tale told by one friend, and listened to 
 by another, loses half its charms when com. 
 mitted to paper ; and that the narratives to 
 which you have listened with interest, as 
 told by the voice of him to whom they oc- 
 curred, will appear less deserving of atten- 
 tion when perused in the seclusion of your 
 study. But your greener age and robust 
 constitution promise longer life than will, 
 
ROB ROY. 5 
 
 in all human probability, be the lot of your 
 friend. Throw, then, these sheets into 
 some secret drawer of your escrutoire till 
 we are separated from each other's society 
 by an event which may happen at any mo- 
 ment, and which must happen within the 
 course of a few, — a very few years. When 
 we are parted in this world, to meet, I hope, 
 in a better, you will, I am well aware, che- 
 rish more than it deserves the memory of 
 your departed friend, and will find in every 
 detail which 1 am now to commit to paper, 
 matter for melancholy, but not unpleasing 
 reflection. Others bequeath to the confi- 
 dents of their bosom portraits of their ex- 
 ternal features — I put into your hands a 
 faithful transcript of my thoughts and feel- 
 ings, of my virtues and of my failings, with 
 the assured hope, that the follies and head- 
 strong impetuosity of my youth will meet 
 the same kind construction and forgiveness 
 which has so often attended tlie faults of my 
 matured age. 
 
 One advantage, among the many, of ad- 
 
b ROB ROY. 
 
 dressing my Memoirs, if I may give these 
 sheets a name so imposing to a dear and 
 intimate friend, is, that I might spare some 
 of the details, in this case unnecessary, with 
 which I must needs have detained a stran- 
 ger from what I have to say of greater in- 
 terest. Why should I bestow all my tedi- 
 ousness upon you, because I have you in 
 my power, and have ink, paper, and time 
 before me ? At the same time, I dare not 
 promise that I may not abuse the opportu- 
 nity so temptingly offered me, to treat of 
 myself and my own concerns, even though 
 I speak of circumstances as well known to 
 you as to myself. The seductive love of 
 detail, when we ourselves are the heroes of 
 the events which we tell, often disregards 
 the attention due to the time and patience 
 of the audience, and the best and wisest 
 have yielded to its fascination. I need only 
 remind you of the singular instance evinced 
 by the form of that rare and original edition 
 of Sully's Memoirs, which you (with the 
 fond vanity of a book-collector), insist upon 
 
ROB ROY. 
 
 preferring to that which is reduced to the 
 useful and ordinary form of Memoirs, but 
 which I think curious, solely as illustrating 
 how far so great a man as the author 
 was accessible to the foible of self-import* 
 ance. If I recollect rightly, that venera- 
 ble peer and great statesman had appoint- 
 ed no fewer than four gentlemen of his 
 household to draw up the events of his life, 
 under the title of Memorials of the Sage 
 and Royal Affairs of State, Domestic, Poli- 
 tical, and Military, transacted by Henry 
 IV., and so forth. These sage recorders, 
 having made their compilation, reduced 
 the Memoirs containing all the remarkable 
 events of their master's life into a narrative, 
 addressed to himself in propria per so}ia. And 
 thus, instead of telling his own story, in the 
 third person, like Julius Cgesar, or in the 
 first person, like most who, in the hall, or 
 the study, undertake to be the heroes of 
 their own tale. Sully enjoyed the refined, 
 though whimsical pleasure, of having the 
 events of his life told over to him by his se- 
 
8 ROB ROY. 
 
 cretaries, being himself the auditor, as he 
 was also the hero, and probably the author 
 of the whole book. It must h^ve been a 
 great sight to have seen the ex-minister, as 
 bolt upright as a starched ruff and laced 
 cassock could make him, seated in state 
 beneath his canopy, and listening to the re- 
 citation of his compilers, while, standing 
 bare in his presence, they informed him 
 gravely, '^ Thus said the duke — so did the 
 duke infer — such were your gr^ce^s senti- 
 ments upon this important point — such were 
 your secret counsels to the king upon that 
 bther emergency,"— circumstances of which 
 all must have been much better known to 
 their hearer than to themselves, and most 
 could only be derived from his own special 
 communication. 
 
 My situation is not quite so ludicrous as 
 that of the great Sully, and yet there would 
 be something whimsical in Frank Osbaldis- 
 ton giving Will Tresham a formal account 
 of his birth, education, and connections in 
 the world. I will, therefore, wrestle with the 
 
ROB ROY. d 
 
 tempting spirit of P. P., clerk of our parish, 
 as I best may, and endeavour to tell you 
 nothing that is familiar to you already. 
 Some things, however, I must recal to 
 your memory, because, though formerly 
 well known to you, they may have been 
 forgotten through lapse of time, and they 
 afford the ground- work of my destiny. 
 
 You must remember my father well, for 
 as your own was a member of the mercan- 
 tile house, you knew him from infancy. 
 Yet you hardly saw him in his best days, 
 before age and infirmity had quenched his 
 ardent spirit of enterprize and speculation. 
 He would have been a poorer man indeed, 
 but perhaps as happy, had he devoted to 
 the extension of science those active ener- 
 gies, and acute powers of observation, for 
 which commercial pursuits found occupa- 
 tion. Yet, in the fluctuations of mercantile 
 speculation, there is something captivating 
 to the adventurer, even independent of the 
 hope of gain. He who embarks on that 
 fickle sea, requires to possess the skill of the 
 
 A 2 
 
10 ROB ROY* 
 
 pilot and the fortitude of the navigator, and 
 after all may be wrecked and lost, unless 
 the gales of fortune breathe in his favour. 
 This mixture of necessary attention and 
 inevitable hazard, — the frequent and awful 
 uncertainty whether prudence shall over- 
 come fortune, or fortune baffle the schemes 
 of prudence, affords full occupation for the 
 powers, as well as for the feelings of the 
 mind, and trade has all the fascination of 
 gambling without its moral guilt. 
 
 Early in the 1 8th century, when I ( Heaven 
 help me) was a youth of some 20 years old, 
 I was summoned suddenly from Bourdeaux 
 to attend my father on business of import- 
 ance. I shall never forget our first inter- 
 view. You recollect the brief, abrupt, and 
 somewhat stern mode in which he was wont 
 to communicate his pleasure to those around 
 him. Methinks I see him even now in my 
 mind's eye ; — the firm and upright figure, — 
 the step, quick and determined, — the eye, 
 which shot so keen and so penetrating a 
 glance,— the features, on which care had al- 
 
ROB ROY. 11 
 
 ready planted wrinkles, -—and hear his Ian- 
 guage, in which he never wasted word in 
 vain, expressed in a voice which had some- 
 times an occasional harshness, far from the 
 intention of the speaker. 
 
 When I dismounted from my post-horse, 
 I hastened to my father's apartment. He was 
 traversing it with an air of composed and 
 steady deliberation, which even my arrival, 
 although an only son unseen for four years, 
 was unable to discompose. I threw myself 
 into his arms. He was a kind, though not 
 a fond father, and the tear twinkled in his 
 dark eye, but it was only for a moment. 
 
 " Dubourg writes to me that he is satis- 
 fied with you, Frank.'* 
 
 •' I am happy, sir" 
 
 •* But I have less reason to be so," he 
 added, sitting down at his bureau. 
 
 ** I am sorry, sir" 
 
 ** Sorry and happy, Frank, are words that, 
 on most occasions, signify little or nothing — 
 Here is your last letter." 
 
 He took it out from a number of others 
 
12 ROB Ror. 
 
 tied up in a parcel of red tape, and curious- 
 ly labelled and filed. There lay my poor 
 epistle, written on the subject the nearest 
 to my heart at the time, and couched in 
 words which I had thought would work 
 compassion, if not conviction, — there, I 
 say, it lay, squeezed up among the letters 
 on miscellaneous business in which my fa- 
 ther's daily affairs had engaged him. I can- 
 not help smiling internally when I recollect 
 the mixture of hurt vanity, and wounded 
 feeling, with which I regarded my remon- 
 strance, to the penning of which there had 
 gone, I promise you, some trouble, as 1 be- 
 held it extracted from amongst letters of 
 advice, of credit, and all the common-place 
 lumber, as I then thought them, of a mer- 
 chant's correspondence. Surely, thought I, a 
 letter of such importance (I dared not even 
 say to myself so well written,) deserved a 
 separate place, as well as more anxious con- 
 sideration, than those on the ordinary busi- 
 ness of the counting-house. 
 
 But my father did not observe my dissa- 
 
ROB ROY. IS 
 
 tisfaction, and would not have minded it 
 if he had. He proceeded, with the letter 
 in his hand. " This, Frank, is your's of 
 the 2 1st ultimo, in which you advise me, 
 (reading from my letter) that in the most 
 important business of forming a plan, and 
 adopting a profession for hfe, you trust my 
 paternal goodness will hold you entitled to 
 at least a negative voice ; that you have in- 
 superable — aye, insuperable is the word — I 
 wish, by the way, you would write a more 
 distinct current hand — draw a score through 
 the tops of your t's, and open the loops of 
 your Ts — insuperable objections to the ar- 
 rangenvents which I have proposed to you. 
 There is much more to the same effect, oc- 
 cupying four good pages of paper, which a 
 little attention to perspicuity and distinct- 
 ness of expression might have comprised 
 within as many lines. For, after all, Frank, 
 it amounts but to this, that you will not 
 do as I would have you." 
 
 ** That I cannot, sir, in the present in- 
 stance 5 not that I will not," 
 
14 ROB ROY. 
 
 " Words avail very little with me, young 
 man," said my father, whose inflexibility 
 always possessed the air of the most perfect 
 calmness and self-possession. " Can not 
 may be a more civil phrase than will not^ 
 but the expressions are synonymous where 
 there is no moral impossibility. But I am 
 not a friend to doing business hastily; 
 we will talk this matter over after din- 
 ner. — Owen !" 
 
 Owen appeared, not with the silver locks 
 which you were used to venerate, for he was 
 then little more than fifty ; but he had the 
 same, or an exactly similar suit of light 
 brown clothes, — the same pearl-grey silk 
 stockings, — the same stock, with its silver 
 buckles, — the same plaited cambric ruffles, 
 drawn down over his knuckles in the par- 
 lour, but in the counting-house carefully 
 folded back under the sleeves, that they 
 might remain unstained by the ink which 
 he daily consumed; — in a word, the same 
 grave, formal, yet benevolent cast of fea- 
 tures, which continued to his death to dis- 
 
ROB ROY. 15 
 
 tinguish the head clerk of the great house 
 of Osbaldiston and Tresham. 
 
 " Owen,*' said my father, as the kind 
 old man shook me affectionately by the 
 hand, '* you must dine with us to-day, 
 and hear the news Frank has brought us 
 from our friends at Bourdeaux." 
 
 Owen made one of his stiff bows of re- 
 spectful gratitude ; for in those days, when 
 the distance between superiors and inferiors 
 was inforced in a manner to which the pre- 
 sent times are strangers, such an invitation 
 was a favour of some Httle consequence. 
 
 I shall long remember that dinner party. 
 Deeply affected by feelings of anxiety, not 
 unmingled with displeasure, I was unable 
 to take that active share in the conversation 
 which my father seemed to expect from 
 me ; and I too frequently gave unsatisfac- 
 tory answers to the questions with which he 
 assailed me. Owen, hovering betwixt his 
 respect for his patron, and his love for the 
 youth he had dandled on his knee in child- 
 hood, like the timorous, yet anxious ally of 
 
16 ROB ROY. 
 
 an invaded nation, endeavoured at every 
 blunder I made to explain my no-meaning, 
 and to cover my retreat, manoeuvres which 
 added to my father s pettish displeasure, and 
 brought a share of" it upon himself, instead 
 of protecting me. I had not, while residing 
 in the house of Dubourg, absolutely con- 
 ducted myself like 
 
 A clerk condemn'd his father's soul to cross, 
 Who penn'd a stanza when he should engross ; — 
 
 but, to say truth, I had frequented the 
 counting-house no more than I had thought 
 absolutely necessary to secure the good re- 
 port of the Frenchman, long a correspond- 
 ent of our firm, to whom my father had 
 trusted for initiating me into the secrets of 
 commerce. In fact, my principal attention 
 had been dedicated to literature and exer- 
 cises. My father did not altogether dis- 
 courage such acquirements, whether men- 
 tal or personal. He had too much good 
 sense not to perceive, that they sate grace- 
 
 9 
 
ROB ROY. 17 
 
 fully apon every man, and he was sensible 
 that they relieved and dignified the charac 
 ter to which he wished me to aspire. But 
 his chief ambition was, that I should suc- 
 ceed not merely to his fortune, but to the 
 views and plans by which he imagined he 
 could extend and perpetuate the wealthy 
 inheritance which he designed for me. 
 
 Love of his profession was the motive 
 which he chose should be most ostensible, 
 when he urged me to tread the same path ; 
 but he had others with which I only became 
 ^ acquainted at a later period. Impetuous ia 
 his schemes, as well as skilful and darmg, 
 each new adventure, when successful, be- 
 came at once the incentive, and furnished 
 the means, for farther speculation. It 
 seemed to be necessary to him, as to an am- 
 bitious conqueror, to push on from achieve- 
 ment to achievement, without stopping to 
 secure, far less to enjoy, the acquisitions 
 which he made. Accustomed to see his 
 whole fortune trembling in the scales of 
 chance, and dexterous at adopting expe- 
 
18 ROB ROY. 
 
 dients for casting the balance in his favour, 
 his health and spirits and activity seemed 
 ever to increase with the animating hazards 
 on which he staked his wealth ; and he re- 
 sembled a sailor, accustomed to brave the 
 billows and the foe, whose confidence rises 
 on the eve of tempest or of battle. He 
 was not, however, insensible to the changes 
 which increasing age or supervening mala- 
 dy might make in his own constitution ; 
 and was anxious in good time to secure in 
 me an assistant, who might take the helm 
 when his hand grew weary, and keep the 
 vessel's way, according to his counsel and 
 instruction. Paternal affection, as well as 
 the furtherance of his own plans, determi- 
 ned him to the same conclusion. Your 
 father, though his fortune was vested in the 
 house, was only a sleeping partner, as the 
 commercial phrase goes ; and Owen, whose 
 probity and skill in the details of arithmetic 
 rendered his services invaluable as a head 
 clerk, was not possessed either of informa- 
 tion or talents sufficient to conduct the mys- 
 
ROB ROY. 19 
 
 teries of the principal management. If my 
 father was suddenly summoned from life, 
 what would become of the world of 
 schemes which he had formed, unless his 
 son was moulded into a commercial Her- 
 cules, fit to sustain the weight when relin- 
 quished by the falling Atlas ? and what 
 would become of that son himself, if, a 
 stranger to business of this description, he 
 found himself at once involved in the laby- 
 rinth of mercantile concerns, without the 
 clue of knowledge necessary for his extrac- 
 tion? For all these reasons, avowed and 
 secret, my father was determined I should 
 embrace his profession ; and when he was 
 determined, the resolution of no man was 
 more immoveable. I, however, was also a 
 party to be consulted, and, with something 
 of his own pertinacity, I had formed a de- 
 termination precisely contrary. 
 
 It may, I hope, be some paUiative for the 
 resistance, which, on this occasion, I offered 
 to my father's wishes, that I did not fully 
 understand upon what they were founded, 
 
20 ROB ROY. 
 
 or how deeply his happiness was involved 
 in them. Imagining myself certain of a 
 large succession in future, and ample main- 
 tenance in the meanwhile, it never occurred 
 to me that it might be necessary, in order 
 to secure these blessings, to submit to la- 
 bour and limitations unpleasant to my taste 
 and temper, I only saw in my father's pro- 
 posal for my engaging in business, a desire 
 that I should add to those heaps of wealth 
 which he had himself acquired ; and ima- 
 gining myself the best judge of the path to 
 my own happiness, I did not conceive that I 
 should increase it by augmenting a fortune 
 which I believed was already sufficient, and 
 more than sufficient, for every use, comfort, 
 and elephant enjo} ment. 
 
 Accordingly, 1 am compelled to repeat, 
 that my time at Bourdeaux had not been 
 spent as my father had proposed to himself. 
 What he considered as the chief end of my 
 residence in that city, 1 had postponed to 
 every other, and would (had I dared) have 
 neglected it altogether. Dubourg, a fa- 
 
HOB ROY. 21 
 
 voured and benefitted correspondent of our 
 mercantile house, was too much of a shrewd 
 politician to make such reports to the head 
 of the firm concerning his only chile], as 
 would excite the displeasure of both ; and 
 he might also, as you will presently hear, 
 have views of selMsh advantas^e in sufFrring 
 me to neglect the purp )ses for which I was 
 placed under his charge. My conduct was 
 regulated by the hounds of decency and 
 good order, and thus far he iiad no evil re- 
 port to make, supposing \i\m so «]isposed ; 
 but, perhap"^, tiie crafty Frenchman would 
 have been equally complaisan?, had 1 been 
 in the habit of indulging worse feefngs 
 than those of indolence and aversion to 
 mercantile business. As it was, while I 
 gave a decent porticm of my time to the 
 commercial studies he reco'i^mended, he 
 was by no means envious of the hours which 
 I dedicated to other and more classical at- 
 tainments, nor did he ever find fault vvith 
 me for dwelling upon Corneille and Boileau, 
 in preference to Posdethwayte, (supposing 
 
22 ROB ROY. 
 
 his folio to have then existed, and Mon- 
 sieur Dubourg able to have pronounced 
 his name), or Savary, or any other writer 
 on commercial economy. He had pick- 
 ed up somewhere a convenient expression, 
 with which he rounded off every letter to 
 his correspondent. " I was all," he said, 
 *' that a father could wish." 
 
 My father never quarrelled with a phrase, 
 however frequently repeated, provided it 
 seemed to him distinct and expressive j and 
 Addison himself could not have found ex- 
 pressions so satisfactory to him as, " Your's 
 received, and duly honoured the bills in- 
 closed, as per margin.'* 
 
 Knowing, therefore, very well what he 
 desired me to be, Mr Osbaldiston made no 
 doubt, from the frequent repetition of Du- 
 bourg's favourite phrase, that I was the very 
 thing he wished to see me j when, in an evil 
 hour, he received my letter, containing my 
 eloquent and detailed apology for declining 
 a place in the firm, and a desk and stool in 
 
 the corner of the dark counting-house in 
 
 1 
 
BOB ROY. 23 
 
 Crane Alley, surmounting in height those 
 of Owen, and the other clerks, and only in- 
 ferior to the tripod of my father himself. 
 All was wrong from that moment. Du- 
 bourg's reports became as suspicious as if 
 his bills had been noted for dishonour. I 
 was summoned home in all haste, and re- 
 ceived in the manner I have already com- 
 municated to you. 
 
24 KOB ROY, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I begin shrewdly to suspect the young man of a terrible taint- 
 Poetry ; with which idle disease if he be infected, there's no 
 hope of him in a state course. Actum est of him for a com- 
 monwealth's man, if he go to*t in rhyme once. 
 
 Ben Jon sun's Bartholomew Fair, 
 
 My father had, generally speaking, his 
 temper under complete self command, and 
 his anger rarely indicated itself by words, 
 except in a sort of dry testy manner to those 
 who had displeased him. He never used 
 threats or expressions of loud resentment. 
 All was arranged with him upon system, 
 and it was his practice to '* do the needful" 
 upon every occasion, without wasting words 
 about it. It was, therefore, with a bitter 
 smile that he listened to my imperfect an- 
 swers concerning the state of commerce in 
 
ROB ROY. 2J 
 
 France, and unmercifully permitted me to 
 involve myself deeper and deeper in the 
 mysteries of agio, tariffs, tare and tret ; nor 
 can I charge my memory with his having 
 looked positively angry, until he found me 
 unable to explain the exact effect which 
 the depreciation of the louis d'or had 
 produced upon the negociation of bills of 
 exchange. " The most remarkable na- 
 tional occurrence in my time,'* said my fa- 
 ther, (who nevertheless had seen the revo- 
 lution) '< and he knows no more of it than 
 a post on the quay 1" 
 
 " Mr Francis," suggested Owen, in his 
 timid and conciliatory manner, '* cannot 
 have forgotten, that by an arret of the 
 King of France, dated 1st May, 1700, it 
 was provided that the porteur, within ten 
 days after due, must make demand " 
 
 ** Mr Francis," said my father, interrupt- 
 ing him, " will, f dare say, recollect for 
 the moment any thing you are so kind as 
 hint to him. — But body o' me ! how Du. 
 bourg could permit him ! — Hark ye, Owen, 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
26 ROB ROY. 
 
 what sort of a youth is Clement Dubourg, 
 his nephew there, in the office, the black- 
 haired lad ?'* 
 
 " One of the cleverest clerks, sir, in the 
 house ; a prodigious young man for his 
 time," answered Owen ; for the gaiety and 
 civility of the young Frenchman had won 
 his heart. 
 
 *« Aye, aye, I suppose he knows some- 
 thing of the nature of exchange. Du- 
 bourg was determined I should have one 
 youngster at least about my hand who un- 
 derstood business ; but I see his drift, and 
 he shall find that I do so when he looks at 
 the balance-sheet. Owen, let Clement's sa- 
 lary be paid up to next quarter-day, and let 
 liim ship himself back to Bourdeaux in his 
 father's ship, which is clearing out yonder.** 
 " Dismiss Clement Dubourg, sir ?" said 
 Owen, with a faultering voice. 
 
 " Yes, sir, dismiss him instantly ; it is 
 enough to have a stupid Englishman in 
 the counting-house to make blunders, with- 
 out keeping a sharp Frenchman there to 
 profit by them." 
 
ROB ROY. 27 
 
 I had lived long enough in the territo- 
 ries of the Grand Monarque to contract a 
 hearty aversion to arbitrary exertion of au- 
 thority, even if it had not been instilled in- 
 to me with my earliest breeding ; and I 
 could not refrain from interposing, to pre- 
 vent an innocent and meritorious young 
 man from paying the penalty of having ac- 
 quired that proficiency which my father had 
 desired for me. 
 
 ** I beg pardon, sir," when Mr Osbaldis- 
 ton had done speaking, '* but I think it but 
 just, that, if I have heen negligent of my 
 studies, I should pay the forfeit myself. I 
 have no reason to charge Monsieur Dubourg 
 with having neglected to give me opportu- 
 nity of improvement, however little 1 may 
 have profited by them ; and, with respect 
 to Monsieur Clement Dubourg"^ — 
 
 " With respect to him, and to you, I shall 
 take the measures which I see needful," re- 
 plied my father ; " but it is fair in you, 
 Frank, to take your own blame on your own 
 shoulders — very fair, that cannot be denied. 
 
28 IJOB ROY. 
 
 I cannot acquit old Dubourg," he said, 
 looking to Owen, " for having merely af- 
 forded Frank the means of useful know- 
 ledge, without either seeing that he took 
 advantage of them, or reporting to me if he 
 did not. You see, Owen, he has natural 
 notions of equity becoming a British mer- 
 chant." 
 
 " Mr Francis,** said the head clerk, with 
 his usual formal inclination of the head, and 
 a slight elevation of his right hand, which 
 he had acquired by a habit of sticking his 
 pen behind his ear before he spoke — *' Mr 
 Francis seems to understand the fundamen- 
 tal principle of all moral accounting, the 
 great ethic rule of three. Let A do to B, 
 as he would have B do to him ; the product 
 will give the rule of conduct required." 
 
 My father smiled at this reduction of the 
 golden rule to arithmetical form, but in- 
 stantly proceeded. 
 
 ** All this signifies nothing, Frank ; you 
 have been throwing away your time like a 
 boy, and in future you must learn to live 
 
ROB HOY. 29 
 
 like a man. I shall put you under 0\ven*s 
 care for a few months, to recover the lost 
 ground." 
 
 I was about to reply, but Owen looked at 
 me with such a supplicatory and warning 
 gesture, that I was involuntarily silent. 
 
 " We will then," continued my father, 
 " resume the subject of mine, of the 1st 
 ultimo, to which you sent me an answer 
 which was unadvised and unsatisfactory. So 
 now, fill your glass, and push the bottle to 
 Owen." 
 
 Want of courage — of audacity, if you 
 will, — was never my failing. I answered 
 firmly, " I was sorry that my letter was 
 unsatisfactory, unadvised it was not ; for I 
 had given the proposal his goodness had 
 made me my instant and anxious attention, 
 and it was with no small pain that I found 
 myself obliged to decline it/' 
 
 My father bent his keen eye for a moment 
 on me, and instantly withdrew it. As he 
 made no answer, 1 thought myself obliged 
 to proceed, though with some hesitation. 
 
30 ROB ROY. 
 
 and he only interrupted me by monosylla- 
 bles. 
 
 " It is impossible, sir, for me to have 
 higher respect for any character than I 
 have for the commercial, even were it not 
 yours.'* 
 
 ** Indeed V* 
 
 ** It connects nation with nation, relieves 
 the wants, and contributes to the wealth of 
 all ; and is to the general commonwealth 
 of the civilized world what the daily inter- 
 course of ordinary life is to private society, 
 or rather, what air and food are to our bo- 
 dies»" 
 
 " Well, sir ?'^ 
 
 " And yet, sir, I find myself compelled 
 to persist in declining to adopt a character 
 which I am so ill qualified to support." 
 
 " I will take care that you acquire the 
 qualifications necessary. You are no longer 
 the guest and pupil of Dubourg.** 
 
 " But, my dear sir, it is no defect of 
 teaching which I plead, but my own inabi- 
 lity to profit by instruction. 
 
 >> 
 
ROB ROY. 31 
 
 '* Nonsense ; have you kept your journal 
 in the terms I desired ?*' 
 
 '* Yes, sir." 
 
 " Be pleased to bring it here." 
 
 The volume thus required was a sort of 
 common-place book, kept by my father's 
 recommendation, in which I had been di- 
 rected to enter notes of the miscellaneous 
 information which I had acquired in the 
 course of my studies. Foreseeing that he 
 would demand inspection of this record, I 
 had been attentive to transcribe such parti- 
 culars of information as he would most like- 
 ly be pleased with, but too often the pen 
 had discharged the task without much cor- 
 respondence with the head. And it had 
 also happened, that, the book being the re- 
 ceptacle nearest to my hand, I had occa- 
 sionally jotted down memoranda which had 
 little regard to traffic. I now put it into 
 my father's hand, devoutly hoping he might 
 light on nothing that would increase his 
 displeasure against me. Owen's face, which 
 had looked something blank when the ques- 
 
32 ROB ROY. 
 
 tion was put, cleared up at my ready an- 
 swer, and wore a smile of hope, when I 
 brought from my apartment, and placed be- 
 fore my father, a commercial-looking vo- 
 lume, rather broader than it was long, ha- 
 ving brazen clasps and a binding of rough 
 calf. This looked business-like, and was 
 encouraging to my benevolent well-wisher. 
 But he actually smiled with pleasure as he 
 heard my father run over some part of the 
 contents, muttering his critical remarks as 
 he went on. 
 
 " Brandies — Barils and barricants^ also 
 tonneaux. — At Nantz 29 — Velles to the ha- 
 rique at Cognac and Rochelle %l — At Boiir- 
 deaux 52 — Very right, Frank — Duties on 
 tonnage and custoin-house^ see Saxby's Tables 
 —That's not well 5 you should have tran- 
 scribed the passage ; it fixes the thing on 
 the memory — Reports outward and inward 
 - — Co7'n debentures — -Over-sea Cockets-^- 
 Linens — Isingham — Gentish — Stock-Jish — 
 Titling — Croplijig — Lub-Jish. You should 
 have noted that they are all, nevertheless, 
 
liOR ROY. 33 
 
 to be entered as titlings. — How many inches 
 long is a titling ?*' 
 
 Owen, seeing me at fault, hazarded a 
 whisper, of which I fortunately caught the 
 import. 
 
 •* Eighteen inches, sir*' — 
 
 <* And a lub-fish is twenty-four — very 
 right. It is important to remember this, on 
 account of the Portugueze trade. — But what 
 Lave we here ?-^Bourdeaux jounded in the 
 year — Castle of the Trornpette — Palace of 
 Gallienus — Well, well, that*s very right 
 too. — This is a kind of w^aste-book, Owen, 
 in which all the transactions of the day, 
 emptions, orders, payments, receipts, ac- 
 ceptances, draughts, commissions, and ad- 
 vices, are entered miscellaneously." 
 
 *' That they may be regularly transferred 
 to the day-book and ledger," answered 
 Owen ; " I am glad Mr Francis is so me- 
 thodical." 
 
 I perceived myself getting so fast into 
 favour, that I began to fear the consequence 
 would be my father's more obstinate perse- 
 
 B 2 
 
34} ROB ROY. 
 
 verance in his resolution that I must be- 
 come a merchant, and, as I was determined 
 on the contrary, I began to wish I had not, 
 to use my friend Mr Owen's phrase, been 
 so methodical. But I had no reason for 
 apprehension on that score ; for a blotted 
 piece of paper dropped out of the book, 
 and, being taken up by my father, he in- 
 terrupted a hint from Owen, on the pro- 
 priety of securing loose memoranda with 
 a little paste, by exclaiming, " To the me- 
 mory of Edward the Black Prince — What's 
 all this ? — verses ! — By Heaven, Frank, you 
 are a greater blockhead than I supposed 
 you !" 
 
 My father, you must recollect, as a man 
 of business, looked upon the labour of poets 
 with contempt ; and as a religious man, 
 and of the dissenting persuasion, he consi- 
 dered such pursuits as equally trivial and 
 profane. Before you condemn him, you 
 must recal to remembrance how too many 
 of the poets in the end of the seventeenth 
 century had led their lives and employed 
 
ROB ROY. 5d 
 
 their talents. The sect also to which my 
 father belonged, felt, or perhaps affected, 
 a puritanical aversion to the lighter exer- 
 tions of literature. So that many causes 
 contributed to augment the unpleasant sur- 
 prise occasioned by the ill-timed discovery 
 of this unfortunate copy of verses. As for 
 poor Owen, could the bob-wig which he 
 then w^ore have uncurled itself, and stood on 
 end with horror, I am convinced the morn- 
 ing's labour of the friseur would have been 
 undone, merely by the excess of his asto- 
 nishment at this enormity. An inroad on 
 the strong box, or an erasure in the ledger, 
 or a mis-summation in a fitted account, could 
 hardly have surprised him more disagree- 
 ably. My father read the lines sometimes 
 with an affectation of not being able to un- 
 derstand the sense, — sometimes in a mouth- 
 ing tone of mock heroic,— always with an 
 emphasis of the most bitter irony, most ir-- 
 ritating to the nerves of the author. 
 
 " O for the voice of that wild horn, 
 On Fontarabian echoes borne. 
 
 The dying hero's call. 
 
t4 
 
 G ROB 110 1. 
 
 That told imperial Charlemagne, 
 How Paynim sons of swarthy Spain 
 
 Had wrought his champion's fall.". 
 
 '* Fontarahian echoes P' continued my fa- 
 ther, interrupting himself; '* the Fontara- 
 bian Fair would have been more to the 
 purpose. — Paynim ? — What's Paynim ? — 
 Could you not say Pagan as well, and write 
 English, at least, if you must needs wTite 
 nonsense. — 
 
 '* Sad over earth and ocean sounding, 
 And England's distant cliflPs astounding, 
 
 Such are the notes should say 
 How Britain's hope, and France's fear, 
 Victor of Cressy and Poitier, 
 
 In Bourdeaux dying lay.** 
 
 '* Poitiers, by the way, is always spelled 
 with an 5, and I know no reason why ortho- 
 graphy should give place to rhyme. — 
 
 " Raise my faint head, my squires,** he said, 
 *' And let the casement be displayed, 
 
 That I may see once more 
 
ROB ROY. 37 
 
 The splendour of the setting sun 
 Gleam on thy mirror'd wave, Garonne, 
 
 And Blaye's empurpled shore." 
 
 " Garonne and sun is a bad rhyme. Why, 
 Frank, you do not even understand the 
 beggarly trade you have chosen. 
 
 '^ Like me, he sinks to Glory's sleep, 
 His fall the dews of evening steep, 
 
 As if in sorrow shed. 
 So soft shall fall the trickling tear. 
 When England's maids and matrons hear 
 
 Of their Black Edward dead. 
 
 " And though my sun of glory set, 
 Nor France, nor England shall forget 
 
 The terror of my name ; 
 And oft shall Britain's heroes rise. 
 New planets in these southern skies, 
 
 Through clouds of blood and flame." 
 
 ** A cloud of flame is something new — 
 Good- morrow, my masters all, and a merry 
 Christmas to you ! — Why, the bellman 
 writes better lines.'* He then tossed the 
 paper from him with an air of superlative 
 
 6 
 
38 ROB HOY. 
 
 contempt, and concluded, — '* Upon my 
 credit, Frank, you are a greater blockhead 
 than 1 took you for." 
 
 What could I say, my dear Tresham ? — 
 There I stood, swelling with indignant mor- 
 tification, while my father regarded me with 
 a calm but stern look of scorn and pity ; 
 and poor Owen, with uplifted hands and 
 eyes, looked as striking a picture of horror 
 as if he had just read his patron's name in 
 the Gazette. At length 1 took courage to 
 speak, endeavouring that my tone of voice 
 should betray my feelings as little as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 ** I am quite aware, sir, how ill qualified 
 I am to play the conspicuous part in so- 
 ciety you have destined for me j and, lucki- 
 ly, I am not ambitious of the wealth I might 
 acquire. Mr Owen would be a much more 
 effective assistant." I said this in some 
 malice, for I considered Owen as having 
 deserted my cause a little too soon. 
 
 " Owen ?" said my father — *' The boy is 
 mad, actually insane. And, pray, sir, if I 
 
ROB ROY. 39 
 
 may presume to enquire, having coolly 
 turned me over to Mr Owen, (although I 
 may expect more attention from any one 
 than from my son) what may your own 
 sage projects be ?" 
 
 *' I should wish, sir," I replied, summon- 
 ing up my courage, ** to travel for two or 
 three years, should that consist with your 
 pleasure ; otherwise, although late, I would 
 willingly spend the same time at Oxford or 
 Cambridge." 
 
 " In the name of common sense ! was 
 the like ever heard ?-^to put yourself to 
 school among pedants and Jacobites, when 
 you might be pushing your fortune in the 
 world ! Why not go to Westminster or 
 Eaton at once, man, and take to Lilly's 
 Grammar and Accidence, and to the birch 
 too, if you like it ?" 
 
 ** Then, sir, if you think my plan of im- 
 provement too late, I would willingly re- 
 turn to the continent." 
 
 " You have spent too much time there 
 to little purpose, Mr Francis." 
 
40 ROB HOY. 
 
 " Then I would choose the army, sir, in 
 preference to any other active line of life." 
 
 " Choose the d — ]," answered my father, 
 hastily, and then checking himself — " I 
 profess you make me as great a fool as you 
 are yourself. — Is he not enough to drive one 
 mad, Owen ?" Poor Owen shook his head, 
 and looked down. '' Hark ye, Frank," con- 
 tinued my father, '* I will cut all this mat- 
 ter very short — I was at your age when my 
 father turned me out of doors, and settled 
 my legal inheritance on my younger bro- 
 ther, I left Osbaldistone Hall on the back 
 of a broken down hunter, with ten guineas 
 in my purse. I have never crossed the 
 threshold again, and I never will. I know 
 not, and 1 care not, if my fox-hunting bro- 
 ther is alive, or has broken his neck ; but 
 he has children, Frank, and one of them 
 shall be my son if you cross me farther in 
 this matter." 
 
 " You will do your pleasure," I answer- 
 ed, rather, I fear, with more sullen indiffe- 
 
nOB ROY. 41 
 
 rence than respect, " with what is your 
 
 own." 
 
 *' Ye?, Frank, what I have is my own, if 
 labour in getting, and care in augmenting, 
 can make a right of property ; and no 
 drone shall feed on my honeycomb. Think 
 on it well ; what I have said is not without 
 reflection, and what I resolve upon I will 
 execute." 
 
 '* Honoured sir — dear sir," exclaimed 
 Owen, tears rushing into his eyes, " you 
 are not wont to be in such hurry in trans- 
 acting business of importance. Let Mr 
 Francis run up the balance before you shut 
 the account ; he loves you, I am sure ; and 
 when he puts down his filial obedience to 
 the per contra, I am sure his objections will 
 disappear." 
 
 " Do you think 1 will ask him twice," 
 said my father, sternly, ** to be my friend, 
 my assistant, and my confidant ?— to be a 
 partner of my cares and of my fortune ? 
 Owen, I thought you had known me bet- 
 ter." 
 
 \ 
 
42 ROB ROY. 
 
 He looked at me as if he meant to add 
 something more, but turned instantly away, 
 and left the room abruptly. I was, I own, 
 affected by this view of the case, which had 
 not occurred to me, and my father would 
 probably have had little reason to complain 
 of me, had he commenced the discussion 
 with this argument. 
 
 But it was too late. I had much of 
 his own obduracy of resolution, and Hea- 
 ven had decreed that my sin should be 
 my punishment, though not to the extent 
 which my transgression merited. Owen, 
 when we were left alone, continued to look 
 at me with eyes, which tears from time to 
 time moistened, as to discover, before at- 
 tempting the task of intercessor, upon what 
 point my obstinacy was most assailable. At 
 length he began, with broken and discon- 
 certed accents, — *^ O 1 — d, Mr Francis ! — 
 Good Heavens, sir ! — My stars, Mr Osbal- 
 distone !— that I should ever have seen this 
 day— and you so young a gentleman, sir — 
 For the love of Heaven ! look at both sides 
 
ROB ROY. 43 
 
 of the account — Think what you are going 
 to lose — a noble fortune, sir — one of the 
 finest houses in the city, even under the 
 old firm of Tresham and Trent, and now 
 Osbaldistone and Tresham — You might roll 
 in gold, Mr Francis — And, my dear young 
 Mr Frank, if there was any particular thing 
 in the business of the house which you 
 disliked, I would" (sinking his voice to a 
 whisper) ** put it in order for you termly, or 
 weekly, or daily, if you will — Do, my dear 
 Mr Francis, think of the honour due to 
 your father, that your days may be long in 
 the land." 
 
 '* I am much obliged to you, Mr Owen," 
 said I, — ** very much obliged, indeed ; but 
 my father is best judge how to bestow his 
 money. He talks of one of my cousins — 
 let him dispose of his wealth as he pleases, 
 I will never sell my liberty for gold.'' 
 
 " Gold, sir ? — I wish you saw the ba- 
 lance sheet of profits at last term — It was 
 in five figures — five figures to each part- 
 ner's sum total, Mr Frank — And all this is 
 
44 ROB ROY. 
 
 to go to a Papist, and a north-country 
 booby, and a disaffected person besides — It 
 will break my heart, Mr Francis, that have 
 been toiling more like a dog than a man, 
 and all for love of the firm. — Think how 
 it will sound, Osbaldistone, Tresham, and 
 Osbaldistone — or, perhaps, who knows," 
 (again lowering his voice) " Osbaldistone, 
 Osbaldistone, and Tresham, for our Mr Os- 
 baldistone can buy them all out." 
 
 " But, Mr Owen, my cousin's name be- 
 ing also Osbaldistone, the name of the com- 
 pany will sound every bit as well in your 
 ears." 
 
 " O, fie upon you, Mr Francis, when 
 you know how well I love you — your cou- 
 sin, indeed ! — a Papist, no doubt, like his fa- 
 ther, and a disaffected person to the Pro- 
 testant succession — that's another item, 
 doubtless." 
 
 ^' There are many very good men Catho- 
 lics, Mr Owen," rejoined I. 
 
 As Owen was about to answer, with un- 
 
^ ROB ROY. 45 
 
 usual animation, my father re-entered the 
 apartment. 
 
 *« You were right," he said, '* Owen, and 
 I was wrong ; we will take more time to 
 think over this matter. — Young man, you 
 will prepare to give me an answer on this 
 important subject this day month." 
 
 1 bowed in silence, sufficiently glad of a 
 reprieve, and trusting it might indicate 
 some relaxation in my father's determina- 
 tion. 
 
 The time of probation past slowly, un- 
 marked by any accident whatever. I went 
 and came, and disposed of my time as I 
 pleased, without question or criticism on 
 the part of my father. Indeed, I rarely 
 saw him, save at meal times, when he stu- 
 diously avoided a discussion which you may 
 well suppose I was in no hurry to press on- 
 ward. Our conversation was of the news 
 of the day, or of such general topics as 
 strangers discourse upon to each other ; 
 nor could any one have guessed, from its 
 tenor, that there remained undecided be- 
 
 V 
 
46 ROB ROY. 
 
 twixt us a dispute of such importance. It 
 haunted me, however, more than once, hke 
 a night mare. Was it possible he would 
 keep his word, and disinherit his only son in 
 favour of a nephew, whose very existence he 
 was not perhaps quite certain of? My grand- 
 father's conduct, in similar circumstances, 
 boded me no good, had I considered the 
 matter rightly. But I had formed an erro- 
 neous idea of my father's character, from 
 the importance which I recollected I main- 
 tained with him and his whole family be- 
 fore I w^ent to France. I was not aware, 
 that there are men who indulge their chil- 
 dren at an early age, because it interests 
 and amuses them, and who can yet be suf- 
 ficiently severe when the same children cross 
 their expectations at a more advanced period. 
 On the contrary, 1 persuaded myself, that all 
 I had to apprehend, was some temporary ali- 
 enation of affection ; — perhaps a rustication 
 of a few weeks, which I thought would ra- 
 ther please me as otherwise, since it would 
 give me an opportunity of setting about my 
 
 1 
 
ROB ROY. 47 
 
 unfinished version of OrlandoFuriosOjapoem 
 which I longed to render into English verse. 
 I suffered this belief to get such absolute 
 possession of my mind, that I had resumed 
 my blotted papers, and was busy in medita- 
 tion on the oft-recurring rhymes of the 
 Spenserian stanza, when I heard a low and 
 cautious tap at the door of my apartment. 
 ** Come in," I said, and Mr Owen entered. 
 So regular were the motions and habits of 
 this worthy man, that in all probability this 
 was the first time he had ever been in the 
 second story of his patron's house, however 
 conversant with the first ; and I am still 
 at a loss to know in what manner he disco- 
 vered my apartment. 
 
 " Mr Francis," he said, interrupting my 
 expressions of surprise and pleasure at see- 
 ing him, " I do not know if I am doing 
 well in what I am about to say — it is not 
 right to speak of what passes in the corapt- 
 ing-house out of doors — one should not tell, 
 as they say, to the post in the warehouse, 
 how many lines there are in the ledger. But 
 
48 ROB ROY. 
 
 young Twineall has been absent from the 
 house for a fortnight and more, until two 
 days since." 
 
 ** Very well, my dear sir, and how does 
 that concern us ?" 
 
 ** Stay, Mr Francis — ^}^our father gave 
 him a private commission ; and I am sure 
 he did not go down to Falmouth about the 
 Pilchard affair ; and the Exeter business 
 with Blackwell and company has been set- 
 tled ; and the mining people in Cornwall, 
 Trevanion, and Treguilliam, have paid all 
 they are like to pay ; and any other matter 
 of business must have been put through my 
 books ; in short, it's my faithful belief that 
 Twineall has been down in the north." 
 
 '' Do you really suppose so ?" said I, 
 somewhat startled. 
 
 " He has spoken about nothing, sir, since 
 he returned, but his new boots, and his Rip- 
 pon spurs, and a cock-fight at York — it's as 
 true as the multiplication-table. Do, Hea- 
 ven bless you, my dear child, make up your 
 
ROB ROY. 49 
 
 mind to please your father, and to be a 
 man and a merchant at once." 
 
 I felt at that instant a strong inclina- 
 tion to submit, and to make Owen happy 
 by requesting him to tell my father, that 
 I resigned myself to his disposal. But 
 pride— pride, the source of so much that 
 is good and so much that is evil in our 
 course of life, prevented me. My acqui- 
 escence stuck in my throat ; and while I 
 was coughing to get it up, my father's 
 voice summoned Owen. He hastily left 
 the room, and the opportunity was lost. 
 
 My father was methodical in every thing. 
 At the very same time of the day, in the 
 same apartment, and with the same tone 
 and manner which he had employed an ex- 
 act month before, he recapitulated the pro- 
 posal he had made for taking me into part- 
 nership, and assigning me a department in 
 the counting-house, and requested to have 
 my final decision. I thought at the time 
 there was something unkind in this; and I 
 still think that my father's conduct was in- 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
50 ROB ROY. 
 
 judicious. A more conciliatory treatment 
 would, in all probability, have gained his 
 purpose. As it was, I stood fast, and, as 
 respectfully as I could, declined the propo- 
 sal he made to me. Perhaps, — for who can 
 judge of their own heart, — 1 felt it unman- 
 ly to yield on the first summons, and ex- 
 pected farther solicitation, as, at least, a pre- 
 text for changing my mind. If so, I was 
 disappointed ; for my father turned coolly 
 to Owen, and only said, " You see it is as 
 I told you. — Well, Frank," (addressing me) 
 *« You are nearly of age, and as well quali- 
 Hed to judge of what will constitute your 
 own happiness as you ever are like to be ; 
 therefore, I say no more. But as I am not 
 bound to give in to your plans, any more 
 than you are compelled to submit to mine, 
 may I ask to know if you have formed any 
 which depend on my assistance ?" 
 
 I answered, not a little abashed, " that 
 being bred to no profession, and having no 
 funds of my own, it was obviously impos- 
 sible for me to subsist without some allow- 
 
ROB ROY. 51 
 
 ance from my father; that my wishes were 
 very moderate ; and that I hoped my aver- 
 sion for the profession to which he had de- 
 signed me, would not occasion his altoge- 
 ther withdrawing his paternal support and 
 protection." 
 
 *' That is to say, you wish to lean on my 
 arm, and yet to walk your own way ? That 
 can hardly be, Frank ; — however, I sup- 
 pose you mean to obey my directions, so 
 far as they do not cross your own hu- 
 mour ?" 
 
 I was about to speak — *' Silence, if you 
 please," he continued. ^* Supposing this 
 to be the case, you will instantly set out 
 for the North of England, to pay your un- 
 cle a visit, and see the state of his family. 
 I have chosen from among his sons (he has 
 seven I believe) one whom I understand is 
 most worthy to fill the place I intended 
 for you in the counting-house. But some 
 farther arrangements may be necessary, and 
 for these your presence may be requisite. 
 You shall have further instructions at Os- 
 
52 ROB ROY. 
 
 baldlstone Hall, where you will please to 
 remain until you hear from me. Every thing 
 will be ready for your departure to morrow 
 morning." 
 
 With these words my father left the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " What does all this mean, Mr Owen ?" 
 said I to my sympathetic friend, whose 
 countenance wore a cast of the deepest de- 
 jection. 
 
 '* You have ruined yourself, Mr Frank, 
 that's all ; when your father talks in that quiet 
 determined manner, there will be no more 
 change in him than in a fitted account." 
 
 And so it proved ; for the next mornings 
 at five o'clock, I found myself on the road 
 to York, mounted on a reasonably good 
 horse, and with fifty guineas in my pocket ; 
 travelling, as it would seem, for the purpose 
 of assisting in the adoption of a successor to 
 myself in my father's house and favour, and, 
 for aught I knew, eventually in his fortune 
 also. 
 
ROB ROY. 53 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The slack sail shifts from side to side, 
 The boat, untrimm'd, admits the tide, 
 Borne down, adrift, at random tost, 
 The oar breaks short, the rudder's lost. 
 
 Gay's Fables. 
 
 I HAVE tagged with rhyme and blank 
 verse the subdivisions of this important nar- 
 rative, in order to seduce your continued 
 attention by powers of composition of 
 stronger attraction than my own. The 
 preceding lines refer to an unfortunate na- 
 vigator, who daringly unloosed from its 
 moorings a boat, which he was unable to 
 manage, and thrust it off into the full tide 
 of a navigable river. No school-boy, who, 
 betwixt frolic and defiance, had executed a 
 similar rash attempt, could feel himself. 
 
54 ROB UOY. 
 
 when adrift in a strong current, in a situ- 
 ation more awkward than mine, when I 
 found myself driving, without a compass, 
 on the ocean of human life. There had 
 been such unexpected ease in the manner 
 in which my father slipt a knot, usually 
 esteemed the strongest which binds society 
 together, and suffered me to depart as a 
 sort of outcast from his family, that it 
 strangely lessened the confidence in my 
 own personal accomplishments, which had 
 hitherto sustained me. Prince Pretty- 
 man, now a prince, and now a fisher's son, 
 had not a more awkward sense of his de- 
 gradation. We are so apt, in our engross- 
 ing egotism, to consider all those accessories 
 which are drawn around us by prosperity, 
 as pertaining and belonging to our own per- 
 sons, that the discovery of our unimport- 
 ance, when left to our own proper resour- 
 ces, becomes inexpressibly mortifying. As 
 the hum of London died away on my ear, 
 the distant peal of her steeples more than 
 once sounded to my ears the admonitory 
 
ROB ROY. 55 
 
 " Turn again,'* erst heard by her future 
 Lord Mayor; and when I looked back 
 from Highgate on her dusky raagnificence, 
 I felt as if I were leaving behind me com- 
 fort, opulence, the charms of society, and 
 all the pleasures of cultivated life. 
 
 But the die was cast. It was, indeed, by 
 no means probable that a late and ungracious 
 compliance with my father's wishes would 
 have reinstated me in the situation which I 
 had lost. On the contrary, firm and strong 
 of purpose as he himself was, he might ra- 
 ther have been disgusted than conciliated 
 by my tardy and compulsory acquiescence 
 in his desire that I should enter into com- 
 merce. My constitutional obstinacy came 
 also to my aid, and pride whispered how 
 poor a figure I should make, when an air- 
 ing of four miles from London had blown 
 ciway resolutions formed in a month's seri- 
 ous deliberation. Hope, too, that never 
 forsakes the young and hardy, lent her 
 lustre to my future prospects. My father 
 could not be serious in the sentence of fo 
 
56 ROB ROY. 
 
 ris-familiation, which he had so unhesitating- 
 ly pronounced. It must be but a trial of my 
 disposition, which, endured with patience 
 and steadiness on ray part, would raise me 
 in his estimation, and lead to an amicable 
 accommodation of the point in dispute be- 
 tween us. I even settled in my own mind 
 how far I would concede to him, and upon 
 what articles of our supposed treaty I would 
 make a firm stand, and the result was, ac- 
 cording to my computation, that I was to 
 be reinstated in my full rights of filiation, 
 paying the easy penalty of some ostensible 
 compliances to atone for my past rebellion. 
 In the meanwhile, I was lord of my per- 
 son, and experienced that feeling of inde- 
 pendence which the youthful bosom re- 
 ceives with a thrilling mixture of pleasure 
 and apprehension. My purse, though by 
 no means amply replenished, was in a situa- 
 tion to supply all the wants and wishes of 
 a traveller. I had been accustomed, while 
 at Bourdeaux, to act as my own valet ; my 
 horse was fresh, young, and active, and the 
 
ROB ROY. 57 
 
 buoyancy of my spirits soon surmounted 
 the melancholy reflections with which my 
 journey commenced. 
 
 I should have been glad if I had journey- 
 ed upon a line of road better calculated to 
 afford reasonable objects of curiosity, or a 
 more interesting country, to the traveller. 
 But the north road was then, and perhaps 
 still is, singularly deficient in these respects ; 
 nor do I believe you can travel so far 
 through Britain in any other direction with- 
 out meeting more of what is worthy to en- 
 gage the attention. My mental rumina- 
 tions, notwithstanding my assumed confi- 
 dence, were not always of an unchequered 
 nature. The Muse too,^-the very coquette 
 wtio had led me into this w^ilderness, — like 
 others of her sex, deserted me in my ut- 
 most need ; and I should have been re- 
 duced to rather an uncomfortable state of 
 dulness, had it not been for the occasional 
 conversation of strangers Vi^ho chanced to 
 pass the same way. But the characters 
 whom I met with were of a uniform and 
 
 c 2 
 
58 ROB ROY. 
 
 uninteresting description. Country parsons, 
 jogging homewards after a visitation ; farm- 
 ers, or graziers, returning from a distant 
 market ; clerks of traders, travelling to col- 
 lect what was due to their masters in pro- 
 vincial towns, with now and then an officer 
 gouig down into the country upon the re- 
 cruiting service, were, at this period, the 
 pei'sons by whom the turnpikes and tap- 
 sters were kept in exercise. Our speech, 
 therefore, Vv^as of tithes and creeds, of 
 beeves and grain, of commodities wet and 
 dry, and the solvency of the retail dealers, 
 occasionally varied by the description of a 
 siege, or battle, in Flanders, which, per- 
 haps, the narrator only gave me at second 
 hand. Robbers, a fertile and alarming 
 theme, filled up every vacancy ; and the 
 names of the Golden Farmer, the Flying 
 Highwayman, Jack Needham, and other 
 Beggar's Opera heroes, were familiar in our 
 mouths as household words. At such tales> 
 like children closing their circle round the 
 fire when the ghost story draws to its cli- 
 
ROB ROY. 59 
 
 max, the riders drew near to each other, 
 looked before and behind them, examined 
 the priming of their pistols, and vowed to 
 stand by eacli other in case of danger : an 
 engagement which, like other offensive and 
 defensive alliances, sometimes glided out 
 of remembrance when there was an ap- 
 pearance of actual peril. 
 
 Of all the fellows whom I ever saw haunt- 
 ed by terrors of this nature, one poor man, 
 with whom I travelled a dav and a half, af- 
 forded me most amusement. He had upon 
 his pillion a very small, but apparently a 
 very weighty portmanteau, about the safety 
 of vs hich he seemed particularly solicitous, 
 never trusting it out of his own immediate 
 care, and uniformly repressing the officious 
 zeal of the waiters and ostlers, who offered 
 their services to carry it into the house. 
 With the same precaution he laboured to 
 conceal, not only the purpose of his jour- 
 ney, and his ultimate place of destination, 
 but even the direction of each day's route. 
 Nothing embarrassed him more than to be 
 
 9 
 
60 ROB ROY. 
 
 asked by any one, whether he was travel- 
 ling upward or downward, or at what stage 
 he intended to bait. His place of rest for 
 the night he scrutinized with the most an- 
 xious care, alike avoiding soHtude, and what 
 he considered as bad neighbourhood ; and 
 at Grantham, I beheve, he sate up all night 
 to avoid sleeping in the next room to a 
 thick-set squinting fellow, in a black wig, 
 and a tarnished gold-laced waistcoat. With 
 all these cares on his mind, my fellow tra- 
 veller, to judge by his thewes and sinews, 
 was a man who might have set danger at 
 defiance with as much impunity as most 
 men. He was strong, and well-built ; and, 
 judging from his gold-laced hat and cock- 
 ade, seemed to have served in the army, or, 
 at least, to belong to the military profes- 
 sion in one capacity or other. His conver- 
 sation also, though always sufficiently vul- 
 gar, was that of a man of sense, when the 
 terrible bugbears which haunted his ima- 
 gination for a moment ceased to occupy 
 his attention. But every accidental asso- 
 
 8 
 
ROB HOY. 61 
 
 elation recalled them. An open heath, a 
 close plantation, were alike subjects of his 
 apprehension ; and the whistle of a shep- 
 herd lad was instantly converted into the 
 signal of a depredator. Even the sight of 
 a gibbet, if it assured him that one robber 
 was safely disposed of by justice, never fail- 
 ed to remind him how many remained still 
 unhanged. ^^ 
 
 I should have wearied of this fellow's com- 
 pany, had I not been still more tired of my 
 own thoughts. Some of the marvellous sto- 
 ries, however, which he related, had in them- 
 selves a cast of interest, and another whim- 
 sical point of his peculiarities afforded me 
 the occasional opportunity of amusing my- 
 self at his expence. Among his tales, several 
 of the unfortunate travellers who fell among 
 thieves, incurred that calamity from associ- 
 ating themselves on the road with a well- 
 dressed and entertaining stranger, in whose 
 company they trusted to find protection as 
 well as amusement; who cheered their 
 journey with tale and song, protected them 
 against the evils of overcharges and false 
 
62 R06 ROY. 
 
 reckonings, until at length, under pretext 
 of shewing a nearer road over a desolate 
 common, he seduced his unsuspicious vic- 
 tims from the public road into some dismal 
 glen, where, suddenly blowing his whistle, 
 he assembled his comrades from their lurk- 
 ing-place, and displayed himself in his true 
 colours, the captain, namely, of the band of 
 robbers to whom his unwary fellow-travel- 
 lers had forfeited their purses, and perhaps 
 their lives. Towards the conclusion of 
 such a tale, and when my companion had 
 wrought himself into a fever of apprehen- 
 sion by the progress of his own narrative, I 
 observed that he usually eyed me with a 
 glance of doubt and suspicion, as if the pos- 
 sibility occurred to him, that he might, at 
 the very moment of speaking, be in com- 
 pany with a character as dangerous as that 
 which his tale described. And ever and 
 anon, when such suggestions pressed them- 
 selves on the mind of this ingenious self- 
 tormentor, he drew off from my side to the 
 opposite side of the high road, looked be- 
 fore, behind, and around him, examined his 
 
ROB ROY. 63 
 
 arms, and seemed to prepare himself for 
 flight or defence, as circumstances might 
 require. 
 
 The suspicion implied on such occasions 
 seemed to be only momentary, and ap- 
 peared to me too ludicrous to be offensive. 
 There was, in fact, no particular reflection 
 on my dress or address, although I was thus 
 mistaken for a robber. A man in these 
 days might have all the external appear- 
 ance of a gentleman, and yet turn out a 
 highwayman. For the division of labour 
 in every department not having then ta- 
 ken place so fully as since that period, 
 the profession of the polite and accom- 
 plished adventurer, who nicked you out 
 of your money at White's, or bowled you 
 out of it at Marybone, was often united 
 with that of the professed rufiian, who, on 
 Bagshot Heath, or Finchley Common, com- 
 manded his brother beau to stand and deli- 
 ver. There was also a touch of coarseness 
 and hardness about the manners of the 
 times, which has since, in a great degree, 
 been softened and shaded away. It seems 
 
64 ROB ROY. 
 
 to me, on recollection, as if desperate men 
 had less reluctance then, than now, to em- 
 brace the most desperate means of retrie- 
 ving their fortune. The times were in- 
 deed passed, when Anthony-a-Wood mourn- 
 ed over the execution of two men, goodly 
 in person, and of undisputed courage and 
 honour, who were executed without mercv 
 at Oxford, merely because their distress had 
 driven them to raise contributions on the 
 highway. We were still farther removed from 
 the days of " the mad Prince and Poins." 
 And yet, from the number of uninclosed 
 and extensive heaths in the vicinity of the 
 metropolis, and from the less populous state 
 of remote districts, both were frequented 
 by that species of mounted highwaymen, 
 that may possibly become one day unknown, 
 who carried on their trade with something 
 like courtesy J and, like Gibbet in the Beaux 
 Stratagem, piqued themselves on being the 
 best behaved men on the road, and on be- 
 having with all appropriate civility in the 
 exercise of their vocation, A young man, 
 therefore, in my circumstances, was not en- 
 
ROB ROY. 65 
 
 titled to be highly indignant at the mistake 
 which confounded him with this worshiptul 
 class of depredators./ 
 
 Neither was I offended. On the contra- 
 ry, I found amusement in alternately excit- 
 ing, and lulling to sleep, the suspicions of 
 my timorous companion, and in purposely 
 so acting as still farther to puzzle a brain 
 which nature and apprehension had com- 
 bined to render none of the clearest. When 
 my free conversation had lulled him into 
 complete security, it required only a pass- 
 ing enquiry concerning the direction of his 
 journey, or the nature of the business which 
 occasioned it, to put his suspicions once 
 more in arms. For example, a conversa- 
 tion on the comparative strength and acti- 
 vity of our horses took such a turn as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 " O sir," said my companion, ** for the 
 gallop, I grant you ; but allow me to say, 
 your horse (although he is a very handsome 
 gelding — that must be owned) has too little 
 bone to be a good roadster. The trot, sir," 
 
66 HOB ROY. 
 
 (striking his Bucephalus with his spurs), 
 " the trot is the true pace for a hackney; 
 and, were we near a town, I should like to 
 try that daisy-cutter of yours upon a piece 
 of level road (barring canter) for a quart of 
 claret at the next inn." 
 
 " Content, sir," replied I ; ** and here is 
 a stretch of ground very favourable." 
 
 ** Hem, ahem," answered my friend with 
 hesitation ; " I make it a rule of travelling - 
 never to blow my horse between stages ; i 
 one never knows what occasion he may have 
 to put him to his mettle ; and besides, sir, 
 when I said I would match you, I meant 
 with even weight J you ride four stone lighter 
 than 1." 
 
 " Very well ; but I am content to carry 
 weight. Pray what may that portmanteau 
 of yours weigh ?" 
 
 ^* My p — p — portmanteau ?" replied he 
 hesitating — " O very little — a feather — just 
 a few shirts and stockings." 
 
 *' I should think it heavier from the ap- 
 
ROB ROY. 67 
 
 pearance. I'll hold you the quart of claret 
 it makes the odds betwixt our weight." 
 
 •* You're mistaken, sir, I assure you— 
 quite mistaken," replied my friend, edging 
 off to the side of the road, as was his wont 
 on these alarming occasions. 
 
 *• Well, I'm willing to venture the wine ; 
 or, I will bet you ten pieces to five, that 
 I carry your portmanteau on my croupe, 
 and out-trot you into the bargain." 
 
 This proposal raised my friend's alarm 
 to the uttermost. His nose changed from 
 the natural copper hue which it had ac- 
 quired from many a comfortable cup of 
 claret, or sack, into a palish brassy tint, 
 and his teeth chattered with apprehension 
 at the unveiled audacity of my proposal, 
 which seemed to place the bare-faced plun- 
 derer before him in full atrocity. As he 
 faultered for an answer, 1 relieved him in 
 some degree by a question concerning a 
 steeple, which now became visible, and an 
 observation that we were now so near the 
 village as to run no risk from interruption 
 
68 ROB ROY. 
 
 upon the road. At this his countenance 
 cleared up ; but I easily perceived that it 
 was long ere he forgot a proposal which 
 seemed to him so fraught with suspicion as 
 that which I had now hazarded. 1 trouble 
 you with this detail of the man's disposi- 
 tion, and the manner in which I practised 
 upon it, because, however trivial in them- 
 selves, these particulars were attended by 
 an important influence upon future inci- 
 dents which will occur in this narrative. 
 At the time, this person's conduct only in- 
 spired me with contempt, and confirmed 
 me in an opinion, whieh I already enter- 
 tained, that of all the propensities which 
 teach mankind to torment themselves, that 
 of causeless fear is the most irritating, busy, 
 painful, and pitiable. 
 
ROB ROV. 69 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Scots are poor, cries surly English pride. 
 True is the charge ; nor by themselves denied. 
 Are they not, then, in strictest reason clear, 
 Who wisely come to mend their fortunes here ? 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 There was, in the days of which I write, 
 an old-fashioned custom upon the EngHsh 
 road, which I suspect is now obsolete, or 
 practised only by the vulgar. Journies of 
 length being made on horseback, and, of 
 course, by brief stages, it w^as usual always 
 to make a halt upon the Sunday in some 
 town w^here the traveller might attend di- 
 vine service, and his horse have the benefit 
 of the day of rest, the institution of which 
 is as humane to our brute labourers as pro- 
 fitable to ourselves, A counterpart to this 
 
70 ItOB ROY. 
 
 decent practice, and a remnant of old 
 English hospitality, was, that the landlord 
 of a principal inn laid aside his character 
 of publican upon the seventh day, and in- 
 vited the guests who chanced to be with- 
 in his walls to take a part of his family beef 
 and pudding. This invitation was usually 
 complied with by all whose distinguished 
 rank did not induce them to think compli- , 
 ance a derogation ; and the proposal of; 
 a bottle of wine after dinner, to drink the' 
 landlord's health, was the only recompencej 
 ever offered or accepted. 
 
 I was born a citizen of the world, and mv! 
 inclination led me into all scenes where my; 
 knowledge of mankind could be enlarged ;( 
 I had, besides, no pretensions to sequester? 
 myself on the score of superior dignity, and,,; 
 therefore, seldom failed to accept of thd 
 Sunday's hospitality of mine host, whether of 
 the Garter, Lion, or Bear. The honest pub- 
 lican, dilated into additional consequence^ 
 by a sense of his own importance, while 
 presiding among the guests on whom it 
 
ROB ROY. 71 
 
 was his ordinary duty to attend, was in 
 himself an entertaining spectacle ; and 
 around his genial orbit, other planets of in- 
 ferior consequence performed their revolu- 
 tions. The wits and humourists, the dis- 
 tinguished worthies of the town or village, 
 the apothecary, the attorney, even the cu- 
 rate himself, did not disdain to partake of 
 this hebdomadal festivity. The guests, as- 
 sembled from different quarters, and fol- 
 lowing different professions, formed, in 
 language, manners, and sentiments, a cu- 
 rious contrast to each other, not indifferent 
 to those who desired to possess a know- 
 ledge of mankind in its varieties. 
 
 It was upon such a day, and such an oc- 
 casion, that my timorous acquaintance and 
 I were about to grace the board of the 
 ruddy-faced host of the Black Bear, in the 
 town of Darlington, and bishoprick of Dur- 
 ham, when our landlord informed us, with 
 a sort of apologetic tone, that there was a 
 Scotch gentleman to dine with us. 
 " A gentleman ?— what sort of a gentle- 
 
72 HOB ROY. 
 
 man ?" said my companion, somewhat has- 
 tily, his mind, I suppose, running upon 
 gentlemen of the pad, as they were then 
 termed. 
 
 " Why, a Scotch sort of a gentleman, as 
 I said before," returned mine host ; '* they 
 are all gentle, ye mun know, though they 
 ha' narra shirt to back ; but this is a de- 
 centish hallion — a canny North Briton as 
 e'er crossed Berwick-bridge — I trow he's a 
 dealer in cattle." 
 
 " Let us have his company, by all means,** \ 
 answered my companion ; and then, turn- 
 ing to me, he gave vent to the tenor of his 
 own reflections. " I respect the Scotch, 
 sir ; I love and honour the nation for their 
 sense of morality. Men talk of their filth 
 and their poverty, but commend me to 
 sterling honesty, though clad in rags, as 
 the poet saith. I have been credibly asj 
 sured, sir, by men on whom I can depend, 
 that there was never known such a thing 
 in Scotland as a highway robbery." 
 
 " That's because they have nothing to 
 
ROB ROY. 73 
 
 lose," said mine host, with the chuckle of a 
 self-applauding wit. 
 
 ** No, no, landlord," answered a strong 
 deep voice behind him, " it's e'en because 
 your English gangers and supervisors, that 
 you have sent down benorth the Tweed, 
 have ta'en up the trade of thievery over the 
 heads of the native professors." 
 
 ** Well said, Mr Campbell," answered 
 the landlord ; *' I did nat think thou'd'st 
 been sa near us, mon. But thou kens I'm 
 an outspoken Yorkshire tyke— And how 
 go markets in the south ?" 
 
 " Even in the ordinar," replied Mr Camp- 
 bell ; " wise folks buy and sell, and fools 
 are bought and sold." 
 
 '* But wise men and fools both eat their 
 dinner," answered our jolly entertainer; 
 " and here a comes — as prime a buttock of 
 beef as e'er hungry mon stuck fork in." 
 
 So saying, he eagerly whetted his knife, 
 assumed his seat of empire at the head of 
 the board, and loaded the plates of his 
 sundry guests with his good cheer. 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
74 ROB ROY. 
 
 This was the first time I had heard the 
 Scottish accent, or, indeed, that I had fa- 
 miliarly met with an individual of the an- 
 cient nation by whom it was spoken. Yet, 
 from an early period, they had occupied 
 and interested my imagination. My father, 
 as is well known to you, was of an ancient 
 family in Northumberland, from whose seat 
 I was not very many miles distant. Tlie 
 quarrel betwixt him and his relatives was 
 such, that he scarcely ever mentioned the 
 race from which he sprung, and held as 
 the most contemptible species of vanity, 
 the weakness which is commonly termed 
 family pride. His ambition was only to be 
 distinguished as William Osbaldistone, the 
 first, at least one of the first, merchants on| 
 Change ; and to have proved him the lineal, 
 representative of William the Conqueror, 
 would have far less flattered his vanity than i 
 the hum and bustle which his approach was 
 wont to produce among the bulls, bears, 
 and brokers of Stock-alley. He wished, 
 no doubt, that I should remain in such ig- 
 norance of my relatives and descent as, 
 
 i 
 
ROB ROY. 75 
 
 might insure a correspondence between my 
 feelings and his own on this subject. But 
 bis designs, as will happen occasionally to 
 the wisest, were, in some degree at least, 
 counteracted by a being whom his pride 
 would never have supposed of importance 
 adequate to influence them in any way. 
 His nurse, an old Northumbrian woman, 
 attached to him from his infancy, was the 
 only person connected with his native pro- 
 vince for whom he retained any regard ; and 
 when fortune dawned upon him, one of the 
 first uses which he made of her favours, was 
 to give Mabel Rickets a place of residence 
 within his household. After the death of 
 my mother, the care of nursing me during 
 my childish illnesses, and of rendering all 
 those tender attentions which infancy exacts 
 from female affection, devolved on old Ma- 
 bel. Interdicted by her master from speak- 
 ing to him on the subject of the heaths, 
 glades, and dales of her beloved Northum- 
 berland, she poured herself forth to my infant 
 ear in descriptions of the scenes of her youth, 
 and long narratives of the events which tra- 
 
76 llOB ROY. 
 
 dition declared to have passed amongst thertl^* 
 To these I inclined my ear much more se- 
 riously than to graver, but less animated in^ 
 structors. Even yet, methinks I see old 
 Mabel, her head slightly agitated by the 
 palsy of age, and shaded by a close cap, as 
 white as the driven snow, — her face wrink- 
 led, but still retaining the healthy tinge 
 which it had acquired in rural labour. I 
 think I see her look around on the brick 
 walls and narrow street which presented 
 themselves from our windows, as she con- 
 cluded with a sigh the favourite old ditty, 
 which I then preferred, and — why should I 
 not tell the truth — which I still prefer, to 
 all the opera airs ever minted by the capri- 
 cious brain of an Italian Mus. D. — 
 
 Oh the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree. 
 They flourish best at home in tlie North Country ! 
 
 Now, in the legends of Mabel, the Scottish 
 nation was ever freshly remembered, with 
 all the embittered declamation of which the 
 narrator was capable. The inhabitants of 
 the opposite frontierserved in her narratives 
 
ROB ROY. 77 
 
 to fill up the parts which ogres and giants 
 with seven-leagued boots occupy in the or- 
 dinary nursery-tales. And how could it be 
 otherwise ? Was it not the Black Douglas 
 who slew with his own hand the heir of the 
 Osbaldistone family the day after he took 
 possession of his estate, surprising him and 
 his vassals while solemnizing a feast suited 
 to the occasion ? Was it not Wat the Devil 
 who drove all the year-old hogs off the braes 
 of Lanthorn-side, in the very recent days of 
 my grandfather's father? And had we not 
 many a trophy, but, according to old Ma- 
 bel's version of history, far more honour- 
 ably gained, to mark our vengeance of these 
 wrongs ? Did not Sir Henry Osbaldistone, 
 fifth baron of the name, carry off the fair 
 maid of Fairnington, as Achilles did his 
 Chryseis and Briseis of old, and detain her 
 in his fortress against all the power of her 
 friends, supported by the most mighty Scot- 
 tish chiefs of warlike fame ? And had not 
 our swords shone foremost at most of those 
 fields in which England was victorious over 
 
78 ROB ROY. 
 
 her rival ? All our family renown was ac- 
 quired, — all our family misfortunes were oc- 
 casioned, by the northern wars. 
 
 Warmed by such tales, I looked upon 
 the Scottish people, during my childhood, 
 as a race hostile by nature to the more 
 southern inhabitants of this realm ; and this 
 view of the matter was not much corrected 
 by the language which my father sometimes 
 held with respect to them. He had engaged 
 in some large speculations concerning oak- 
 woods, the property of Highland proprie- 
 tors, and alleged that he found them much 
 more ready to make bargains, and extort 
 earnest of the purchase- money, than punc- 
 tual in complying on their side with the 
 terms of the engagements. The Scotch 
 mercantile men, whom he was under the ne- 
 cessity of employing as a sort of middle- 
 men on these occasions, were also suspect- 
 ed by my father of having secured, by one 
 means or other, more than their own share 
 of the profit which ought to have accrued. 
 In short, if Mabel complained of the Scot- 
 
ROB ROY. 79 
 
 tish arms in ancient times, Mr Osbaldis- 
 tone inveighed no less against the arts of 
 these modern Sinons ; and between them, 
 thougli without any fixed purpose of do- 
 ing so, they impressed my youthful mind 
 with a sincere aversion to the northern inha- 
 bitants of Britain, as a people blood-thirsty 
 in time of war, treacherous during truce, 
 interested, selfish, avaricious, and tricky in 
 the business of peaceful life, and having 
 few good qualities, unless there should be 
 accounted such, a ferocity which resembled 
 courage in martial affairs, and in commerce 
 a sort of wily craft, whicli supplied the place 
 of wisdom, in the ordinary commerce of 
 mankind. In justification, or apology, for 
 those who entertained such prejudices, I 
 must remark, that the Scotch of the period 
 were guilty of similar injustice to the Eng- 
 lish, whom they branded universally as a 
 race of purse-proud arrogant epicures. Such 
 seeds of national dislike remained between 
 the two countries, the natural consequences 
 of their existence as separate and rival states. 
 
 10 
 
80 ROB ROY. 
 
 We have seen recently the breath of a de- 
 magogue blow these sparks into a temporary 
 flame, which I sincerely hope is now extin- 
 guished in its own ashes.* 
 
 It was, then, with an impression of dis- 
 like, that I contemplated the first Scotch- 
 man I chanced to meet in society. There 
 was much about him that coincided with 
 my previous conceptions. He had the hard 
 features and athletic form, said to be pecu- 
 liar to his country, together with the nation- 
 al intonation and slow pedantic mode of 
 expression, arising from the desire to avoid 
 peculiarities of idiom or dialect. I could 
 also observe the caution and shrewdness of 
 his country in many of the observations 
 which he made, and the answers which 
 he returned. But I was not prepared for 
 an air of easy self-possession and superi- 
 ority, with which he seemed to predomi- 
 
 * This seems to have been written about the time of 
 Wilkes and Liberty. 
 
ROB ROY. 81 
 
 nate over the company into which he was 
 thrown, as it were by accident. His dress 
 was as coarse as it could be, being still de- 
 cent ; and, at a time when great expence 
 was lavished upon the w^ardrobe, even of 
 the lowest who pretended to the character 
 of gentlemen, this indicated mediocrity c^ 
 circumstances, if not poverty. His conver- 
 sation intimated, that he was engaged in 
 the cattle-trade, no very dignified profes- 
 sional pursuit. And yet, under these disad- 
 vantages, he seemed, as a matter of course, 
 to treat the rest of the company wdth the 
 cool and condescending politeness, which 
 implies a real, or imagined, superiority over 
 those towards whom it is used. When he 
 gave his opinion on any point, it was with 
 that easy tone of confidence used by those 
 superior to their society in rank or infor- 
 mation, as if what he said could not be 
 doubted, and was not to be questioned. 
 Mine host and his Sunday guests, after an 
 effort or two to support their consequence 
 by noise and bold averment, sunk gradually 
 
 D 2 
 
82 ROB ROY. 
 
 under the authority of Mr Campbell, who 
 thus fairly possessed himself of the lead in 
 the conversation. I was tempted, from 
 curiosity, to dispute the ground with him 
 myself, confiding in my knowledge of the 
 world, extended, as it was, by my residence 
 abroad, and in the stores with which a to- 
 lerable education had possessed my mind. 
 In the latter respect, he offered no compe- 
 tition, and it was easy to see that his natu- 
 ral powers had never been cultivated by 
 education. But I found him much better 
 acquainted than I was myself with the pre- 
 sent state of France, the character of the 
 Duke of Orleans, who had just succeeded 
 to the regency of that kingdom, and that 
 of the statesmen by whom he was surround- 
 ed ; and his shrewd, caustic, and somewhat 
 satirical remarks, were those of a man who 
 had been a close observer of the affairs of 
 that country. 
 
 On the subject of politics, Campbell ob- 
 served a silence and moderation which 
 might arise from caution. The divisions of 
 
KOB HOY. 83 
 
 Whig and Tory then shook England to her 
 very centre, and a powerful party, engaged 
 in the Jacobite interest, menaced the dy- 
 nasty of Hanover, which had been just es- 
 tablished on the tlirone. Every ale-house 
 resounded with the brawls of contending 
 politicians, and as mine host's politics were 
 of that liberal description which quarrelled 
 with no good customer, his hebdomadal visi- 
 tants were often divided in their opinion as 
 irreconcileably as if he had feasted the Com- 
 mon Council. The curate and the apothe- 
 cary, with a little man, who made no boast 
 of his vocation, but who, from the flourish 
 and snap of his fingers, I believe to have 
 been the barber, strongly espoused the 
 cause of high church and the Stuart line. 
 The exciseman, as in duty bound, and the 
 attorney, who looked to some petty office 
 under the crown, together with my fellow- 
 traveller, who seemed to enter keenly into 
 the cO'Uest, stauncldy supported the cause 
 of King George and the Protestant sue- 
 
84 HOB ROY. 
 
 cession. Dire was the screaming — deep 
 the oaths ! Each party appealed to Mr 
 Campbell, anxious, it seemed, to elicit his 
 approbation. 
 
 " You are a Scotchman, sir ; a gentle- 
 man of your country must stand up for he- 
 reditary right," cried one party. 
 
 " You are a Presbyterian," assumed the 
 other class of disputants ; " you cannot be 
 a friend to arbitrary power." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said our Scotch oracle, 
 after having gained, with some difficulty, a 
 moment's pause, *' I havena much dubita- 
 tion that King George weel deserves the 
 predilection of his friends ; and if he can 
 haud the grip he has gotten, why, doubt- 
 less, he may make the ganger, here, a com- 
 missioner of the revenue, and confer on our 
 friend, Mr Quitam, the preferment of soli- 
 citor-general ; and he may also grant some 
 good deed or reward to this honest gentle- 
 man who is sitting upon his portmanteau, 
 which he prefers to a chair : And, question- 
 
ROB ROY. 85 
 
 less, King James is also a grateful person, 
 and when he gets his hand in play, he may, 
 if he be so minded, make this reverend 
 gentleman arch-prelate of Canterbury, and 
 Dr Mixit chief physician to his household, 
 and commit his royal beard to the care of 
 my friend Latherum. But as I doubt mickle 
 whether any of the competing sovereigns 
 would give Rob Campbell a tass of aqua- 
 vit2e if he lacked it, I give my vote and in- 
 terest to Jonathan Brown, our landlord, to 
 be the King and Prince of Skinkers, condi- 
 tionally that he fetches us another bottle 
 as good as the last." 
 
 This sally was received with general ap- 
 plause, in which the landlord cordially join- 
 ed ; and when he had given orders for ful- 
 filling tiie condition on which his prefer- 
 ment was to depend, he failed not to ac- 
 quaint them, " that, for as peaceable a gen- 
 tleman as Mr Campbell was, he was, more- 
 over, as bold as a lion — seven highwaymen 
 had he defeated with his single arm, that be> 
 set him as he came from Whitson-Tryste ." 
 
86 ROB ROY. 
 
 ** Thou art deceived, friend Jonathan,'* 
 said Campbell, interrupting him ; " they 
 were but barely two, and two cowardly 
 loons as man would wish to meet withal." 
 
 ** And did you, sir, really," said my fel- 
 low-traveller, edging his chair (I should 
 have said his portmanteau) nearer to Mr 
 Campbell, " really and actually beat two 
 highwaymen yourself alone ?" 
 
 ** In troth did I, sir," replied Campbell ; 
 *' and I think it nae gteat thing to make a 
 sang about." 
 
 " Upon my word, sir," replied my ac- 
 quaintance, ** I should be happy to have 
 the pleasure of your company upon my 
 journey — I go northward, sir." 
 
 This piece of gratuitous information con- 
 cerning the route he proposed to himself, 
 the first I had heard my companion bestow 
 upon any one, failed to excite the corres- 
 ponding confidence of the Scotchman. 
 
 ** We can scarce travel together," he re- 
 plied, drily. " You, sir, doubtless, are 
 well mounted, and I, for the present, travel 
 
ROB ROY. 87 
 
 upon foot, or on a Highland slielty, that 
 does not help me much faster forward." 
 
 So saying, he called for a reckoning for 
 the wine, and throwing down the price of 
 the additional bottle which he had himself 
 introduced, rose as if to take leave of us. 
 My companion made up to him, and, ta- 
 king him by the button, drew him aside in- 
 to one of the windows. I could not help 
 overhearing him pressing something; — I 
 supposed his company upon the journey, 
 which Mr Campbell seemed to decline. 
 
 " I will pay your charges, sir," said the 
 traveller, in a tone, as if he thought the ar- 
 gument should bear down all opposition. 
 
 " It is quite impossible," said Campbell, 
 somewhat contemptuously j " I have busi- 
 ness at Rothbury." 
 
 " But I am in no great hurry ; I can 
 ride out of the way, and never miss a day 
 or so for good company." 
 
 *' Upon my faith, sir," said Campbell, 
 ** I cannot render you the service you seem 
 to desiderate. I am," he added, drawing 
 
88 ROB ROY. 
 
 himself up haughtily, ** travelling on my 
 own private affairs, and if ye will act by my 
 advisement, sir, ye will unite yourself with 
 no stranger on the road, nor communicate 
 your line of journey to those who are ask- 
 ing ye no questions about it." He then ex- 
 tricated his button, not very ceremoniously, 
 from the hold which detained him, and, 
 coming up to me as the company were dis- 
 persing, observed, " Your friend, sir, is too 
 communicative, considering the nature of 
 his trust." 
 
 ** That gentleman,*' I replied, looking 
 towards the traveller, " is no friend of 
 mine, but an acquaintance whom I picked 
 up on the road. I know neither his name 
 nor business, and you seem to be deeper in 
 his confidence than I am." 
 
 " I only meant," he replied hastily, " that 
 he seems a thought rash in conferring the 
 honour of his company on those who desire 
 it not." 
 
 ** The gentleman," replied I, ** is best 
 judge of his own affairs, and I should be 
 
 I 
 
ROB ROY. 89 
 
 sorry to constitute myself a judge of them 
 in any respect." 
 
 Mr Campbell made no farther observa- 
 tion, but merely wished me a good journey, 
 and the party dispersed for the evening. 
 
 Next day I parted company with my 
 timid companion, as I left the great north- 
 ern road to turn more westerly in the di- 
 rection of Osbaldistone Manor, my uncle's 
 seat. I cannot tell whether he felt relieved 
 or embarrassed by my departure, consider- 
 ing the dubious light in which he seemed 
 to regard me. For my own part, his tre- 
 mors ceased to amuse me, and, to say the 
 truth, 1 was heartily glad to get rid of him. 
 
90 ROB itoy. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How melts my beating heart ! as I behold 
 Each lovely nymph, our island's boast and pride, 
 Push on the generous steed, that sweeps along 
 O'er rough, o'er smeoth, nor heeds the steepy hill. 
 Nor faulters in the extended vale below. 
 
 The Chace. 
 
 I APPROACHED my native north, for such 
 I esteemed it, with that enthusiasm which 
 romantic and wild scenery inspires in the 
 lovers of nature. No longer interrupted 
 by the babble of my companion, I could 
 now remark the difference which the coun- 
 try exhibited from that through which I had 
 hitherto travelled. The streams now more 
 properly deserved the name, for, instead 
 of slumbering stagnant among reeds and 
 
ROB ROY. 91 
 
 willows, they brawled along beneath the 
 shade of natural copsewood ; were now 
 hurried down declivities, and now purl- 
 ed more leisurely, but still in active mo- 
 tion, through little lonely vallies, which, 
 opening on the road from time to time, 
 seemed to invite the traveller to explore 
 their recesses. The Cheviots rose before 
 me in frowning majesty ; not, indeed, with 
 the sublime variety of rock and cliiF which 
 characterize mountains of the primary class, 
 but huge, round-headed, and clothed with 
 a dark robe of russet, gaining, by their ex- 
 tent and desolate appearance, an influence 
 upon the imagination, which possessed a 
 character of its own. 
 
 The abode of ray fathers, which I was 
 now approaching, was situated in a glen, or 
 narrow valley, which ran up among those 
 hills. Extensive estates, which once belong- 
 ed to the family, had been long dissipated 
 by the misfortunes or misconduct of my an- 
 cestors; but enough was still attached to the 
 old mansion, to give my uncle the title of a 
 
92 ROB ROY. 
 
 man of large property. This he employed 
 (as I was given to understand by some en- 
 quiries which I made on the road) in main- 
 taining the prodigal hospitality ofa northern 
 squire of the period, which he deemed es- 
 sential to his family dignity. 
 
 From the summit of an eminence, I had 
 already had a distant view of Osbaldistone 
 Hall, a large and antiquated edifice, peep- 
 ing out from a Druidical grove of huge 
 oaks; and I was directing my course to- 
 wards it, as straightly and as speedily as the 
 windings of a very indifferent road would 
 permit, when my horse, tired as he was, 
 pricked up his ears at the enlivening notes 
 ofa pack of hounds in full cry, cheered by 
 the occasional bursts of a French horn, 
 which in those days was a constant accom- 
 paniment to the chase. I made no doubt 
 that the pack was my nucleus, and drew up 
 my horse with the purpose of suffering the 
 hunters to pass without notice, aware that 
 a hunting field was not the proper scene to 
 introduce myself to a keen sportsman, and 
 
ROB ROY, 93 
 
 determined, when they had passed on, to 
 proceed to the mansion-house at my own 
 pace, and there to await the return of the 
 proprietor from his sport. I paused, there- 
 fore, on a rising ground, and, not unmoved 
 by the sense of interest which that species 
 of sylvan sport is so much calculated to in- 
 spire, (although my mind was not at the 
 moment very accessible to impressions of 
 this nature,) I expected with some eagerness 
 the appearance of the huntsmen. 
 
 The fox, hard run, and nearly spent, first 
 made his appearance from the copse which 
 clothed the right-hand side of the valley. 
 His drooping brush, his soiled appearance, 
 and jaded trot, proclaimed his fate impend- 
 ing ; and the carrion crow, which hovered 
 over him, already considered poor Reynard 
 as soon to be his prey. He crossed the 
 stream which divides the little valley, and 
 was dragging himself up a ravine on the 
 other side of its wild banks, when the head- 
 most hounds, followed by the rest of the 
 pack at full cry, burst from the coppice, 
 
94} ROB ROY. 
 
 followed by the huntsman, and three or 
 four riders. The dogs pursued the trace 
 of Reynard with unerring instinct; and the 
 hunters followed with reckless haste, re- 
 gardless of the broken and difficult nature 
 of the ground. They were tall, stout young 
 men, well mounted, and dressed in green 
 and red, the uniform of a sporting associa- 
 tion, formed under the auspices of old Sir; 
 Hildebrand Osbaldistone. My cousins!' 
 thought I, as they swept past me. The, 
 next reflection was, what is my receptionj 
 likely to be among these worthy successors 
 of Nimrod ? and how improbable is it, that^ 
 I, knowing little or nothing of rural sports,' 
 shall find myself at ease, or happy, in myj 
 uncle's family. A vision that passed me in- 
 terrupted these reflections. 
 
 It was a young lady, the loveliness of whose 
 very striking features was enhanced by the 
 animation of the chase and the glow of the 
 exercise, mounted on a beautiful horse, jet 
 black, unless where he was flecked by spots 
 of the snow-white foam which embossed his 
 
ROB ROY. 95 
 
 bridle. She wore, what w^as then somewhat 
 unusual, a coat, vest, and hat, resembling 
 those of a man, which fashion has since 
 called a riding-habit. The mode had been 
 introduced while I was in France, and was 
 perfectly new to me. Her long black hair 
 streamed on the breeze, having in the hurry 
 of the chase escaped from the ribbon which 
 bound it. Some very broken ground through 
 which she guided her horse with the most 
 admirable address and presence of mind, 
 retarded her course, and brought her closer 
 to me than any of the other riders had pass- 
 ed. I had, therefore, a full view of her un- 
 commonly fine face and person, to which an 
 inexpressible charm was added by the wild 
 gaiety of the scene, and the romance of 
 her singular dress and unexpected appear- 
 ance. As she past me, her horse made, 
 in his impetuosity, an irregular movement, 
 just while, coming once more upon open 
 ground, she was again putting him to his 
 speed. It served as an apology for me to 
 ride close up to her, as if to her assistancct 
 
96 ROB ROY. 
 
 There was, however, no cause for alarm j 
 it was not a stumble, nor a false step ; and 
 if it had, the fair Amazon had too much 
 self-possession to have been deranged by 
 it. She thanked my good intentions, how- 
 ever, by a smile, and I felt encouraged to 
 put my horse to the same pace, and to 
 keep in her immediate neighbourhood. The 
 clamour of " Whoop, dead, dead !" and the 
 corresponding flourish of the French horn, 
 soon announced to us that there was no 
 more occasion for haste, since the chase 
 was at a close. One of the young men 
 whom we had seen approached us, waving 
 the brush of the fox in triumph, as if to 
 upbraid my fair companion. 
 
 " I see," she repHed, — " 1 see ; but make 
 no noise about it ; if Phoebe," she said, 
 patting the neck of the beautiful animal on 
 whic'n she rode, " had not got among the 
 cliffs, you would have had little cause for 
 boasting." 
 
 They met as she spoke, and I observed 
 them both look at me and converse a mo- 
 
 3 
 
HOC ROY. 97 
 
 ment in an under tone, the young lady ap- 
 parently pressing the sportsman to do some- 
 thing which he declined shyly, and with a 
 sort of sheepish siillenness. She instantly 
 turned her horse's head towards me, say- 
 ing, — " Well, well, Thornie, if you wont. 
 I must, that's all. — Sir,"' she continued, ad- 
 dressing me ; " I have been endeavouring 
 to persuade this cultivated young gentle- 
 man to make enquiries at you, whether, in 
 the course of your travels in these parts, 
 you have heard any thing of a friend of ours, 
 one Mr Francis Osbaldistone, who has been 
 for some days expected at Osbaldistone 
 Hall ?" 
 
 I was too happy to acknowledge myself 
 to be the party enquired after, and to ex- 
 press my thanks for the obliging enquiries 
 of the young lady. 
 
 " In that case, sir," she rejoined, ** as 
 
 my kinsman's politeness seems to be still 
 
 i slumbering, you will permit me (though I 
 
 ; suppose it is highly improper) to stand 
 
 mistress of ceremonies, and to present to 
 
 VOL. r. E 
 
98^ ROB ROY. 
 
 you young Squire ThornclifF Osbaldistone, 
 your cousin, and Die Vernon, who has also 
 the honour to be your accomplished cou- 
 sin's poor kinswoman." 
 
 There was a mixture of boldness, satire, 
 and simplicity in the manner in which Miss 
 Vernon pronounced these words. My know- 
 ledge of life was sufficient to enable me to 
 take up a corresponding tone as I express- 
 ed my gratitude to her for her condescen- 
 sion, and my extreme pleasure at having 
 met with them To say the truth, the com- 
 pliment was so expressed, that the lady 
 might easily appropriate the greater share 
 of it, for Thorn cliffe seemed an arrant 
 country bumpkin, awkward, shy, and some- 
 what sulky withal. He shook hands with 
 me, however, and then intimated his inten- 
 tion of leaving me that he might help the 
 huntsman and his brothers to couple up the 
 hounds, a purpose which he rather commu- 
 nicated by way of information to Miss Ver- 
 npn than as apology to me. 
 
 " There he goes," said the young lady. 
 
ROB ROY. 99 
 
 following him with eyes in which disdain 
 was admirably painted, — '* the prince of 
 grooms and cock-fighters, and blackguard 
 horse-coursers. But there is not one of 
 them to mend another. — Have you read 
 Markham ?" said Miss Osbaldistone. 
 
 " Read whom, ma'am ?-^I do not even 
 remember the author's name." 
 
 " O lud ! on what a strand are you 
 wrecked ? — A poor forlorn and ignorant 
 stranger, unacquainted with the very Al- 
 coran of the savage tribe vvhom you are 
 come to reside with — Never to hav^e heard 
 of Markham, the most celebrated author on 
 farriery ! then I fear you are equally a stran- 
 ger to the more modern names of Gibson 
 and Bartk'tt ?" 
 
 " 1 am, indeed. Miss Vernon.'* 
 
 " And do you not blush to own it ? — 
 Why, we must forswear your alliance. Then, 
 I suppose, you can neither give a ball, nor 
 a mash, nor a orn ?" 
 
 " I confess I trust all these matters to an 
 ostler, or to my groom," 
 
100 ROB ROY. 
 
 ** Incredible carelessness l— And you can- 
 not shoe a horse, or cut his mane and 
 tail ; or worm a dog, or crop his ears, or 
 cut his dew-claws ; or reclaim a hawk, or 
 give him his casting stones, or direct his diet 
 when he is sealed ; or — " 
 
 *' To sum my insignificance in one w^ord, 
 I am profoundly ignorant in all these rural 
 accomplishments." 
 
 <* Then, in the name of Heaven, Mr 
 Francis Osbaldistone, whsit can you do?" 
 
 " Very little to the purpose, Miss Ver- 
 non ; something, however, I can pretend 
 to — When my groom has dressed my horse, 
 I can ride upon him, and when my hawk is 
 in the field, I can fly him.*' 
 
 " Can you do this ?" said the young lady, 
 putting her horse to a canter. 
 
 There was a sort of rude over-grown 
 fence crossed the path before us, with a 
 gate, composed of pieces of wood rough 
 from the forest ; I was about to move for- 
 ward to open it, when Miss Vernon cleared 
 the obstruction at a flying leap. I was 
 
ROB ROY, 101 
 
 bound, in point of Iionoiir, to follow, and 
 was in a moment again at her side. 
 
 '< Tiiere are hopes of you yet," she saidr 
 ** I was afraid you had been a very dege- 
 nerate Osbaldistone. But what on earth 
 brings you to Cub-Castle ? — for so the 
 neighbours have christened this hunting- 
 hall of ours. You miglit have staid away^ 
 I suppose, if you would?" 
 
 I felt I was by this time on a very inti- 
 mate footing with my beautiful apparition, 
 and therefore replied in a confidential un- 
 der-tone, — ** Indeed, my dear Miss Vernoir, 
 I might have considered it as a sacrifice to 
 be a temporary resident in Osbaldistone 
 Hall, the inmates being such as you de- 
 scribe them ; but I am convinced there is 
 one exception that will make amends for 
 all deficiencies." 
 
 " O, you mean Rashleigh ?" said ^liss 
 Vernon. 
 
 " Indeed I do not ; I was thinking- 
 forgive me — of some person much nearei: 
 me," 
 
102 ROB ROY. 
 
 ** 1 suppose it would be proper not to 
 understand your civility ? — But that is not 
 my way — I don't make a curtsey for it, be- 
 cause I am sitting on horseback. But, se- 
 riously, I deserve your exception, for I am 
 the only conversible being about the Hall, 
 except the old priest and Rashleigh." 
 
 " And who is Rashleigh, for Heaven's 
 sake ?" 
 
 " Rashleigh is one who would fain have 
 every one like him for his own sake. — He 
 is Sir Hildebrand's youngest son — about 
 your own age, but not so — not well look- 
 ing, in short. But Nature has given him a 
 mouthful of common sense, and the priest 
 has added a bushelfull of learning — he is 
 what we all call a very clever man in this 
 country, where clever men are scarce. Bred 
 to the church, but in no hurry to take or- 
 ders." 
 
 «' To the Catholic Church ?" 
 
 « The CathoHc Church ! what church 
 else ? — But I forgot, they told me you are 
 a heretic. Is that true, Mr Osbaldistone ?" 
 
 1 
 
HOB ROY. 10 
 
 o 
 
 <* I must not deny the charge." 
 
 ** And yet you have been abroad, and in 
 Catholic countries ?'* 
 
 " For nearly four years." 
 
 " You have seen convents ?" 
 
 *« Often ; but I have not seen much in 
 them which recommended the Catholic re- 
 ligion." 
 
 *' Are not the inhabitants happy ?" 
 
 <' Some are unquestionably so, whom ei- 
 ther a profound sense of devotion, or an 
 experience of the persecutions and misfor- 
 tunes of the world, or a natural apathy of 
 temper, has led into retirement. Those 
 who have adopted a life of seclusion from 
 sudden and overstrained enthusiasm, or in 
 hasty resentment of some disappointment 
 or mortitication, are very miserable. The 
 quickness of sensation soon returns, and, 
 like the wilder animals in a menagerie, they 
 are restless under continement, wiiile others 
 muse or fatten in cells of no larger dunen- 
 sions than theirs." 
 
 " And what," continued Miss Vernon, 
 
104 ROB ROY. 
 
 " becomes of those victims who are con- 
 demned to a convent by the will of others ? 
 what do they resemble? especially, what do 
 they resemble, if they are born to enjoy life, 
 and feel its blessings ?" 
 
 '• They are like imprisoned singing-birds, 
 condemned to wear out their lives in con- 
 finement, which they try to beguile by the 
 exercise of accomplishments, which would 
 have adorned society, had they been left at 
 large." 
 
 *< I shall be," returned Miss Vernon— 
 " that is," said she, correcting herself,— 
 " I would be rather like the wild hawk, 
 who, barred the free exercise of his soar 
 through heaven, will dash himself to pieces 
 against the bars of his cage. But to return 
 to Rashleigh," said she, in a more lively 
 tone, ** you will think him the pleasantest 
 man you ever saw in your life, Mr Osbal- 
 distone, that is for a week at least. If he 
 could find out a blind mistress, never man 
 would be so secure of conquest ; but the 
 eyes break the spell that enchants the ear. 
 
ROB ROY. 105 
 
 But here we are in the court of the old 
 hall, which looks as wild and old-fashioned 
 as any of its inmates. There is no great 
 toilette kept at Osbaldistone, you must 
 know ; but I must take off these things, 
 they are so unpleasantly warm, and the hat 
 hurts my forehead too," continued the lively 
 girl, taking it off, and shaking down a pro- 
 fusion of sable ringlets, which, half laugh- 
 ing, half blushing, she separated w4th her 
 white slender fingers, in order to clear them 
 away from her beautiful face and piercing 
 hazel eyes. If there was any coquetry in 
 the action, it was well disguised by the care- 
 less indifference of her manner. 1 could not 
 not help sayin<T, <« that, judging of the fa- 
 mily from what I saw, 1 should suppose the 
 toilette a very unnecessary care." 
 
 '* That's very politely said ; though, per* 
 haps, longht not to understand in what sense 
 it was meant," rephed Miss Vernon ; '« but 
 you will see a better apology for a little 
 negligence, when you meet the Orsons you 
 are to live amongst, whose forms no toilette' 
 
 E 2- 
 
106 ROB ROY. 
 
 could improve. But, as I said before, the 
 old dinner-bell will clang, or rather clank, 
 in a few minutes — it cracked of its own ac- 
 cord at the day of the landing of King 
 Willie, and my uncle, respecting its pro- 
 phetic talent, would never permit it to be 
 mended. So do you hold my palfrey, like 
 a duteous knight, until I send some more 
 humble squire to relieve you of the charge," 
 She threw me the rein as if we had been 
 acquainted from our childhood, jumped from 
 her saddle, tripped across the court-yard, and 
 entered at a side-door, leaving me in admi- 
 ration of her beauty, and astonished with the 
 overfrankness of her manners, which seem- 
 ed the more extraordinary at a time when 
 the dictates of politeness, flowing from the 
 court of the Grand Monarque Louis XIV., 
 prescribed to the fair sex an unusual seve- 
 rity of decorum. I was left awkw^ardly 
 enough stationed in the centre of the court 
 of the old hall, mounted on one horse, and 
 holding another in my hand. The build- 
 ing atlbrded little to interest a stranger, had 
 
ROB ROY. 107 
 
 1 been disposed to consider it attentively ; 
 the sides of the quadrangle were of various 
 architecture, and with their stone-shafted 
 latticed windows, projecting turrets, and 
 massive architraves, resembled the inside 
 of a convent, or of one of the older and 
 less splendid colleges of Oxford. I called 
 for a domestic, but was for some time to- 
 tally unattended to ; which was the more 
 provoking, as I could perceive I was the 
 object of curiosity to several servants, both 
 male and female, from different parts of 
 the building, who popped out their heads 
 and withdrew them, like rabbits in a war- 
 ren, before I could make a direct appeal to 
 the attention of any individual. The re- 
 turn of the huntsmen and hounds relieved 
 me from my embarrassment, and with some 
 difficulty I got one clown to relieve me of 
 the charge of the horses, and another stu- 
 pid boor to guide me to the presence of Sir 
 Hildebrand. This service he performed 
 with much such grace and good will, as a 
 peasant who is compelled to act as guide 
 
108 HOB ROY. 
 
 to a hostile patrole, and in the same man- 
 ner I was obhged to guard against his de- 
 serting me in the labyrinth of low-vaulted 
 passages which conducted to " Stun Hall," 
 as he called it, where I was to be introduced 
 to the gracious presence of my uncle. 
 
 We did, however, at length reach a long 
 vaulted room, floored with stone, where a 
 range of oaken tables, of a weight and size 
 too massive ever to be moved aside, were 
 already covered for dinner. Thi§ venerable 
 apartment, which had witnessed the feast 
 of several generations of the Osbaldistone 
 family, bore also evidence of their suc- 
 cess in field-sports. Huge antlers of deer, 
 which might have been the trophies^ of 
 the hunting of Chevy Chace, were ranged 
 around the walls, interspersed with the 
 stuffed skins of badgers, otters, martins, 
 and other animals of chace. Amidst some 
 remnants of old armour, which had, per- 
 haps, served against the Scotch, hung the 
 more valued weapons of Sylvan war, cross- 
 bov/s, guns of various device and construe- 
 
ROB ROY. 109 
 
 tion, nets, fishing-rods, otter spears, hunt- 
 ing poles, with many other singular devices 
 and engines for taking or killing game. 
 A few old pictures, dimmed with smoke, 
 and stained with March beer, hung on the 
 walls, representing knights and ladies, ho- 
 noured, doubtless, and renowned in their 
 day ; these frowning fearfully from huge 
 bushes of wig and of beard; and those look- 
 ing delightfully with all their might at the 
 roses which they brandished in their hands. 
 I had just time to give a glance at these 
 matters, when about twelve blue-coated ser- 
 vants burst into the hall with much tumult 
 and talk, each rather employed in directing 
 his comrades than in discharging his own 
 duty. Some brought blocks and billets to 
 the fire, which roared, blazed, and ascend- 
 ed, half in smoke, half in flame, up a huge 
 tunnel, with an opening wide enough to ac- 
 commodate a stone-seat within its ample 
 vault, and which was fronted, by way of 
 chimney-piece, with a huge piece of heavy 
 architecture, where the monsters of heralds 
 
110 ROB ROY. 
 
 ry, emboriiecl by the art of some Northum- 
 brian chibel, grinned and ramped in red 
 free stone, now japanned by the smoke of 
 centuries. Others of these old-fashioned 
 serving men bore hus^e smoking dishes, 
 loaded with substantial fare; others brought 
 in cups, flaggons, bottles, yea barrels of li- 
 quor. All tramped, kicked, plunged, shoul- 
 dered, and jostled, doing as bttle service 
 with as much tumult as could well be ima- 
 gined. At length, while the dinner was, 
 after various efforts, in the act of being ar- 
 ranged upon the board, the " clamour much 
 of men and dogs," the cracking of whips, 
 calculated for the intimidation of the latter, 
 voices loud and high, steps which, impress- 
 ed by the heavy-heeled boots of the period, 
 clattered like those in the statue of the 
 Festiu de pierre^* announced the arrival of 
 those for whose beneiit the preparations 
 were made. The hubbub among the ser- 
 vants rather increased than diminished as 
 
 * Now called Don Juan. 
 
ROB HOY. Ill 
 
 this crisis approached, — some called to 
 make haste, others to take time, — >ome 
 exhorted to stand out of the way, and make 
 room for Sir Hildebrand and thv young 
 squires, — some to close round the table, 
 and be /;/ the way, — some to open, some 
 to shut a pair of folding doors, which divi- 
 ded the hall from a sort of gallery, as I af- 
 terwards learned, or wiihdrawint^ room, fit- 
 ted up with black wainscoat. Opened the 
 doors were at length, and in rushed curs 
 and men, — eight 'logs, the domestic chap- 
 lain, the village doctor, my six cousins, and 
 ray uncle. 
 
112 ROB ROY. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The rude hall rocks — they come, they come,— 
 The din of voices shakes the dome ; — 
 In stalk the various forms, and, drest 
 In varying morion — varying vest, 
 
 All march with haughty step — all proudly shake the crest. 
 
 Penrose. 
 
 If Sir Hiidebrand Osbaldistone was in 
 no hurry to greet his nephew, of whose ar- 
 rival he must have been informed for some 
 time, he had important avocations to allege 
 in excuse. ** Had seen thee sooner, lad," 
 he exclaimed, after a rough shake of the 
 hand, and a hearty welcome to Osbaldi- 
 stone Hall, " but had to see the hounds 
 kennelled first. Thou art welcome to the 
 hall, lad — here is thy cousin Percie, thy 
 cousin Thornie, and thy cousin John— 
 your cousin Dick, your cousin Wilfred, 
 
ROB ROY. 113 
 
 and — stay, where's Rashleigh— aye, here's 
 
 Raslileigh take thy long body aside, 
 
 Thornie, and let's see thy brother a bit — 
 your cousin Rashleigh — So thy father has 
 thought on the old hall, and old Sir Hilde- 
 brand at last — better late than never — Thou 
 art welcome, lad, and there's enough — 
 Where's my little Die — aye, here she comes 
 — this is my niece Die, my wife's brother's 
 daughter — the prettiest girl in our dales, 
 be the other who she mav — and so now let's 
 to the sirloin." — 
 
 To gain some idea of the person who 
 held this language, you must suppose, my 
 dear Tresham, a man aged about sixty, in a 
 hunting suit which had once been richly 
 laced, but whose splendour had been tar- 
 nished by many a November and Decem- 
 ber storm. Sir Hildebrand, notwithstand- 
 ing the abruptness of his present manner, 
 had, at one period of his life, known courts 
 and camps ; had held a commission in the 
 army which encamped on Hounslow Heath 
 previous to the Revolution, and, recom- 
 
114 ROB ROY. 
 
 mended perhaps by his religion, had been 
 knighted about the same period by the un- 
 fortunate and ill-advised James II. But his 
 dreams of further preferment, if he ever 
 entertained any, had died away at the crisis 
 which drove his patron from the throne, 
 and since that period he had spent a seques- 
 tered life upon his native domains. Not- 
 withstanding his rusticity, however. Sir Hil- 
 debrand retained much of the exterior of ^ 
 gentleman, and appeared among his sons 
 as the remains of a Corinthian pillar, de- 
 faced and overgrown with moss and lichen, 
 might have looked, if contrasted with the 
 rough, unhewn masses of upright stones in 
 Stonhenge, or any other druidical temple 
 The sons were, indeed, heavy unadorned 
 blocks as the eye would desire to look up. 
 on. Tall, stout, and comely, all and eacl. 
 of the five eldest seemed to want alike the 
 Promethean fire of intellect, and the exterioi 
 grace and manner, which, in the polished 
 world, sometimes supplies mental deficien- 
 cy. Their most valuable moral qualit) 
 
ROB ROY. 115 
 
 seemed to be tlie good-humour and content 
 which was expressed in their heavy features, 
 and their only pretence to accompHshment 
 was their dexterity in the field sports, for 
 which alone they lived. The strong Gyas, 
 and the strong Cloanthus, are not less dis- 
 tinguished by the poet, than the strong 
 Percival, the strong Thorncliff, the strong 
 John, Richard, Wilfred Osbaldistones, were 
 by outward appearance. 
 
 But, as if to indemnify herself for an uni- 
 formity so uncommon in her productions, 
 Dame Nature had rendered Rashleigh Os- 
 baldistone a striking contrast in person and 
 manner, and, as 1 afterwards learned, in 
 temper and talents, not only to his brothers, 
 but to most men whom I had hitherto met 
 with. When Percie, Thornie, and Com- 
 ipany had respectively nodded, grinned, 
 :ind presented their shoulder, rather than 
 [their hand, as their father named them to 
 i:heir new kinsman, Rashleigh stepped for- 
 i-Arard, and welcomed me to Osbaldistone 
 yHall, with the air and manner of a man of 
 
116 
 
 ROB ROY. 
 
 this world. His appearance was not in it- 
 self prepossessing. He was of low stature, 
 whereas all his brethren seemed to be de- 
 scendants of Anak ; and, while they were 
 handsomely formed, Rashleigh, thougl 
 strong in person, was bull-necked and cross- 
 made, and, from some early injury in hi 
 youth, had an imperfection in his gait, s( 
 much resembling an absolute halt, tha 
 many alleged that it formed the obstacL 
 to his taking orders, the church of Rome 
 as is well known, admitting none to the cle 
 rical profession who labours under any pei 
 sonal deformity. Others, however, ascribe 
 this unsightly defect to a m.ere awkward he 
 bit, and contended, that it did not amount t 
 a personal disqualification from holy ordeii^ 
 The features of Rashlei^h were such, ai 
 having looked upon, we in vain wish to hi 
 nish from our mem or v, to which thev recujl 
 as ol)jects of painful curiosity, although \v\ 
 dwell upon them with a feeling of dislik( 
 and even of disgust. It was not the actui 
 plainness of his face, taken separately frolj 
 
ROB ROY. 117 
 
 the meaning, which made this strong im- 
 pression. His features were, indeed, irre- 
 gular, but they were by no means vulgar ; 
 and his keen dark eyes, and shaggy eye- 
 brows, redeemed his face from the charge 
 of common -place ugliness. But there was 
 in these eyes an expression of art and de- 
 sign, and, on provocation, a ferocity tem- 
 pered by caution, which nature had made 
 obvious to the most ordinary physiognomist, 
 perhaps with the same intention that she 
 has given the rattle to the poisonous snake. 
 As if to compensate him for these disad- 
 vantages of exterior, Rashleigh Osbaldistone 
 iwas possessed of a voice the most soft, mel- 
 low, and rich in its tones that I ever heard, 
 'md was at no loss for language of every 
 jort suited to so fine an organ. His first 
 ti>entence of welcome was hardly ended, ere 
 li I internally agreed with Miss Vernon, that 
 «ny new kinsman would make an instant 
 ^t conquest of a mistress whose ears alone 
 iiivere to judge his cause. He was about to 
 0B)lace himself beside me at dinner, but Miss 
 
1 1 8 ROB ROY. 
 
 Vernon, who, as the only female in the fa- 
 mily, arranged all such matters according to 
 her own pleasure, contrived that 1 should sit 
 betwixt '1 horncliffand her, and it can scarce 
 be doubted that I favoured this more ad- 
 vantageous arrangement 
 
 " I want to speak with you," she said^' 
 <' and 1 have placed honest Thornie be-' 
 twixt Rashleigh and you on purpose. He 
 will be — 
 
 Featherbed *twixt castle wall 
 And heavy brunt of cannon ball ; 
 
 while I, your earliest acquaintance in thi^ 
 intellectual family, ask ot you how you like 
 us all r i 
 
 *' A very comprehensive question, Mis^ 
 Vernon, considering how short while I hav^ 
 been at O^baldistone Hall/' '; 
 
 ** O, the {)hilosophv of our family lies OD 
 the surface — there are minute shades distin.i 
 guishing the individuals, which require the 
 eye of an inteliigent observer j but tiie spe 
 
 
UOB ROY. 119 
 
 cies, as naturalists, I believe, call it, may be 
 distinguished and characterized at once.** 
 
 •* JVJ}' five elder cousins, then, are, I pre- 
 sume, of prefy nearly the same character.*' 
 ** Yes, they form a happy compound of 
 sot, game-keeper, bully, horse-jockey, and 
 fool ; but, as they say there cannot be 
 found two leaves on the same tree exactly 
 ahke, so these happy ingredients, being 
 (Tiingled in somewhat various proportions ia 
 i^ach individual, make an agreeable variety 
 for those who like to study character." 
 
 ** Give me a sketch, if you please. Miss 
 iTernon." 
 
 I ** You shall have them all in a family- 
 )iece, at full length — the favour is too easily 
 p-anted to be refused. Percie, the son and 
 leir, has more of the sot than of the game- 
 :eeper, bully, horse-jockey, orfool — My pre- 
 ious Thornie is more of the bully than the 
 ot, game-keeper, jockey, or fool— John, 
 /ho sleeps whole weeks amongst the hills, 
 tas most ot the game keeper — The jockey 
 |i most powerful with Dickon, who rides 
 
 8 
 
120 ROB ROY. 
 
 two hundred miles by day and night to be 
 bought and sold at a horse-race — And the 
 fool predominates so much over Wilfred's 
 other qualities, that he may be termed a 
 fool positive." 
 
 *« A goodly collection, Miss Vernon, and 
 the individual varieties belong to a most in- 
 teresting species ; but is there no room on 
 the canvas for Sir Hildebrand ?" 
 
 " I love my uncle," was her reply : *« J 
 owe him some kindness, (such it was meant 
 for at least,) and 1 will leave you to draw 
 his picture yourself, when you know him 
 better." 
 
 " Come," thought I to myself, ** I an= 
 glad there is some forbearance ; after all 
 who would have looked for such bitter sa 
 tire from a creature so young and so exqui 
 sitely beautiful ?" 
 
 *' You are thinking of me," she said| 
 bending her dark eyes on me, as if sh( 
 meant to pierce through my very soul. 
 
 *« 1 certainly was," I replied with sonu 
 embarrassment at tiie determined suddeni 
 
 10 
 
ROB ROY. 121 
 
 ness of the question, and then endeavour- 
 ing to give a complimentary turn to my 
 frank avowal. " How is it possible I should 
 think of any thing else, seated as I have the 
 happiness to be ?" 
 
 She smiled with such an expression of 
 concentrated haughtiness as she alone could 
 have thrown into her countenance. " I 
 must inform you at once, Mr Osbaldis- 
 toue, that compliments are entirely lost 
 upon me ; do not, therefore, throw away 
 your pretty sayings — they serve line gentle- 
 men who travel in the country, instead of 
 the toys, beads, and bracelets, which navi- 
 gators carry to propitiate the savage inha- 
 bitants of newly discovered countries. Do 
 not exhaust your stock in trade — you will 
 find natives in Northumberland to whom 
 your fine things will recommend you — on 
 me they would be utterly thrown away, for 
 I happen to know their real value." 
 
 I was silenced and confounded. 
 
 " You remind me at this moment," said 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
122 liOB ROY. 
 
 the young lady, resuming her lively and in- 
 different inanner, ** of the fairy tale, where 
 the man finds all the money which he had 
 carried to market suddenly changed into 
 pieces of slate. I have cried down and 
 ruined your whole stock of complimentary 
 discourse by one unlucky observation. But, 
 come, never mind it — You are belied, Mr 
 Osbaldistone, unless you have much better 
 conversation than these fade ursy which eve- 
 ry gentleman with a toupet thinks himself 
 obliged to recite to an unfortunate girl, 
 merely because she wears silk and gauze, 
 while he wears superfine cloth with em- 
 broidery. Your natural paces, as any of my 
 five cousins might say, are far preferable to 
 your complimentary amble. Endeavour to 
 forget my unlucky sex ; call me Tom Ver- 
 non, if you have a mind, but speak to me 
 as you would to a friend and companion ; 
 vou have no idea how much I shall like 
 you." 
 
 " That would be a bribe, indeed," re- 
 turned I. 
 
JlOB ROY. 123 
 
 «* Again !" replied Miss Vernon, holding 
 up her finger; '< 1 told you 1 would not 
 bear the shadow of a compliment. And 
 now, when you have pledged my uncle, 
 who threatens you with what he calls a 
 brimmer, I will tell you what you think of 
 me." 
 
 The bumper being pledged by me, as a 
 dutiful nephew, and some other general in- 
 tercourse of the table having taken place, 
 the continued and business-like clang of 
 knives and forks, and the devotion of cou- 
 sin ThornclifFe on my right hand, and cou- 
 sin Dickon, who sate on Miss Vernon's left, 
 to the huge quantities of meat with which 
 they heaped their plates, made them serve 
 as two occasional partitions, separating us 
 from the rest of the company, and leaving 
 us to our tete-a-tete. " And now," said I, 
 '* give me leave to ask you frankly. Miss 
 Vernon, what you suppose I am thinking 
 of you ? — I could tell you what 1 really do 
 think, but you have interdicted praise." 
 
 " I do not want your assistance. I am 
 
124i ROB ROY. 
 
 conjuror enough to tell your thoughts with- 
 out it. You need not open the casement 
 of your bosom ; I see through it. You 
 think me a strange bold girl, half coquette, 
 half romp ; desirous of attracting attention 
 by the freedom of her manners and loudness 
 of her conversation, because she is ignorant 
 of what the Spectator calls the softer graces 
 of the sex ; and perhaps you think I have 
 some particular plan of storming you into 
 admiration. I should be sorry to shock 
 your self opinion, but you were never more 
 mistaken. All the confidence I have re- 
 posed in you, I would have given as readily 
 to your father, if I thought he could have 
 understood me. I am in this happy family 
 as much secluded from inteUigent listeners 
 as Sancho in the Sierra Morena, and when 
 opportunity offers, I must speak or die. I 
 assure you I would not have told you a 
 word of all tliis curious intelligence, had I 
 cared a pin who knew it or knew it not." 
 
 " It is very cruel in you, Miss Vernon, 
 to take away all particular marks of favour 
 
ROB ROY. 125 
 
 from your communications, but I must re- 
 ceive them on your own terms. — You liave 
 not included Mr Rashleigh Osbaldistone in 
 your domestic sketches." 
 
 She shrunk, I thought, at this remark, 
 and hastily answered, in a much lower tone, 
 <* Not a word of Rashleigh ! His ears are so 
 acute when his selfishness is interested, thafe 
 the sounds would reach him even through 
 the mass of ThornclifFe's person, stuffed as 
 it is with beef, venison-pasty, and pud- 
 ding." 
 
 *' Yes," I replied ; " but peeping past the 
 living screen which divides us, before I put 
 the question, I perceived that Mr ilash- 
 leigh's chair was empty — he has left the 
 table." 
 
 " I would not have you be too sure of 
 that," Miss Vernon replied. *« Take my 
 advice, and when you speak of Rashleigh, 
 get up to the top of Otterscope-hill, where 
 you can see for twenty miles round you in 
 every direction — stand on the very peak, 
 and speak in whispers } and, after all, don't 
 
V26 ROB ROY. 
 
 be too sure that the bird of the air shall not 
 carry the matter. Rashleigh has been my 
 tutor for four years ; we are mutually tired 
 of each other, and we shall heartily rejoice 
 at our approaching separation." 
 
 " Mr Rashleigh leaves Osbaldistone-Hall, 
 then ?" 
 
 ** Yes, in a few days ; — did you not know 
 that ? — Your father must keep his resolu- 
 tions much more secret than Sir Hilde- 
 brand. Why, when my uncle was inform- 
 ed that you were to be his guest for some 
 time, and that your father desired to have 
 one of his hopeful sons to fill up the lucra- 
 tive situation in liis counting-house, which 
 was vacant by your obstinacy, Mr Francis, 
 the good knight held a cour plem'ere of all 
 his family, including the butler, house- 
 keeper, and gamekeeper. This reverend 
 assembly of the peers and household offi- 
 cers of Osbaldistone Hall was not convo- 
 ked, as you may suppose, to elect your sub- 
 stitute, because, as Rashleigh alone possess- 
 ed more arithmetic than w^as necessary to 
 
ROB IloY. 127 
 
 calculate the odds on a fighting cock, none 
 but he could be supposed qualified for the 
 situation. But some solemn sanction was 
 necessary for transforming Rashleigh's des- 
 tination from starving as a Catholic priest, 
 to thriving as a wealthy banker ; and it 
 was not without some reluctance that the 
 acquiescence of the assembly was obtained 
 to such an act of degradation." 
 
 *' I can conceive the scruples — but how 
 were they got over r" 
 
 " By the general wish, I believe, to get 
 Rashleigh out of the house," replied Miss 
 Vernon. " Although youngest of the fa- 
 mily, he has somehow or other got the en- 
 tire management of all the others ; and 
 every one is sensible of the su])jection, 
 though they cannot sliake it off. If any 
 one opposes him, he is sure to rue having 
 done so before the year goes about ; and 
 if you do him a very important service, you 
 may rue it still more." 
 
 ** At that rate," answered I, smiling, ** I 
 should look about me; for I have been 
 
1^8 ROB ROY. 
 
 the cause, however unintentionally, of his 
 change of situation." 
 
 *^ Yes ! and whether he regards it as an 
 advantage or disadvantage, he will owe you 
 a grudge for it — But here come cheese, ra- 
 dishes, and a bumper to church and king, 
 the hint for chaplains and ladies to disap- 
 pear ; and I, the sole representative of 
 womanhood at Osbaldistone Hall, retreat^ 
 as in duty bound." 
 
 She vanished as she spoke, leaving me in 
 astonishment at the mingled character of 
 shrewdness, audacity, and frankness which 
 her conversation displayed. I despair con- 
 veying to you the least idea of her manner^ 
 although I have, as nearly as I can remem- 
 ber, imitated her language. In fact, there 
 was a mixture of untaught simplicity, as well 
 as native shrewdness and haughty boldness in 
 her manner, and all were modified and re- 
 commended by the play of the most beauti- 
 ful features I had ever beheld. It is not to 
 be thought that, however strange and un- 
 common I might think her liberal and unre- 
 
ROB HOY. 129 
 
 served communications, a young man of 
 two-and-twenty was likely to be severely cri- 
 tical on a beautiful girl of eighteen, for not 
 observing a proper distance towards him j 
 on the contrary, I was equally diverted 
 and flattered by Miss Vernon's confidence; 
 and that notwithstanding her declaration 
 that it was conferred on me solely be- 
 cause I was the first auditor who occur- 
 red, of intelligence enough to compre- 
 hend it. With the presumption of my age, 
 certainly not diminished by my residence 
 in France, I imagined, that well-formed 
 features, and a handsome person, both 
 which I conceived myself to possess, were 
 not unsuitable qualifications for the con- 
 fident of a young beauty. My vanity 
 thus enlisted in Miss Vernon's behalf, I 
 was far from judging her with severity, 
 merely for a frankness w-hich, I supposed, 
 was in some degree justified by my own 
 personal merit ; and the feelings of partia- 
 lity, which her beauty, and the singularity 
 of her situation, were of themselves calcu- 
 
 F 2 
 
130 ROB KQY. 
 
 lated to excite, were enhanced by my opi- 
 nion of her penetration and judgment in 
 her choice of a friend. 
 
 After Miss Vernon quitted the apart- 
 ment, the bottle circulated, or rather flew 
 around the table in unceasing revolution. 
 My foreign education had given me a dis-» 
 taste to intemperance, then and yet too 
 common a vice among my countrymen. 
 The conversation which seasoned such or- 
 gies was as little to my taste, and, if any 
 thing could render it more disgusting, it 
 was the relationship of the company. I 
 therefore seized a lucky opportunity, and 
 made my escape through a side-door, lead- 
 ing Iknew^ not whither, rather than endure 
 any longer the sight of father and sons prac- 
 tising the same degrading intemperance, and 
 holding the same coarse and disgusting con- 
 versation. I was pursued, of course, as I 
 had expected, to be reclaimed by force, as a 
 deserter from the shrine of Bacchus. When 
 I heard the whoop and hollo, and the tramp 
 of the heavy boots of my pursuers on the 
 winding stair which I was descending, I 
 
nOB ROY, 131 
 
 plainly foresaw I should be overtaken un- 
 less I could get out into the open air. I 
 tk therefore threw open a casement in the 
 stair- case, which opened into an old-fa- 
 shioned garden ; and, as the height did not 
 exceed six feet, I jumped out without he- 
 sitation, and soon heard, far behind, the 
 '* hey whoop ! stole away ! stole away V of 
 my baffled pursuers. I ran down one alley, 
 walked fast up another ; and then, concei- 
 ving myself out of all danger of pursuit, I 
 slackened my pace into a quiet stroll, en- 
 joying the cool air which the heat of the 
 wine 1 had been obliged to swallow, as well 
 as that of my rapid retreat, rendered doubly 
 grateful. 
 
 As I sauntered on, I found the gardener 
 hard at his evening employment, and sa- 
 luted him, as I paused to look at his work. 
 ** Good even, my friend.'* 
 
 " Gude e'en — gude e'en t' ye,'' answered 
 the man, without looking up, and in a tone 
 which at once indicated his northern ex- 
 traction. 
 
132 ROB ROY. 
 
 <« Fine weather for your work^ my 
 friend." 
 
 *< It's no that muckle to be complained 
 of," answered the man, with that limited 
 degree of praise which gardeners and far- 
 mers usually bestow on the very best wea- 
 ther. Then raising his head, as if to see 
 who spoke to him, he touched his Scotch 
 bonnet w^ith an air of respect, as he ob- 
 served, " Eh ! gude safe us ! — it's a sight 
 for sair een, to see a gold-laced jeistiecor in 
 the Ha' garden sae late at e'en." 
 
 " A gold-laced what, my good friend ?" 
 
 " Ou a jeistiecor^ — that's a jacket like 
 your ain, there. They hae other things to 
 do wi' them up yonder— unbuttoning them 
 to make room for the beef and the bag-pud- 
 dings, and tlie claret-wine, nae doubt — 
 that's the ordinary for evening lecture on 
 this side the Border." 
 
 '* There's no such plenty of good clieer 
 
 * Perhaps from the French justaucorps. 
 
ROB ROY. 133 
 
 in your country, my good friend, as to tempt 
 you to sit so late at it." 
 
 '* Hout, sir, ye ken little about Scotland ; 
 it's no for want of good vivers — the best of 
 fish, flesh, and fool hae we, by sybos, ingans, 
 turneeps, and other garden fruit. But we 
 hae mense and discretion, and are moderate 
 of our mouths ; but here, frae the kitchen 
 to the ha', its fill and fetch mair frae the 
 tae end of the four and twenty till the 
 t'other. Even their fast days — they ca' it 
 fasting when they hae the best o' fish frae 
 Hartlepool and Sunderland by land car- 
 riage, forbye trouts, gilses, salmon, and a' 
 the lave o't, and so they make their very 
 fasting a kind of luxury and abomination ; 
 and then the awfu' masses and matins of the 
 puir deceived souls — but I shouldna speak 
 about them, for your honour will be a Ro- 
 man, I'se warrant, like the lave." 
 
 ** Not I, my friend ; I was bred an Eng- 
 lish presbyterian, or a dissenter." 
 
 '* The right hand of fellowship to your 
 honour, then," quoth the gardener, with as 
 
1^ ROB ROY. 
 
 much alacrity as his hard features were ca- 
 pable of expressing, and, as if to shew that 
 his good will did not rest on words, he 
 plucked forth a huge horn snufF-box, or 
 mull, as he called it, and proffered me a 
 pinch with a most fraternal grin. 
 
 Having accepted his courtesy, I asked 
 him if he had been long a donaestic at Os- , 
 baldistone Hall ? 
 
 ** I have been fchtins: with wild beasts 
 at Ephesus," said he, looking towards the 
 building, " for the best part of these foutt 
 and twenty years, as sure as my name's An- 
 drew Fairservice." 
 
 " But, my excellent friend, Andrew Fair-: 
 service, if your rehgion and your temper- ■ 
 ance are so much offended by Roman ri-'i 
 tuals and southern hospitality, it seems tO; 
 me that you must have been putting your*, 
 self to an unnecessary penance all this 
 while, and that you might have found a 
 service where they eat less, and are more 
 orthodox in their worship. I dare say it 
 cannot be want of skill which prevented 
 
ROB ROY. 135 
 
 your being placed more to your satisfac- 
 tion." 
 
 " It doesna become me to speak to the 
 point of my qualifications," said Andrew, 
 looking round him with great compla- 
 cency ; ** but nae doubt I should under- 
 stand my trade of horticulture, seeing I was 
 bred in the parish of Dreepdaly, where they 
 raise lang-kale under glass, and force the 
 early nettles for their spring kale* — And,, to 
 speak truth, I hae been flitting every term 
 these four and twenty years ; but when the 
 time comes, there's aye something to saw 
 that I would like to see sawn,. — or some- 
 thing to maw that I would like to see 
 mawn, — or something to ripe that I would 
 like to see ripen, — and sae I e'en daiker on 
 wi' the family frae year's end to year's end. 
 And I w^ad say for certain, that I am gaun 
 to quit at Cannlemas, only I was just as 
 positive on it twenty years syne, and I find 
 mysel still turning up the mouls here, for 
 a' that. Forbye that, to tell your honour 
 the even down truth, there's nae better 
 
 a 
 
136 ROB HOY. 
 
 place ever offered to Andrew. But if your 
 honour wad wush me to ony place where I 
 wad hear pure doctrine, and hae a free 
 cow's grass, and a cot, and a yard, and mair 
 than ten punds of annual fee, and where 
 there's nae leddy about the town to count 
 the apples, I'se hold mysel muckle indebt- 
 ed to you.'* 
 
 " Bravo, Andrew ; T perceive you'll lose 
 no preferment for want of asking patron- 
 age." 
 
 " I canna see what for I should ; it's no 
 a generation to wait till ane's worth's disco- 
 vered, I trow." 
 
 ** But you are no friend, I observe, to 
 the ladies.** 
 
 *' Na, by my troth, I keep up the first 
 gardener's quarrel to them. They're fa- 
 sheous bargains — aye crying for apricocks, 
 pears, phuiis, and apples, summer and win- 
 ter, without distinction o' seasons; but we 
 hae nae slices o' the spare rib here, be praised 
 for't ! except auld Martha, and she's weel 
 arleugh pleased wi' the freedom o' the ber- 
 
 6 
 
ROB ROY. 137 
 
 ry-bushes to her sister's weans, when they 
 come to drink tea in a holiday in the house- 
 keeper's room, and wi' a wheen codlings 
 now and then for her ain private sup- 
 per." 
 
 " You forget your young mistress.** 
 " What mistress do I forget ? — whae's 
 that ?" 
 
 " Your young mistress, Miss Vernon.*' 
 " What ! the lassie Vernon — She's nae 
 mistress o' mine, man. I wish she was her 
 ain mistress ; and I wish she mavna be some 
 other body's mistress or its lang — She's a 
 wild slip that." 
 
 '* Indeed!" said I, more interested than 
 1 cared to own to myself, or to show to this 
 fellow — " why, Andrew, you know all the 
 secrets of this family." 
 
 ** If I ken them, I can keep them," said 
 Andrew ; '* they winna work in my wame 
 like barm in a barrel, I'se warrant ye. Miss 
 Die is — but its neither beef nor brose o* 
 mine." 
 
138 ROB ROY. 
 
 And he began to dig with a great sem- 
 blance of assiduity. 
 
 " What is Miss Vernon, Andrew ? I am 
 a friend of the family, and should like to 
 know." 
 
 '* Other than a gude ane, I'm fearing," 
 said Andrew, closing one eye hard, and 
 shaking his head with a grave and myste- 
 rious look — ** something glee'd — ^your ho- 1 
 nour understands me." 
 
 " I cannot say 1 do," said I, " Andrew; 
 but I should like to hear you explain your-^ 
 self;" and therewithal I slipped a crown*' 
 piece into Andrew's horn-hard hand. The- 
 touch of the silver made him grin a ghastly: 
 smile, as he nodded slowly, and thrust it in-; 
 to his breeches pocket; and then, like a 
 man who well understood that there was 
 value to be returned, stood up, and rested' 
 his arms on his spade, with his features 
 composed into the most important gravrty, 
 as for some serious communication. " Ye 
 maun ken, then, young gentleman, since it 
 
ROB ROY. 139 
 
 imports you to know, that Miss Vernon 
 is—'' 
 
 Here breaking off, he sucked in both his 
 cheeks, till his lanthorn jaws and long chin 
 assumed the appearance of a pair of nut- 
 crackers; winked hard once more, frown- 
 ed, shook liis head, and seemed to think hi» 
 physiognomy had completed the informa- 
 tion which his tongue had not fully told. 
 
 " Good God !" said I, " so young, so 
 beautiful, so early lost 1" 
 
 " Troth, ye may say sae — she^s in a man- 
 ner lost, body and saul ; forbye being a 
 papist, I'se uphaud her for" — and his nor- 
 thern caution prevailed, and he was again 
 silent. 
 
 " For what, sir ?" said I, sternly. " I in- 
 sist on knowing the plain meaning of all 
 this." 
 
 " Oli, just for the bitterest Jacobite in the 
 haill shire." 
 
 '' Piiaw ! a Jacobite ?— is tluit all ?" 
 
 Andrew looked at me with some asto- 
 nishment, at hearing his information treat- 
 
140 ROB ROY. 
 
 ed so lightly ; and then muttering, « It's 
 the warst thing I ken aboot the lassie, how- 
 soever," he resumed his spade, like the 
 King of the Vandals^ in Marmontel's late 
 DoveL 
 
ROB ROY. 141 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Bardolph. The sheriff, with a monstrous watch, is at the door. 
 
 Henri/ IV. First Part, 
 
 I FOUND out with some difficulty the 
 apartment which was destined for my ac- 
 commodation ; and, having secured myself 
 the necessary good- will and attention from 
 my uncle's domestics, by using the means 
 they were most capable of comprehending, I 
 secluded myself there for the remainder of 
 the evening, conjecturing, from the fair way 
 in which I had left my new relatives, as well 
 as from the distant noise which continued 
 to echo from the stone-hall, (as their ban- 
 quetting room was called,) that they were 
 not likely to be fitting company for a sober 
 man. 
 
 What could my father mean by sending 
 
1 
 
 14*2 ROB ROY. 
 
 iTie to be an inmate in this strange family ? 
 was my first and most natural reflection. My 
 uncle, it was plain, received me as one who 
 was to make some stay with him, and his 
 rude hospitality rendered him as indifferent 
 as King Hal to the number of those who 
 fed upon his cost. But it was plain my 
 presence or absence would be of as little 
 importance in his eyes as that of one of 
 his blue-coated serving-men. My cousins 
 were mere cubs, in whose company I 
 might, if I liked it, unlearn whatever de- 
 cent manners, or elegant accomplishments 
 I had acquired, but where I could attain 
 no information beyond what regarded 
 worming dogs, rowelling horses, and fol- 
 lowing fo^es. I could only imagine one 
 reason, which was probably the true one. 
 My father considered the life which was led 
 at Osbaldistone Hall as the natural and in- 
 evitable pursuits of all country gentlemen, 
 and he was desirous, by giving me an op- 
 portunity of seeing that with which he knew 
 I would be disgusted, to reconcile me, if 
 
ROB ROY. 143 
 
 possible, to take an active share in his own 
 business. In the meantime, he would take 
 Rashleigh Osbaldistone into the count- 
 ing-house. But he had an hundred modes 
 of providing for him, and that advantage- 
 ously, whenever he chose to get rid of him. 
 So that, although 1 did feel a certain qualm 
 of conscience at having been the means of 
 introducing Rashleigh, being such as he 
 was described by Miss Vernon, into my fa- 
 ther's business — perhaps into his confidence 
 —I subdued it by the reflection, that my 
 father was complete master of his own af- 
 fairs — a man not to be imposed upon, or in- 
 fluenced by any one, and that all I knew 
 to the young gentleman's prejudice was 
 through the medium of a singular and gid- 
 dy girl, whose communications were made 
 with an injudicious frankness, which might 
 warrant me in supposing her conclusionshad 
 been hastily or inaccurately formed. Then 
 my mind naturally turned to Miss Vernon 
 herself; her extreme beauty; her very pe- 
 culiar situation, relying solely upon her re- 
 
144 ROB Roy. 
 
 I 
 
 flections, and her own spirit, for guidance 
 and protection; and her whole charac- 
 ter offering that variety and spirit which 
 piques our curiosity, and engages our at- 
 tention in spite of ourselves. I had sense 
 enough to consider the neighbourhood of 
 this singular young lady, and the chance 
 of our being thrown into very close and • 
 frequent intercourse, as adding to the dan- 
 gers, while it relieved the dulness, of Os- 
 baldistone Hall ; but I could not, with the. 
 fullest exertion of my prudence, prevail] 
 upon myself to regret excessively this new ; 
 and particular hazard to which I was to be 
 exposed. This scruple I also settled as 
 young men settle most difficulties of the; 
 kind — I would be very cautious, always on;! 
 my guard, consider Miss Vernon rather as-; 
 a companion than an intimate, and all 
 would do well enough. With these reflec- 
 tions I fell asleep. Miss Vernon, of course, 
 formingthe last subjectof my contemplation. 
 Whether I dreamed of her or not, I can- 
 not satisfy you, for I was tired and slept 
 
ROB ROY. 145 
 
 soundly* But she was the first person I 
 thought of in the morning, when waked at 
 dawn by the cheerful notes of the hunting- 
 horn. To start up, and direct my horse to 
 be saddled, was my first movement ; and 
 in a few minutes I was in the court yard, 
 where men, dogs, and hordes, were in full 
 preparation. My uncle, who, perhaps, was 
 not entitled to expect a very alert sportsman 
 in his nephew, bred as he was in foreign 
 parts, seemed rather surprised to see me, 
 and I thought his morning salutation want- 
 ed something of the hearty and hospitable 
 tone which distinguished his first welcome. 
 " Art there, lad ? — aye, youth's aye rathe 
 — but look to thysel — mind the old song, 
 lad— 
 
 " He that gallops his horse on Blackstone edge 
 May chance to catch a fall." 
 
 I believe there are few young men, and 
 those very sturdy moralists, who would not 
 rather be taxed with some moral peccadillo 
 
 VOL, I. G 
 
146 ROB ROY. 
 
 than with want of knowledge in liorseman- 
 ship. As I was by no means deficient either 
 in skill or courage, I resented my uncle's 
 insinuation accordingly, and assured him 
 he would find me up with tlie hounds. d 
 
 " I doubt na, lad," was his reply ; '* thou'rt 
 a rank rider, I'se warrant thee — but take 
 heed. Thy father sent thee here to me to 
 be bitted, and 1 doubt I must ride thee on 
 the curb, or we'll hae some one to ride 
 thee on the halter, if I take na the better 
 heed." ; 
 
 As this speech was totally unintelligible ; 
 to me; as, besides, it did not seem to be ^ 
 delivered for my use or benefit, but was 
 spoken as it were aside, and as if expressing 
 aloud something which was passing through 
 the mind of my much honoured uncle, I 
 concluded it must either refer to my deser- 
 tion of the bottle on the preceding even- 
 ing, or that my uncle's morning hours be- 
 ing a little discomposed by the revels of 
 the night before, his temper had suffered in 
 proportion. I only made the passing re- 
 
UOB ROY. 147 
 
 flection, that if lie played the ungracious 
 landlord, I would remain the shorter while 
 his guest, and then hastened to salute Miss 
 Vernon, who advanced cordially to meet 
 me. Some show of greeting also passed 
 between my cousins and me ; but as I 
 saw them mahciously bent upon criticizing 
 my dress and accoutrements, trom the cap 
 to the stnrup-irons, and sneering at what- 
 ever had a new or foreign appearance, I 
 exempted myself from the task of paying 
 them much attention ; and assuming, in re- 
 quital of their grins and whispers, an air of 
 the utmost indifference and contempt, I at- 
 tached myself to Miss Vernon as the only 
 person in the party whom 1 could regard 
 as a suitable companion. By her side, there- 
 fore, we sallied forth to the destined cover, 
 which was a dingle or copse on the side of 
 an extensive common. As we rode thither, 
 I observed to Diana, that I did not see my 
 cousin Rashleigh in the field ; to which she 
 replied, — << O no — he's a mighty hunter. 
 
148 ROB ROY. 
 
 but it's after the fashion of Nimrod, and his 
 game is man." 
 
 The dogs now brushed into the cover, 
 with the appropriate encouragement from 
 the hunters — all was business, bustle, and 
 activity. My cousins were soon too much 
 interested in the business of the morninp: 
 to take any farther notice of me, unless that 
 I overheard Dickon the horse-jockey whis- 
 per to Wilfred the fool — '* Look thou, an 
 our French cousin be nat off a' first burst.** 
 To which Wilfred answered, '* Like 
 enow, for he has a queer outlandish bind- 
 ing on's castor." 
 
 Thornchff, however, who, in his rude 
 way, seemed not absolutely insensible tc 
 the beauty of his kinswoman, appeared de- 
 termined to keep us company more closel}' 
 than his brothers, perhaps to watch what 
 passed betwixt Mis« Vernon and me — per. 
 haps to enjoy my expected mishaps in the 
 chase. In the last particular he was disap- 
 pointed. A lox was found, when, notwith.j 
 
ROB ROY. 149 
 
 standing the ill-omened French binding 
 upon my hat, 1 sustained my character as a 
 horseman to the admiration of my uncle and 
 Miss Vernon, and the secret disappoint- 
 ment of those who expected me to disgrace 
 it. Reynard, however, after a hard burst 
 of several miles, proved too wily for his 
 j pursuers, and the hounds were at fault. I 
 could at this time observe in Miss V^ernon's 
 I manner an impatience of the close attend- 
 ance which we received from Thorncliff 
 i Osbaldistone ; and, as that active spirited 
 I young lady never hesitated at taking the 
 [ readiest means to gratify any wish of the 
 1 moment, she said to him, in a tone of re- 
 [ proach — <* I wonder, Thornie, what keeps 
 ' you dangling at my horse's crupper all this 
 morning, when you know the earths above 
 Woolverton-mill are not stopt" 
 
 " I know no such an thing then, Miss 
 Die, for the miller swore himsel as black as 
 niglit, that he stopt them at twelve o'clock, 
 midnight that was." 
 
 ** O fie upon )ou, Thornie, w^ould you 
 
150 ROB ROY. 
 
 trust to a miller's word ? — and these earths, 
 too, when we lost the fox three times this 
 season, and you on your grey mare that can 
 gallop there and back in ten minutes 1" 
 
 " Well, Miss Die, I'se go to Woolverton 
 then, and if the earths are not stopped, I'se 
 raddle Dick the miller's bones for him." 
 
 ** Do, my dear Thornie ; horsewhip the 
 rascal to purpose — via — fly away, and about 
 it." — ThornclifF went off at the gallop — 
 " or get horsewhipped yourself, which will 
 serve my purpose just as well. — 1 must teach 
 them all discipline and obedience to the 
 word of command. I am raising a regi- 
 ment, you must know. Thornie shall be 
 my serjeant-major, Dickon my riding mas- 
 ter, and Wilfred, v/ith his deep dub-a-dub 
 tones, that speak but three syllables at a 
 time, my kettle-drummer." 
 
 « And Rashleigh ?" 
 
 " Rashleigh shall be my scout-master." 
 
 '* And will you find no employment for 
 me, most lovely colonel ?" 
 
 " You shall have the choice of being pay- 
 
ROB ROY. 151 
 
 master, or pliinder-master, to the corps. 
 But see how the dogs puzzle about there. 
 Come, Mr Frank, the scent's cold ; they 
 wont recover it there this while ; follow 
 me, I have a view to show you." 
 
 And, in fact, she cantered up to the top 
 of a gentle hill, commanding an extensive 
 prospect. Casting her eyes around, to see 
 that no one was near us, she drew up her 
 horse beneath a few birch trees, which 
 screened us from the rest of the huntino; 
 field — ** Do you see yon peaked, brown, 
 heathy hill, having something like a whitish 
 speck upon the side ?' 
 
 " Terminating that long ridge of broken 
 moorish uplands ? — I see it distinctly.'' 
 If' " That whitish speck is a rock called 
 Hawkesmore-crag, and Hawkesmore-crag 
 is in Scotland." 
 
 " Indeed ! I did not think we had been 
 so near Scotland." 
 
 '• it is so, I assure you, and your horse 
 will carry you there in two hours." 
 
152 ROB ROY. 
 
 ^* I shall hardly give Inm the trouble ; 
 why, the distance must be eighteen miles as 
 the crow flies." 
 
 " You may have my mare, if you think 
 her less blown — I say, that in two hours 
 you may be in Scotland." 
 
 " And I say, that I have so little desire 
 to be there, that if my horse's head were 
 over the Border, I would not give his tail . 
 the trouble of following. What should I ■ 
 do in Scotland ?" 
 
 ** Provide for your safety, if I must speak 
 plainly. Do you understand me now, Mr 
 Frank ?" 
 
 ** Not a whit j you are more and more 
 oracular." 
 
 " Then, on my word, you either mis- 1 
 trust me most unjustly, and are a better -; 
 dissembler than Rashleigh Osbaldistone ' 
 himself, or you know nothing of what is 
 imputed to you ; and then no wonder you 
 stare at me in that grave manner, which I 
 ean scarce see without laughing," 
 
KOB 110 V, 153 
 
 «' upon my word of honour, Miss Ver- 
 non," said I, with an impatient feehng of 
 her childish disposition to mirth, " I have 
 not the most distant conception of what 
 you mean. I am happy to afford you any 
 subject of amusement, but I am quite ig- 
 norant in what it consists." 
 
 " Nay, there's no sound jest after all,*" 
 said the young lady, composing herself, 
 ** only one looks so very ridiculous when 
 he is fairly perplexed ; but the matter is 
 serious enough. Do you know one Mo- 
 ray, or Morris, or some such name ?" 
 
 ** Not that I can at present recollect." 
 
 '* Think a moment — Did you not lately 
 travel with somebody of such a name ?" 
 
 " The only man with whom I travel- 
 led for any length of time, was a fellow 
 whose sold seemed to lie in his portman- 
 teau." 
 
 ** Then it was like the soul of the licentiate 
 Pedro Garcias, which lay among the ducats 
 in his leathern purse. Tliat man has been 
 robbed, and he has lodged an information 
 
 G 2 
 
154 ROB ROY. 
 
 against you, as connected with the violence 
 done to him." 
 
 «* You jest, Miss Vernon !" 
 
 ** I do not, I assure you — the thing is 
 an absolute fact." 
 
 " And do you," said I, with strong in- 
 dignation, which 1 did not attempt to sup- 
 press, " do you suppose me capable of me- 
 riting such a charge ?" 
 
 ** You would call me out for it, I suppose, 
 had I the advantage of being a man You 
 may do so as it is, if you like it— I can shoot 
 flying, as well as leap a five-barred gate." 
 
 " And are colonel of a regiment of horse 
 besides," replied I, reflecting how idle it 
 was to be angry with her — " But do explain 
 the present jest to me 1" 
 
 ** There's no jest whatever," said Diana ^ 
 " you are accused of robbing this man, 
 and my uncle believes it as well as I did." 
 
 ^' Upon my honour, I am greatly obhged 
 to my friends for their good opinion." 
 
 *« Now do not, if you can help it, snort, 
 and stare, and snuff the wind, and look so 
 
 J 
 
ROB ROY. 155 
 
 exceedingly like a startled horse— There's 
 no such offence as you suppose — you are 
 not charged with any petty larceny, or vul- 
 gar felony — by no means. This fellow was 
 carrying money from government, botli 
 specie and bills, to pay the troops in the 
 north ; and it is said he has been also 
 robbed of some dispatches of great conse- 
 quence." 
 
 " And so it is high treason, then, and 
 not simple robbery, of which I am accused?" 
 
 *' Certainly ; which, you know, has been 
 in all ages accounted the crime of a gentle- 
 man. You will find plenty in this country, 
 and one not far from your elbow, who think 
 it a merit to distress the Hanoverian go- 
 vernment by every means possible." 
 
 " Neither my politics nor my morals, 
 Miss Vernon, are of a description so accom- 
 modating." 
 
 '* I really begin to believe that you are 
 a presbyterian and Hanoverian in good ear- 
 nest. But what do you propose to do ?" 
 
156 ROB ROY. 
 
 ** Instantly to refute this atrocious ca- 
 lun-ny Beibre whom," I asked, *' was this 
 extraordinary accusation laid ?" 
 
 " Betore old Squire Inglewood, who had 
 sufficient unwillingness to receive it. He 
 sent ridu^gs to my uncle, I suppose, that he 
 might smuggle you away into Scotland, out 
 of reiich of the warrant. But mv uncle is 
 sensible that his religion and old })redilec- 
 tions render him obnoxious to government, 
 and that, were he crtught playing booty, he 
 would be disarmed, and probably dismount- 
 ed, (which would be the worse evil of the 
 two,) as a Jacobite, papist, and suspected 
 person." 
 
 " I can conceive that, sooner than lose 
 his hunters, he would give up his nephew,'* 
 
 ** His nephew, nieces, sons — daughters, 
 if he had them, and whole generation," said 
 Diana ; " therefore trust not to him, even 
 for a single moment, but make the best of 
 your way before they can serve the war* 
 rant." 
 
ROB ROY. 157 
 
 " Tliat I shall certainly do ; but it shall 
 be to the house of this Squire Iriglewood — 
 which way does it lie ?" 
 
 '* About iive miles off, in the low ground, 
 behind yonder plantations — you may see the 
 tower of the clock house." 
 
 '* I will be there in a few minutes," said 
 I, putting my horse in motion. 
 
 <» And I will go with you, and show you 
 the Nvay," said Diana, putting her palfrey 
 also to the trot. 
 
 ** Do not think of it, Miss Vernon ; it is 
 not — permit me the freedom of a friend — 
 it is not proper, scarcely even delicate, in 
 you to go with me upon such an errand as 
 I am now upon." 
 
 ** I understand your meaning," said Miss 
 Vernon, a slight blush crossing her haughty 
 brow ; — *' it is plainly spoken," — and af- 
 ter a moment's pause she added, ** and I 
 believe kindly meant." 
 
 *« it is indeed, Miss Vernon; can you 
 think me insensible of the interest you show 
 
158 ROB RQY. 
 
 me, or ungrateful for it ?" said I, with 
 even more interest than I could have wish- 
 ed to express. " Your's is meant for true 
 kindness, shewn best at the hour of need. 
 But I must not, for your own sake — for 
 the chance of misconstruction — suffer you 
 to pursue the dictates of your generosity ; 
 this is so public an occasion — it is almost 
 like venturing into an open court of jus- 
 tice." 
 
 " And if it w^ere not almost, but altoge- 
 ther entering into an open court of justice, 
 do you think I would not go there if I 
 thought it right, and wished to protect a 
 friend ? You have no one to stand by you 
 —you are a stranger ; and here, in the 
 outskirts of the kingdom, country justices 
 do odd things. My uncle has no desire 
 to embroil himself in your affair ; — Rash- 
 leigh is absent, and were he here, there is 
 no knowing which side he might take ; the 
 rest are all more stupid and brutal one than 
 another. 1 will go with vou, and 1 do not 
 
ROB ROY. 159 
 
 fear be.Ing able to nerve you. I am no fine 
 lady, to be terrified to death with law books, 
 liard word?, or big wigs." 
 
 *< But, tny dear Miss Vernon — " 
 ** But, my dear Mr Francis, he patient 
 and quiet, and let me take my own wav ; 
 for when i take the bit between my teeth, 
 there is no bridle" will stojj me." 
 
 Flattered w^th the interest so lovely a 
 creature seemed to take in mv fate, vet 
 vexed at the ridiculous appearance I siiould 
 make, bv carr\ in^ a crirl of ei^iiteen dlons 
 with me as an advocate, and seriouslv con- 
 cerned for the misconstruction to which 
 her motives might be exposed, I endeavour- 
 ed to combat her resolution to accompany 
 me to Squire Inglewood's. The self wili'd 
 girl told me roundly, that my dissuasions 
 were absolutely in vain ; that she was a 
 true Vernon, whom no consideration, not 
 even that of being able to -lo but little to 
 assist him, should induce to abiUilon a 
 friend in distress ; and that all I could say 
 on the subject might be very well for pret- 
 
 1 
 
160 ROB ROY. 
 
 ty^ well-educaterl, well-behaved misses from 
 a town boarding-school, but did not apply 
 to her, who was accustomed to mind no- 
 body's opinion but her own. 
 
 While she spoke thus, we were advan- 
 cing hastily towards I nglewood- Place, while, 
 as if to divert me from the task of farther 
 remonstrance, she drew a ludicrous picture 
 of the magistrate and his clerk. Inglewood 
 was, according to lier description, a white- 
 washed Jacobite, that is, one who, having 
 been long a n on -juror, like most of the 
 other gentlemen of the country, had lately 
 qualified himself to act as a justice, by taking 
 the oaths to government, '* He had done 
 so," she said, " in compliance with the ur- 
 gent request of most of his brother squires, 
 who saw, with regret, that the palladiuQi of 
 s}'lvan sport, the game-laws, were likely to 
 fall into disuse for want of a magistrate 
 who would enforce them ; the nearest act- 
 ing justice being the Mayor of NewTastle, 
 and he, as being rather inclined to the con- 
 sumption of the game -hen properly dress- 
 
 9 
 
HOB HOY. 161 
 
 ed, than to its preservation when alive, was 
 more partial, of course, to the cause of the ^ 
 poacher than of the sportsman. Resolving, 
 therefore, that it was expedient some one of 
 their number should sacrifice the scruples of 
 jacobitical loyalty to the good of the com- 
 munity, the Northumbrian country gen- 
 tlemen imposed the duty on Inglewood, 
 who, being very inert in most of his feelings 
 and sentiments, might, they thought, com- 
 ply with any political creed without much re- 
 pugnance. Having thus procured the body 
 of justice, they proceeded," continued Miss 
 Vernon, " to attach to it a clerk, by way 
 of soul, to direct and animate its move- 
 ments. Accordingly, they got a sharp 
 Newcastle attorney, called Jobson, who, to 
 vary my metaphor, finds it a good thing 
 enough to retail justice at the sign of Squire 
 Inglewood, and, as his own emoluments 
 depend on the quantity of business which 
 he transacts, he hooks in his principal for 
 a great deal more employment in the jus- 
 tice line than the honest squire had ever 
 
162 noB ROY. 
 
 bargained for ; so that no apple-wife with- 
 in the circuit of ten miles can settle her 
 arccount with a coster-mon^er without an 
 audience of the reluctant Justice and his 
 alert clerk, Mr Joseph Jobson. But the 
 most ridiculous scenes occur when affairs 
 come before him, like our business of to- 
 day, having any colouring of politics. Mr 
 Joseph Jobson (for whicli, no doubt, he has 
 his own very sufficient reasons,) is a prodi- , 
 gious zealot for the protestant religion, and 
 a great friend to the present establishment ' 
 in church and state. Now, his principal, 
 retaining a sort of instinctive attachment 
 to the opinions which he professed openly, 
 until he relaxed his political creed, with 1 
 the patriotic view of enforcing the law • 
 against unauthorized destroyers of black- ' 
 game, grouse, partridges, and hares, is pe- 
 culiarly embarrassed when the zeal of his 
 assistant involves him in judicial proceed- 
 ings connected with his earlier faith , and, 
 instead of seconding his zeal, he seldom 
 fails to oppose to it a double dose of indo- 
 
HOB ROY. 163 
 
 lence and lack of exertion. And this in- 
 activity does not by any means arise from 
 actual stupidity. On the contrary, for one 
 whose principal delight is in eating and drink- 
 ing, he is an alert, joyous, and lively old 
 soul, which makes his assumed dulness the 
 more diverting. So you may see Jobson on 
 such occasions, like a bit of a broken-rlown 
 blood tit condemned to drag an overloaded 
 cart, puffing, strutting, and spluttering, to 
 get the justice put in motion, while, though 
 the wheels groan, creak, and revolve slowly, 
 tlie great and preponderating weight of 
 the vehicle fairly frustrates the efforts of 
 the wiUing quadruped, and prevents its 
 being brought into a state of actual pro- 
 gression. Nay more, the unfortunate po- 
 ney, I understand, has been heard to com- 
 plain, that this same car of justice, which 
 he finds it so hard to put in motion on some 
 occasions, can on others run fast enough 
 down hill of its own accord, dragging his 
 reluctant self back vards along with it, when 
 any thing can be done of service to vSquire 
 
164 ROB ROY. 
 
 Ins^Iewood's quondam friends. And then 
 Mr Jobson talks big about reporting his 
 prircipal to the Secretary of State for the 
 Home Department, if it were not for his 
 particular regard and friendship for Mr 
 Inglewood and his family." 
 
 As Miss Vernon concluded this whimsi- 
 cal description, we found ourselves in front 
 of I rigle wood- Place, a handsome, though 
 old-fashioned building, which shewed the 
 consequence of the family. 
 
ROB ROY. 165 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Sir," quoth the Lawyer, " not to flatter yc. 
 You have as good and fair a hatter}^ 
 As heart could wish, and need not shame 
 P The proudest man alive to claim." 
 
 Butler. 
 
 Our horses were taken by a servant in 
 Sir Hildebrand's livery, whom we found in 
 the court-yard, and we entered the house. 
 In the entrance hall I was somewhat sur- 
 prised, and my fair companion still more so, 
 when we met Rashleigh 04)aldistone, who 
 could not help shewing equal wonder at our 
 rencontre. 
 
 ■ " Rashleigh," said Miss Vernon, without 
 giving him time to ask any question, " you 
 have heard of Mr Francis Osbaldistone's 
 affair, and you have been talking to the 
 justice about it ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Rashleigh composedly. 
 
166 ROB ROY. 
 
 ** it has been my business here. T have 
 been endeavouring," he said, with a bow to 
 me, ** to render my cousin what service I 
 can. But 1 am sorry to meet him here." 1 
 
 " As a friend and relation, Mr Os'ualdis- 1 
 tone, you ought to have been sorry to have 
 met me any where else, at a time when the 
 charge ot my reputation required me to be 
 on this spot as soon as possible." 
 
 " True ; but, judging from what my fa- 
 ther said, 1 should have supposed a short 
 retreat into Scotland— just till matters , ,' 
 should be smoothed over in a quiet way — " 
 
 1 answered with warmth, " That i had 
 no prudential measures to observe, and de- 
 sired to have nothing sir.oothed over ; on 
 the contrary, I was come to enquire into a 
 rascally calumny, which I was determined 
 to probe to the bottom." 
 
 " Mr Francis Osbaldistone is an innocent 
 man, llashleigh, and he demands an inves- 
 tigation of the charge against him, and I 
 intend to support him in it." 
 
 " You do, my pretty cousin ? — I should 
 
IlOB ROY. 167 
 
 think, now, Mr Francis Osbaldistone was 
 ]ik{ \y to be as ellcctually, and rather more 
 delicately, supported by my presence than 
 by yours." 
 
 •' O certainly ; but two heads are better 
 than one, you know." 
 
 " Especially such a head as yours, my 
 pretty Die," advancing, and taking her 
 hand wirh a familiar fondness, which made 
 me think him fifty times uglier than nature 
 had made him. She led him, however, a 
 few steps aside ; they conversed in an un- 
 der voice, and she appeared to insist upon 
 some request which he was unwilling, or 
 miable to comply with. I never saw so 
 strong a contrast betwixt the expression of 
 two faces. Miss Vernon's from being ear- 
 nest became angry. Her eyes and cheeks 
 became more animated, her colour mount- 
 ed, she clenched her little hand, and, stamp- 
 ing on the ground with her foot, seemed to 
 listen with a mixture of contempt and in- 
 dignation to the apologies, which, from his 
 look of civil deference, his composed and 
 
168 ROB Ror. 
 
 respectful smile, his body rather drawing 
 back than advanced, and other signs oflook 
 and person, I concluded him to be pouring 
 out at her feet. At length she flung away 
 from him, with " 1 will have it so." 
 
 " It is not in my power — there is no pos- 
 sibility of it. —Would you think it, Mr Os- 
 baldistone ?" said he, addressing me 
 
 *' You are not mad ?" said she, interrupt- 
 ing him. ~ fl 
 
 " Would you think it ?" said he, with- 
 out attending to her hint — " Miss Vernon 
 insists, not only that I know your inno- 
 cence, (of which, indeed, it is impossible 
 for any one to be more convinced) but that 
 I must also be acquainted with the real 
 perpetrators of the outrage on this fellow 
 — if, indeed, such an outrage has been com- 
 mitted. Is this reasonable, Mr Osbaldis- 
 tone ?" 
 
 ** I will not allow any appeal to Mr Os- 
 baldistone, Rashleigh," said the young lady; 
 " he does not know, as I do, the incredible 
 extent and accuracy of your information on 
 all points." 
 
HOB ROY. 169 
 
 «* As I am a gentleman, you Jo me more 
 honour than I deserve." 
 
 " Justice, Rashleigh — only justice — and 
 it is only justice which I expect at your 
 hands." 
 
 '* You are a tyrant, Diana," he answer- 
 ed, with a sort of sigh — ^' a capricious ty- 
 rant, and rule your friends with a rod of 
 iron. Still, however, it shall be as you de- 
 sire. But you ought not to be here — you 
 know you ought not — you must return with 
 me." 
 
 Then turning from Diana, who seemed 
 to stand undecided, he came up to me in 
 the most friendly manner, and said, " Do 
 not doubt my interest in what regards you, 
 Mr Osbaldistone. If I leave you just at 
 this moment, it is only to act for your ad- 
 vantage. But you must use your influence 
 with your cousin to return ; her presence 
 cannot serve you, and must prejudice her- 
 self." 
 
 " I assure you, sir," I replied, ** you 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
170 ROB ROY. 
 
 cannot be more convinced of this than 
 I ; I have urged Miss Vernon's return 
 as anxiously as she would permit me to 
 do." 
 
 " I have thought on it," said Miss Ver- 
 non, after a pause, " and I will not go till 
 I see you safe out of the hands of the Phi- 
 listines. Cousin Rashleigh, I dare say, 
 means well ; but he and I know each other 
 well. — Rashleigh, I will not go ; — I know," ; 
 she added in a more soothing tone, " my ' 
 being here will give you more motive for 
 speed and exertion." 
 
 " Stay, then, rash, obstinate girl," said ; 
 Rashleigh ; " you know but too well to ; 
 whom you trust ;" and hastening out of i 
 the hall, we heard his horse's feet a minute ; 
 afterwards in rapid motion. ': 
 
 ** Thank Heaven, he is gone !" said 
 Diana. " And now, let us seek out the 
 justice." 
 
 " Had we not better call a servant ?** 
 
 *' O, by no means j I know the way to 
 
HOB ROY. 171 
 
 his den — we must burst on him suddenly — 
 follow me." 
 
 I did follow her accordingly, as she trip- 
 ped up a few gloomy steps, traversed a twi- 
 light passage, and entered a sort of anti- 
 room, hung round with old maps, architec- 
 tural elevations, and genealogical trees. A 
 pair of folding doors opened from this in- 
 to Mr Inglewood's sitting apartment, from 
 which was heard the fag-end of an old ditty, 
 chaunted by a voice which had been in its 
 day fit for a jolly bottle song. 
 
 " O, in Skipton-in-Craven^ 
 Is never a haven, 
 
 But many a day foul weather ; 
 And he that would say 
 A pretty girl nay, 
 I wish for his cravat a tether." — 
 
 <' Hey day !" said Miss Vernon, " the ge- 
 nial justice must have dined already, — I did 
 not think it had been so late." 
 
 It was even so. Mr Inglewood's appe- 
 tite having been sharpened by his official 
 
172 ROB ROY. 
 
 investigations, he had ante-dated his meri- 
 dian repast, having dined at twelve instead 
 of one o'clock, then the general dining-hour 
 in England. The various occurrences of 
 the morning occasioned our arriving some 
 time after this hour, to the justice the most 
 important of the four-and-tvventy, and he 
 had not neglected the interval. " Stay you 
 here," said Diana; '* I know the house, and 
 I will call a servant ; your sudden appear- 
 ance might startle the old gentleman even 
 to choking;" and she escaped from me, 
 leaving me uncertain whether I ought to 
 advance or retreat. It was impossible for 
 me not to hear some part of what past with- 
 in the dinner apartment, and particularly se- 
 veral apologies for declining to sing, ex 
 pressed in a dejected croaking voice, the 
 tones of which I conceived were not entirely 
 new to me. " Not sing, sir? by our lady! 
 but you must — What! you have cracked 
 my silver- mounted cocoa-nut of sack, and 
 tell me that you cannot sing ! — Sir, sack will 
 make a cat speak and sing too; so up with 
 
ROB ROY. 173 
 
 A meiry stave, or trundle yourself out of my 
 doors — Do you think you are to take up all 
 my valuable time with your d — d declara^ 
 tions, and then tell me you cannot sing ?*' 
 " Your worship is perfectly in rule," said 
 another voice, which, from its pert conceit- 
 ed accent, might be that of the clerk, " and 
 the party must be conformable ; he hath 
 canet written on his face in court hand." 
 
 " Up with it, then," said the justice, ** or, 
 by St Christopher, you shall crack the co- 
 coa-nut full of salt and water, according to 
 the statute for such effect made and pro- 
 vided." 
 
 Thus exhorted and threatened, my quon- 
 dam fellow traveller, for 1 could no longer 
 doubt that he was the recusant in question, 
 uplifted, with a voice similar to that of a 
 criminal singing his last psalm on the scaf- 
 fold, a most doleful stave to the following 
 effect : 
 
 ** Good people all, I pray give ear, 
 A woful story you shall hear, 
 
174 ROB ROY. 
 
 *Tis of a robber as stout as ever 
 Bade a true man stand and deliver. 
 
 With his foodie doo fa loodle IO0. 
 
 *' This knave, most worthy of a cord, 
 Being arni'd with pistol and with sword, 
 'Iwixt Kensington and Brentford then 
 Did boldly stop six honest men. 
 
 With his foodie doo, &c. 
 
 *^ These honest men did at Brentford dine, 
 Having drank each man his pint of wine, 
 Wh^n this bold thief, with many curses, 
 Did say. You dogs, your lives or purses. 
 With his foodie doo," &c. 
 
 I question if the honest men, whose mis- 
 fortune is commemorated in this pathetic 
 ditty, were more startled at the appearance 
 of the bold thief, than the songster was at 
 mine ; for, tired of waiting for some one to 
 announce me, and finding my situation as 
 a listener rather awkward, 1 presented my- 
 self to the company just as my friend Mr 
 Morris, for such, it seems, was his name, 
 >\'as uplifting the fifth stave of his doleful 
 
ROB ROY. 175 
 
 ballad. The liigh note, with which the tune 
 started, died away in a quaver of consterna- 
 tion upon finding himself so near one whose 
 character he supposed to be little less sus- 
 picious than that of the hero of his madri- 
 gal, and he remained silent, with a mouth 
 gaping as if i had brought the Gorgon's head 
 in my hand. 
 
 The justice, whose eyes had closed under 
 the influence of the somniferous lullaby of 
 the song, started up in his chair as i": sud- 
 denly ceased, and stared with wonder at 
 the unexpected addition wliich the com- 
 pany had received, while his organs of sight 
 were in abeyance. The clerk, as I conjec- 
 tured him to be from his appearance, was 
 also com moved, for, sitting opposite to Mr 
 Morris, that honest gentleman's terror com- 
 municated itself to him, though he wotted 
 not why. 
 
 I broke the silence of surprise occasioned 
 by my abrupt entrance. " My name, Mr 
 Inglewood, is Francis Osbaldistone ; 1 un- 
 derstand that some scoundrel has brought 
 
 / 
 
176 ROB ROY. 
 
 a complaint before you, charging me with 
 being concerned in a loss which he says he 
 has sustained." 
 
 " Sir," said the justice, somewhat pee- 
 vishly, " these are matters I never enter 
 upon after dinner — there is a time for every 
 thing, and a justice of peace must eat as 
 well as other folks." 
 
 The goodly person of Mr Inglewood, 
 by the way, seemed by no means to have 
 suffered by any fasts, whether in the ser- 
 vice of the law or of religion. 
 
 " I beg pardon for an ill-timed visit, sir ; 
 but as my reputation is concerned, and as 
 the dinner appears to be concluded — " 
 
 " It is not concluded, sir," replied the 
 magistrate ; " man requires digestion as 
 well as food, and I protest I cannot have 
 benefit from my victuals, unless I am al- 
 lowed two hours of quiet leisure, intermix- 
 ed with harmless mirth, and a moderate cir- 
 culation of the bottle." 
 
 " If your honour will forgive me," said 
 Mr Jobson, who had produced and arran- 
 
ROB ROY. 177 
 
 ged his Writing implements in the brief 
 space that our conversation afibrded ; " as 
 this is a case of felony, and the gentleman 
 seems something impatient, the charge is 
 contra pacem dom'wi regis' — 
 
 " D — n dominie i^egis /" said the impa- 
 tient justice — " I hope it's no treason to 
 say so ; — but it's enough to make one mad 
 to be worried in this way — have I a mo- 
 ment of my life quiet, for warrants, orders, 
 directions, acts, bails, bonds, and recogni- 
 sances ? — I pronounce to you, Mr Jobson, 
 that I shall send you and the justice- ship 
 to the devil one of these days." 
 
 " Your honour will consider the dignity 
 of the office — one of the quorum and cus- 
 tos rotulorum, an office of which Sir Ed- 
 ward Coke wisely saith. The whole chris- 
 tian world hath not the like of it, so it be 
 duly executed." 
 \ " Well," said the justice, partly reconci- 
 led by this eulogium on the dignity of his 
 situation, and gulping down the rest of his 
 
 2 H 
 
178 ROB ROY. 
 
 dissatisfaction in a huge bumper of claret, 
 *« let us to this gear then, and get rid of it 
 as fast as we can. — Here you, sir — you, 
 Morris— you, knight of the sorrowful coun- 
 tenance — is this Mr Francis Osbaldistone 
 the gentleman whom you charge with being 
 art and part of felony ?" 
 
 " I, sir ?" replied Morris, whose scatter- 
 ed wits had hardly yet re-assembled them- 
 selves — " I charge nothing — I say nothing 
 against the gentleman." 
 
 " Then we dismiss your complaint, sir, 
 that's all, and a good riddance — Push about 
 the bottle — Mr Osbaldistone, help yourself." 
 
 Jobson, however, was determined that 
 Morris should not back out of the scrape so 
 easily. " What do you mean, Mr Morris ? 
 — Here is your own declaration — the ink 
 scarce dried — and you would retract it in 
 this scandalous manner !" 
 
 " How do I know," whispered the other, 
 in a tremulous tone, " how many rogues 
 are in the house to back him— I have read 
 
ROB ROY. 179 
 
 of such thino^s in Johnson's Lives of the 
 Highwaymen. — I protest the door opens" — 
 
 And it did open, and Diana Vernon en- 
 tered — " You keep fine order here, justice 
 — not a servant to be seen or heard of." 
 
 " Ah !" said the justice, starting up with, 
 an alacrity which shewed that he was not 
 so engrossed by his devotions to Themis, or 
 Comus, to forget what was due to beauty 
 — " Ah, ha ! Die Vernon, the heath-bell of 
 Cheviot, and the blossom of the Border, 
 come to see how the old bachelor keeps 
 house — Art welcome, girl, as flowers in 
 May." 
 
 " A fine open, hospitable house you do 
 keep, justice, that must be allowed — not a 
 soul to answer a visitor." 
 
 " Ah ! the knaves, they reckoned them- 
 selves secure of me for a couple of hours — 
 But why did you not come earlier ? — Your 
 cousin Rashleigh dined here, and ran away 
 like a poltroon after the first bottle was out 
 — But you have not dined — v/e'll have some- 
 
 A . 
 
180 ROB ROY. 
 
 thing nice and lady-like — sweet and pretty, 
 like yourself, tossed up in a trice." 
 
 " I can't stay, justice — I came with my 
 cousin, Frank Osbaldistone, there, and I 
 must shew him the way back again to the 
 Hall, or he'll lose himself in the wolds." 
 
 " Whew ! sits the wind in that quarter ?'- 
 answered the justice, 
 
 '* She showed him the way, and she shelved him 
 the way, 
 She showed him the way to woo.** 
 
 " What ! no luck for old fellows, then, my 
 sweet bud of the wilderness ?" 
 
 " None whatever, Squire Inglewood ; 
 but if you will be a good kind justice, and 
 dispatch young Frank's business, and let us 
 canter home again, I'll bring my uncle to 
 dine with you next week, and we'll expect 
 merry doings." 
 
 " And you shall find them, my pearl of 
 the Tyne — Zookers, lass, I never envy these 
 
ROB ROY. 181 
 
 young fellows their rides and scampers, un- 
 less when you come across mc. But I must 
 not keep you just now, I suppose? — I am 
 quite satisfied with Mr Francis Osbaldis- 
 tone's explanation — here has been some 
 mistake, which can be cleared at greater 
 leisure." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," said I, "but I have 
 not heard the nature of the accusation yet.'* 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the clerk, who, at the ap- 
 pearance of Miss Vernon, had given up the 
 matter in despair, but who picked up cou- 
 rage to press farther investigation, on find- 
 ing himself supported from a quarter whence 
 assuredly he expected no backing — " Yes, 
 sir, and Dalton saith. That he who is appre- 
 hended as a felon shall not be discharged 
 upon any man's discretion, but shall be held 
 either to bail or commitment, paying to the 
 clerk of the peace the usual fees for recog- 
 nisance or commitment." 
 
 The justice, thus goaded on, gave me at 
 length a few words of explanation. 
 
 It seems the tricks which I had played to 
 
 y . 
 
182 ROB ROY. 
 
 this man, Morris, had made a strong impres- 
 sion on his imagination ; for I found they 
 had been arrayed against me in his evidence, 
 with all the exaggeration which a timorous 
 and heated imagination could suggest. It 
 appeared also, that, on the day he parted 
 from me, he had been stopped on a solitary 
 spot, and eased of his beloved travelling- 
 companion, the portmanteau, by two men, 
 well mounted and armed, having their faces 
 covered with vizards. 
 
 One of them, he conceived, had much 
 of my shape and air, and in a whisper- 
 ing conversation which took place be- 
 twixt the free-booters, he heard the other 
 apply to him the name of Osbaldistone. 
 The declaration farther set forth, that, up- 
 on enquiring into the principles of the fa- 
 mily so named, he, the said declarant, was 
 informed, that they were of the worst de- 
 scription, the family, in all its members, 
 having been papists and Jacobites, as he was 
 given to understand by the dissenting cler- 
 gyman at whose house he stopped after his 
 
R0i3 ROY, 183 
 
 reneontre, since the days of William the 
 Conqueror. 
 
 Upon all, and each of these weighty rea- 
 sons, he charged me with being accessory to 
 the felony committed upon his person ; he, 
 the said declarant, then travelling in the 
 special employment of government, and 
 having charge of certain important papers, 
 and also a large sum in specie, to be paid 
 over, according to his instructions, to cer- 
 tain persons of official trust and dignity in 
 Scotland. 
 
 Having heard this extraordinary accusa- 
 tion, I replied to it, that the circumstances 
 on which it was founded were such as could 
 warrant no justice, or magistrate, in any at- 
 tempt on my personal liberty. I admitted 
 that I had practised a little upon the terrors 
 of Mr Morris, while we travelled together, 
 but in such trifling particulars as could 
 have excited apprehension in no one who 
 was one whit less timorous and jealous than 
 himself. But I added, that I had never 
 seen him since we parted, and if that which 
 
 / 
 
184} ROB ROY. 
 
 he feared had really come upon him, I was 
 in no ways accessory to an action so unwor- 
 thy of my character and station in lifie. That 
 one of the robbers was called Osbaldistone, 
 or that such a name was mentioned in the 
 course of the conversation betwixt them, 
 was a trifling circumstance, to which no 
 weight was due. And concerning the dis- 
 affection alledged against me, I was willing 
 to prove, to the satisfaction of the justice, 
 the clerk, and even the witness himself, that 
 I was of the same persuasion as his friend 
 the dissenting clergyman ; had been educa- 
 ted as a good subject upon the principles 
 of the Revolution, and as such now de- 
 manded the personal protection of the laws 
 which had been assured by that great event. 
 The justice fidgetted, took snuff, and 
 seemed considerably embarrassed, while Mr 
 Attorney Jobson, with all the volubility of 
 his profession, ran over the statute of the 
 34. Edward III., by w^hich justices of the 
 peace are allowed to arrest all those whom 
 they find by indictment or suspicion, and to 
 
 6 
 
ROB Roy. 185 
 
 put them into prison. The rogue even 
 turned my own admissions against me, al- 
 leging, '* that since I had confessedly, upon 
 my own shewing, assumed the bearing or 
 deportment of a robber or malefactor, 1 had 
 voluntarily subjected myself to the suspi- 
 cions of which I complained, and brought 
 myself within the compass of the act, having 
 wilfully clothed my conduct with all the 
 colour and livery of guilt.." 
 
 I combatted both his arguments and his 
 jargon with much indignation and scorn, 
 and observed, " that 1 should, if necessary, 
 produce the bail of my relations, which I 
 conceived could not be refused, without 
 subjecting the magistrate in a misdemea 
 nour." 
 
 " Pardon me, my good sir, — pardon me," 
 said the insatiable clerk, " this is a case ia 
 which neither bail nor mainprize can be 
 received, the felon who is liable to be com- 
 mitted on heavy grounds of suspicion, not 
 being replevisable under the statute of the 
 Sd of King Edward, there being in that 
 
186 ^ ROB ROY. 
 
 act an express exception of such as be 
 charged of commandment, or force, and 
 aid of felony done ;" and he hinted, that 
 his worship would do well to remember ? 
 that such were no way replevisable by 
 common writ, nor without writ. 
 
 At this period of the conversation a ser- 
 vant entered, and delivered a letter to Mr 
 Jobson. He had no sooner run it hastily 
 over, than he exclaimed, with the air of 
 one who wished to appear much vexed at 
 the interruption, and felt the consequence 
 attached to a man of multifarious avoca- 
 tions — *' Good God ! — why, at this rate I 
 shall have neither time to attend to thej 
 public concerns nor my own — no rest— i 
 no quiet — I wish to Heaven another gen-) 
 tleman in our line would settle here !" i 
 
 '* God forbid !" said the justice, in a tone 
 of sottO'Voce deprecation ; " some of us 
 have enough of one of the tribe." 
 
 " This is a matter of life and death, if 
 your worship pleases." 
 
ROB ROY, 187 
 
 •' In God's name ! no more justice busi- 
 ness, 1 hope," said the alarmed magistrate. 
 
 " No — no," replied Mr Jobson, very 
 consequentially ; " old Gaffer Rutledge of 
 Grime's-hill, is subpoena'd for the next 
 world ; he has sent an express for Dr Kill- 
 down to put in bail— another for me to ar- 
 range his worldly affairs." 
 
 " Aw^ay with you, then," said Mr Ingle- 
 wood hastily ; " his may not be a replevisa- 
 ble case under the statute, you know, or 
 Mr Justice Death may not like the doctor 
 for a main pernor ^ or bailsman.'* 
 
 " And yet," said Jobson, lingering as he 
 moved towards the door, " if my presence 
 here be necessary — I could make out the 
 warrant for committal in a moment, and the 
 constable is below^ — And you have heard,'' 
 lie said, lowering his voice, '' Mr Rash- 
 ieigh's opinion" — the rest was lost in whis- 
 ker. 
 
 The justice replied aloud, " I tell thee 
 10, man, no — we'll do nought till thou re- 
 
188 ROB ROY. 
 
 turn, man, 'tis but a four-mile ride — Come^ 
 push bottle, Mr Morris — Don't be cast 
 down, Mr Osbaldistone — And you, my rose 
 of the wilderness — one cup of claret to re- 
 fresh the bloom of your cheeks." ^ 
 
 Diana started, as if from a reverie, in 
 which she appeared to have been plunged 
 while we held this discussion. " No, jus- 
 tice, I should be afraid of transferring the 
 bloom to a part of my face where it would 
 show to little advantage. But I will pledge 
 you in a cooler beverage ;" and, filling a 
 glass with w^ater, she drank it hastily, while 
 her hurried manner belied her assumed gai- 
 ety. 
 
 I had not much leisure to make remarks 
 upon her demeanor, how^ever, being full 
 of vexation at the interference of fresh ob- 
 stacles to an instant examination of the 
 disgraceful and impertinent charge which 
 was brought against me. But there was no 
 moving the justice to take the matter up in 
 absence of his clerk, an incident which 
 
ROB ROY. 189 
 
 jrave him apparently as much pleasure as a 
 hohday to a schoolboy. He persisted in 
 his endeavours to inspire jollity into a com- 
 pany, the individuals of which, whether con- 
 sidered with reference to each other, or to 
 their respective situations, were by no means 
 incHned to mirth. " Come, Master Mor- 
 ris, you're not the first man that's been rob- 
 bed, I trow — grieving ne'er brought back 
 loss, man. — And you, Mr Frank Osbaldis 
 tone, are not the first bully-boy that has said 
 stand to a true man. There was Jack Win- 
 lerfield, in my young days, kept the best 
 i:ompany in the land — at horse-races and 
 i:ock-fights who but he — hand and glove 
 ivas I with Jack. — Push bottle, Mr Morris, 
 f t's dry talking — Many quart bumpers have 
 [[ cracked, and thrown many a merry main 
 : vith poor Jack — good family — ready wit — 
 [uick eye — as honest a fellow^, barring the 
 Iced he died for — we'll drink to his memory, 
 , ;entlemen — Poor Jack Winterfield — And 
 ince we talk of liim, and of these sort of 
 
190 ROB ROY* 
 
 things, and since that d — d clerk of mint 
 has taken his gibberish elsewhere, anc 
 since we're snug among ourselves, Mr Os 
 baldistone, if you will have my best advice 
 I would take up this matter — the law's han 
 —very severe — hanged poor Jack Winter- 
 field at York, despite family connection 
 and great interest — all for easing a fat wes 
 country grazier of the price of a few beast 
 —Now, here is honest Mr Morris has beei 
 frightened, and so forth— D — n it, man, le 
 the poor fellow have back his portmanteau 
 and end the frohc at once." 
 
 Morris's eyes brightened up at this sug 
 gestion, and he began to hesitate forth ai 
 assurance that he thirsted for no man's blood 
 when I cut the proposed accommodatioi 
 short, by resenting the justice's suggestioi 
 as an insult, that went directly to suppose mi 
 guilty of the very crime, which I had com< 
 to his house with the express intention o 
 disavowing. We were in this awkward pre 
 dicament, when a servant, opening the door 
 
 11 
 
ROB ROY. 
 
 191 
 
 announced a " strange gentkman to wait 
 upon his honour;" and the party whom he 
 thus described entered the room without 
 further ceremony. 
 
192 ROB ROY. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 One of the thieves come back again ! I'll stand close. 
 He dares not wrong me now, so near the house, 
 And call in vain 'tis, till I see him offer it. 
 
 The Widow. 
 
 " A stranger!" echoed the justice, — . 
 ** not upon business, I trust, for I'll be" 
 
 His protestation was cut short by the an- 
 swer of the man himself. " My business, 
 is of a nature somewhat onerous and parti-i 
 cular," said my acquaintance Mr Campbell,; 
 — for it was he, the very Scotchman whom; 
 I had seen at Northallerton, — " and I must 
 solicit your honour to give instant and heed- 
 ful consideration to it. — I believe, Mr Mor- 
 ris," he added, fixing his eye on that person 
 with a look of peculiar firmness and almost 
 
 I 
 
ROB ROY. 193 
 
 ferocity — ^' I believe ye ken brawly what 
 I am — I believe ye cannot have forgotten 
 what passed at our last meeting on the road." 
 Morris's jaw dropped — his countenance be- 
 came the colour of tallow — his teeth chat- 
 tered, and he gave visible signs of the ut- 
 most consternation. " Take heart of grace, 
 man," said Campbell, " and dinna sit clat- 
 tering your jaws there like a pair of casta- 
 nets. I think there can be nae difficulty in 
 your telling Mr Justice, that ye have seen 
 me of yore, and ken me to be a cavalier of 
 fortune, and a man of honour. — Ye ken fu' 
 weel ye wull be some time resident in my 
 vicinity, when I may have the power, as I will 
 possess the inclination, to do ye as good a 
 turn." 
 
 '< Sir — sir — I believe you to be a man of 
 honour, and, as you say, a man of fortune. — 
 Yes, Mr Inglewood," he added, clearing his 
 voice, '* I really believe this gentleman to 
 be so." 
 
 " And what's this gentleman's commands 
 with me ?" said the justice, somewhat pee- 
 
 VOL. I* I 
 
19 i ROB ROY. 
 
 vishly. *' One man introduces another, like 
 the rhymes in the ' house that Jack built,* 
 and 1 get company without either peace or 
 conversation !" 
 
 " Both shall be yours, sir," answered 
 Campbell, " in a brief period of time. I 
 come to release your mind from a piece of 
 troublesome duty, not to make increment 
 to it." 
 
 " Body o' me ! then you are welcome as 
 ever Scot was to England ; but get on, 
 man, let's hear what you have got to say at 
 once." 
 
 " I presume this gentleman," continued 
 the North Briton, *' told you there was a 
 person of the name of Campbell with him, 
 when he had the mischance to lose his va- 
 lise ?" 
 
 " He has not mentioned such a namCj 
 from beginning to end of the matter," said 
 the justice. 
 
 "Ah! I conceive— I conceive," replied 
 Mr Campbell ; " ye were kindly afeared 
 of committing a stranger into collision with 
 
ROB iioy. 195 
 
 the judicial forms of the country ; but as I 
 understand my evidence is necessary to the 
 compurgation of ane honest gentleman 
 here, Mr Francis Osbaldistone, wha has 
 been most unjustly suspected, I will dis- 
 pense with the precaution — Ye will, there- 
 fore, please tell Mr Justice Inglewood, whe- 
 ther we did not travel several miles toge- 
 ther on the road, in consequence of your 
 own anxious request and suggestion, reite- 
 rated ance and again, baith on the evening 
 that we were at Northallerton, and there 
 declined by me, but afterwards accepted, 
 when I overtook ye on the road near Clo- 
 berry Allers, and was prevailed on by you 
 to resign my ain intentions of proceeding 
 to Rothbury ; and, for my misfortune, to 
 laccompany you on your proposed route." 
 
 ** It's a melancholy truth," answered 
 
 'Morris, holding down his head, as he gave 
 
 this general assent to the long and leading 
 
 question which Campbell put to him, and 
 
 to which he assented with rueful docility. 
 
 '* And 1 presume you can also asseverate 
 
19G ROB Koy. 
 
 to his worship, that no man is better quali- 
 fied than I am to bear testimony in this 
 case, seeing that I was by you, and near 
 you, constantly during the whole occur- 
 rence ?" 
 
 *' No man better qualified, certainly,' 
 said Morris, with a deep and embarrassed 
 sigh. 
 
 " And why the devil did you not assist 
 him then," said the justice, " since, by 
 Mr Morris's account, there were but two 
 robbers ; so you were two to two, and you 
 are both stout likely men ?" 
 
 *< Sir, if it please your worship," said 
 Campbell, ** I have been all my life a man 
 of peace and quietness, no ways given to 
 broils or batteries. Mr Morris, who be- 
 longs, as I understand, or hath belonged, 
 to his Majesty's army, might have used his 
 pleasure in resistance, he travelling, as I 
 understand, with a great charge of trea- 
 sure y but for me, who had but my own 
 small peculiar to defend, and who am a 
 man of a pacific occupation, I was unwil- 
 
ROB ROY. 197 
 
 ling to commit myself to hazard ia the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 I looked at Campbell as he uttered tliese 
 words, and never recollect to have seen a 
 more singular contrast than that between 
 the strong daring sternness expressed in his 
 harsh features, and the air of composed 
 meekness and simplicity which his language 
 assumed. There was even a slight ironical 
 smile lurking about the corners of his mouth, 
 which seemed, involuntarily as it were, to in- 
 timate his disdain of the quiet and peaceful 
 
 ' character which he thought proper to as- 
 sume, and which led me to entertain strange 
 suspicions that his concern in the violence 
 done to Morris had been something very 
 
 1 different from that of a fellow-sufferer, or 
 even of a mere spectator. 
 
 Perhaps some such suspicions crossed 
 the Justice's mind at the moment, for he 
 exclaimed, as if by way of ejaculation, 
 ** Body o* me ! but this is a strange story." 
 The North Briton seemed to guess at 
 what was passing in his mind ; for he went 
 
198 ROB ROY. 
 
 on, with a change of manner and tone, dis- 
 missing from his countenance some part 
 of the hypocritical affectation of humility " 
 which had made him obnoxious to suspi- 
 cion, and saying, with a more frank and 
 unconstrained air, " To say the truth, I ' 
 am just ane o' these canny folks wha care 
 not to fight, but when they hae gotten 
 something to fight for, which did not chance , 
 to be my predicament when I fell in wi* 
 these loons. But, that your worship may 
 know that I am a person of good fame and ii 
 character, please to cast your eye over that 
 billet." 
 
 Mr Inglewood took the paper from his 
 hands, and read half aloud, " These are to 
 certify, that the bearer, Robert Campbell of 
 — "'*Of some place which I cannot pro--' 
 nounce," interjected the justice, — " is a per-.' 
 son of good lineage, and peaceable demea- 
 nour, travelling towards England on his 
 own proper affairs, &c. &c. &c. Given un- 
 der our hand, at our Castle of Inver — In- 
 vera — rara — Argyle." 
 
 " A slight testimonial, sir, which I 
 
ROB ROY. 199 
 
 thought fit to impetrate from that worthy 
 nobleman, (here he raised his hand to his 
 head, as if to touch his hat,) MacCallum- 
 more." 
 
 " MacCallura, who, sir ?" said the Jus- 
 tice. 
 |k ** Whom the Southern call the Duke of 
 Argyle." 
 
 " I know the Duke of Argyle very well 
 to be a nobleman of great worth and dis- 
 tinction, and a true lover of his country. 
 I was one of those that stood by him in 
 1714, when he unhorsed the Duke of Marl- 
 borough out of his command. I wish we 
 had more noblemen like him. He was an 
 honest Tory in these days, and hand and 
 glove with Ormond. And he has acceded 
 to the present government, as I have done 
 myself, for the peace and quiet of his coun- 
 try ; for I cannot presume that great man 
 to have been actuated, as violent folks pre- 
 tend, with the fiear of losing his^places and 
 regiment. His testimonial, as you call it, 
 Mr Campbell, is perfectly satisfactory ; and 
 
200 ROB ROY. 
 
 now, what have you got to say to this nfiat- 
 ter of the robbery ?" 
 
 ** Briefly this, if it please your worship ; 
 that Mr Morris might as weel charge it 
 against the babe yet to be born, or against 
 myself even, as against this young gen- 
 tleman, Mr Osbaldistone ; for I am not 
 only free to depone that the person for 
 whom he took him was a shorter man, and 
 a thicker man, but also^ for I chanced to 
 obtain a glisk of his visage, as his fause-face 
 slipped aside, that he was a man of other ' 
 features and complexion than those of this 
 young gentleman, Mr Osbaldistone. And 
 I believe," he added, turning round with a 
 natural, yet somewhat sterner air, to Mr < 
 Morris, "that thegentleman will allow I had \ 
 better opportunity to take cognisance wha , 
 were present on that occasion than he, be- 
 ing, I believe, much the cooler o' the twa." 
 
 ^* I agree to it, sir — I agree to it perfect- 
 ly," said Morris, shrinking back, as Camp- 
 bell moved his chair towards him to fortify 
 his appeal — '* And I incHne, sir," he add- 
 
ROB ROY. 201 
 
 ed, addressing Mr Inglewood, " to retract 
 my information as to Mr Osbaldistone ; and 
 I request, sir, you will permit him, sir, to 
 go about his business, and me to go about 
 mine also ; your worship may have busi- 
 ness to settle with Mr Campbell, and I am 
 rather in haste to be gone." 
 
 " Then, there go the declarations," said 
 the Justice, throwing them into the fire — 
 ** And now you are at perfect liberty, Mr 
 Osbaldistone — And you, Mr Morris, are set 
 quite at your ease." 
 
 " Aye," said Campbell, eyeing Morris as 
 he assented with a rueful grin to the Jus- 
 tice's observations, " much like the ease of 
 a toad under a pair of harrows — But fear 
 nothing, Mr Morris ; you and I maun leave 
 the house thegether. I will see you safe — I 
 hope you will not doubt my honour^ when 
 I say sae — to the next highway, and then 
 we part company ; and if we do not meet 
 as friends in Scotland, it will be your aia 
 fault." 
 
 With such a lingering look of terror as 
 
 I 2 
 
202! ROB ROY, 
 
 the condemned criminal throws, when he 
 is informed that the cart awaits him, Mor- 
 ris arose ; but when on his legs appeared to 
 hesitate. " I tell thee, man, fear nothing," 
 reiterated Campbell ; '' I will keep my word 
 with you — Why, thou sheep's-heart, how do 
 ye ken but we may can pick up some speer- 
 ings of your valise, if ye will be amenable 
 to gude counsel ? — Our horses are ready- 
 Bid the Justice fareweel, man, and show 
 your southern breeding." 
 
 Morris, thus exhorted and encouraged, 
 took his leave, under the escort of Mr 
 Campbell ; but, apparently, new scruples 
 and terrors had struck him before they left 
 the house, for I heard Campbell reiterating ' 
 assurances of safety and protection as they 
 left the anti-room^^** By the soul of my 
 body, man, thou'rt as safe as in thy father's 
 kail-yard — Zounds ! that a chield wi' sic a 
 black beard, should hae nae mair heart than 
 a hen-partridge — Come on wi' you, like a 
 frank fallow, anes and for aye." 
 
 The voice died away, and the subsequent 
 trampling of their horses announced to us 
 
ROB ROY. 203 
 
 that they had left the mansion of Justice 
 Inglewood. 
 
 The joy which that worthy magistrate 
 received at this easy conchision of a mat- 
 ter which threatened him with some trou- 
 ble in his judicial capacity, was somewhat 
 damped by reflection on what his clerk's 
 views of the transaction might be at his re- 
 turn. " Now, I shall have Jobson on my 
 shoulders about these d — d papers — I doubt 
 I should not have destroyed them after all 
 — But, hang it, it is only paying his fees, 
 and that will make all smooth — And now, 
 Miss Die Vernon, though I have libera- 
 ted all the others, I intend to sign a writ 
 for committing you to the custody of Mo- 
 ther Blakes, my old housekeeper, for the 
 evening, and we will send for my neigh- 
 bour, Mrs Musgrave, and the Miss Daw- 
 kins, and your cousins, and have old Cobs 
 the fiddler, and be as merry as the maids ; 
 and Frank Osbaldistone and I will have a 
 carouse that will make us fit company for 
 you in half an hour." 
 
 55 
 
204 ROB ROY, 
 
 " Thanks, most worshipful," returned 
 Miss Vernon ; " but, as matters stand, we 
 must return instantly to Osbaldistone Hall, 
 where they do not know what has become 
 of us, and relieve my uncle of his anxiety 
 on my cousin's account, which is just the 
 same as if one of his own sons were con- 
 cerned," 
 
 ** I believe it truly," said the Justice j 
 ** for when his eldest son, Archie, came to 
 a bad end, in that unlucky affair of Sir John 
 Fenwick's, Old Hildebrand used to hollow 
 out his name as readily as any of the re- 
 maining five, and then complain that he 
 could not recollect which of his sons had 
 been hanged. So, pray hasten home, and 
 relieve his paternal solicitude, since go you 
 must. — But, hark thee hither, heath.blos- 
 som," he said, pulling her towards him by 
 the hand, and in a good-humoured tone of 
 admonition, " another time let the law 
 take its course, without putting your pret- 
 ty finger into her old musty pye, all full of 
 fragments of law-latin — French and dog- 
 latin — And, Die, my beauty, let young fel- 
 
ROB ROY. 205 
 
 lows shew each other the way through the 
 moors, in case your should lose your own 
 road, while you are pointing out theirs, my 
 pretty Will o' the Wisp." 
 
 With this admonition, he saluted and dis- 
 missed Miss Vernon, and took an equally 
 kind farewell of me. 
 
 ** Thou seems to be a good tight lad, 
 Mr Frank, and I remember thy father too 
 —he was my play-fellow at school. Hark 
 thee, lad, ride early at night, and don't 
 swagger with chance passengers on the 
 king's highway. What, man ! all the king's 
 liege subjects are not bound to understand 
 joking, and it's ill cracking jests on matters 
 of felony. And here's poor Die Vernon 
 too — a manner alone and deserted on the 
 face of this wide earth, and left to ride, and 
 run, and scamper at her own silly pleasure. 
 Thou must be careful of Die, or egad, I will 
 turn a young fellow again on purpose, and 
 fight thee myself, although I must own it 
 would be a great deal of trouble. And 
 now, get ye both gone, and leave me to my 
 
206 ROB Roy. 
 
 pipe of tobacco, and my meditations ; for 
 what says the song— 
 
 *' The Indian leaf doth briefly burn ; 
 So doth man*s strength to weakness turn ;— 
 The fire of youth extinguish'd quite, 
 Comes age, like embers, dry and white. 
 
 Think of this as you take tobacco." 
 
 I was much pleased with the gleams of ' 
 sense and feeling which escaped from the 
 Justice through the vapours of sloth and 
 self-indulgence, assured him of my respect 
 to his admonitions, and took a friendly fare- 
 well of the honest magistrate and his hos^ 
 pitable mansion. 
 
 We found the same servant of Sir Hilde- 
 brand who had taken our horses at our en- 
 trance, and who had been directed, as he 
 informed Miss Vernon, by Mr Rashleigh, 
 to wait and attend upon us home. We 
 rode a little way in silence, for, to say truth, 
 my mind was too much bewildered with the 
 events of the morning to permit me to be 
 the first to break it. At length Miss Ver- 
 
ROB ROY. 207 
 
 non exclaimed, as if giving vent to her own 
 reflections, ** Well, Rashleigh is a man to 
 be feared and wondered at, and all but 
 loved ; he does whatever he pleases, and 
 makes all others his puppets — has a player 
 ready to perform every part which he ima- 
 gines, and an invention and readiness which 
 supplies expedients for every emergency." 
 
 ** You think, then," said I, answering ra- 
 ther to her meaning, than to the express 
 words she made use of, " that this Mr 
 Campbell, whose appearance was so oppor- 
 tune, and w^ho trussed up and carried off 
 my accuser as a falcon trusses a partridge, 
 was an agent of Mr Rashleigh Osbaldis- 
 tone's ?" 
 
 ** I do guess as much," replied Diana, 
 " and shrew^dly suspect, moreover, that he 
 would hardly have appeared so very much 
 in the nick of time, if I had not happened 
 to meet Rashleigh in the hall at the Jus- 
 tice's." 
 
 '* In that case, my thanks are chiefly due 
 to you, my fair preserver." 
 
208 ROB ROY. 
 
 " To be sure they are," returned Diana ; 
 " and pray, suppose them paid, and accept- 
 ed with a gracious smile, for 1 do not care 
 to be troubled with hearing them in good 
 earnest, and am much more Hkely to yawn 
 than to behave becoming. In short, Mr 
 Frank, I wished to serve you, and I have 
 fortunately been able to do so, and have 
 only one favour to ask in return, and that 
 is, that you will say no more about it. — But 
 who comes here to meet us, ' bloody wdth 
 spurring, fiery-red with haste ?' It is the . 
 subordinate man of law, I think, no less 
 than Mr Joseph Jobson." 
 
 And Mr Joseph Jobson it proved to be, 
 in great haste, and, as it speedily appeared, 
 in most extreme bad humour. He came 
 up to us, and stopped his horse as we were 
 about to pass, with a slight salutation. 
 
 " So, sir — so. Miss Vernon — aye — I see 
 well enough how it is — bail put in during 
 my absence, I suppose — I should like to 
 know who drew the recognizance, that's all. 
 If his worship uses this form of procedure 
 
 10 
 
ROB ROY. 209 
 
 often, I advise him to get another clerk, 
 that's all, for I shall certainly demit." 
 
 *' Or suppose he get his present clerk 
 stitched to his sleeve, Mr Jobson," said 
 Diana, " would not that do as well ? And 
 pray how does Farmer Rutledge, Mr Job- 
 son, I hope you found him able to sign, 
 seal, and deliver ?" 
 
 This question seemed greatly to increase 
 the wrath of the man of law. He looked 
 at Miss Vernon with such an air of spite 
 and resentment, as laid me under a strong 
 temptation to knock him off his horse with 
 the butt of my whip, which I only sup- 
 pressed in consideration of his insignifi- 
 cance. 
 
 Y '^ Farmer Rutledge, ma'am ?" said the 
 clerk, so soon as his indignation permitted 
 him to articulate. " Farmer Rutledge is in 
 as handsome enjoyment of his health as you 
 are — it's all a bam, ma'am — all a bamboozle 
 and a bite that affair of his illness ; and if 
 you did not know as much before, you 
 know it now, ma'am." 
 
£10 
 
 ROB ROY. 
 
 " La ! you there now," replied Miss Ver- | 
 non, with an affectation of extreme and 
 simple wonder, *' sure you don't say so, 
 Mr Jobson ?" 
 
 *' But I do say so, ma'am," rejoined the 
 incensed scribe ; " and moreover I say, that 
 the old miserly clod-breaker called me pet- 
 tifogger — pettifogger, ma'am — and said I 
 came to hunt for a job, ma'am — which I have , 
 no more right to have said to me than any 
 other gentleman of my profession, ma'am — 
 especially as I am clerk to the peace, having 
 and holding said office under Trigesimo 
 Septimo Henrij Octavi, and Primo Guliel- 
 mi, — the first of King William, ma*am, of 
 glorious and immortal memory — our im- 
 mortal deliverer from papists and pretend- 
 ers, and wooden shoes and warming pans, 
 Miss Vernon." 
 
 " Sad things, these wooden shoes and 
 warming pans," retorted the young lady, 
 who seemed to take pleasure in augment- 
 ing his wrath ; — " and it is a comfort you 
 don't seem to want a warming pan at prq- 
 
ROB ROY. 211 
 
 sent, Mr Jobson. I am afraid Gaffer Rut- 
 ledge has not confined his incivility to lan- 
 guage — Are you sure he did not give you 
 a beating ?" 
 
 <* Beating, ma'am ! — no" — (very shortly )^ 
 " no man alive shall beat me, I promise 
 you, ma'am." 
 
 *' That is according as you happen to me- 
 rit, sir," said I ; " for your mode of speak- 
 ing to this young lady is so unbecoming, 
 that if you do not change your tone, I shall 
 think it worth while to chastise you myself." 
 
 " Chastise, sir ? and — me, sir ? — Do you 
 know whom you speak to, sir ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," I replied ; " you say yourself 
 you are clerk of peace to the county ; and 
 Gaffer Rutledge says you are a pettifog- 
 ger ; and in neither capacity are you entit- 
 led to be impertinent to a young lady of 
 fashion." 
 
 Miss Vernon laid her hand on my arm, 
 and exclaimed, " Come, Mr Osbaldistone, I 
 will have no assaults and battery on Mr 
 Jobson f I am not in sufficient charity with 
 
 i 
 
212 ROB ROY. 
 
 him to permit a single touch of your whip, 
 — why, he would live on it for a term at 
 least.. Besides, you have already hurt his 
 feelings sufficiently — you have called him 
 impertinent." 
 
 " I don't value his language, Miss," said 
 the clerk, somewhat crest-fallen; " besides, 
 impertinent is not an actionable word ; but 
 pettifogger is slander in the highest degree, 
 and that I will make Gaffer Rutledge know 
 to his cost, and all who maliciously repeat 
 the same to the breach of the public peace, 
 and the taking away of my private good 
 name." 
 
 *' Never mind that, Mr Jobson," said Miss 
 Vernon ; " you know, where there is no- 
 thing, your own law allows that the king^ 
 himself must lose his rights ; and, for the 
 taking away of your good name, I pity the 
 poor fellow who gets it, and wish you joy of 
 losing it with all my heart." 
 
 *< Very well, ma'am — good evening, 
 ma'am — I have no more to say — only there 
 are laws against papists, which it would be 
 
 i 
 
ROB ROY. 213 
 
 well for the land were they better executed. 
 There's third and fourth Edward VI., of 
 antiphoners, missalls, grailes, processionals, 
 manuals, legends, pies, portuasses, and those 
 that have such trinkets in their possession, 
 Miss Vernon — and there's summoning of 
 papists to take the oaths — and there are po- 
 pish recusant convicts under the first of his 
 present Majesty — aye, and there are penal- 
 ties for hearing mass. See twenty-third 
 Queen Elizabeth ; and third James First, 
 chapter twenty-fifth. — And there are estates 
 to be registered, and deeds and wills to be 
 enrolled, and double taxes to be made, ac- 
 cording to the acts in that case made and 
 provided" — 
 
 '* See the new edition of the Statutes at 
 Large, published under the careful revi- 
 sion of Joseph Jobson, Gent., Clerk of the 
 Peace," said Miss Vernon. 
 
 " Also, and above all," continued Jobson, 
 — ** for I speak to your warning — you, Di- 
 ana Vernon, spinstress, not being a femme 
 covert j and being a convict popish recu- 
 
214 ROB ROY. 
 
 sant, are bound to repair to your own dwel- 
 ling, and that by the nearest way, under 
 penalty of being held felon to the king — 
 and diligently to seek for passage at com- 
 mon ferries, and to tarry there but one 
 ebb and flood ; and unless you can have 
 it in such places, to walk every day into 
 the water up to the knees, assaying to pass 
 over." 
 
 ** A sort of protestant penance for my 
 catholic errors, I suppose," said Miss Ver. 
 non, laughing. '* Well, I thank you for • 
 the information, Mr Jobson, and will hie 
 me home as fast as I can, and be a bet- 
 ter housekeeper in time coming. Good 
 night, my dear Mr Jobson, thou mirror of , 
 clerical courtesy." 
 
 " Good night, ma'am, and remember , 
 ihe law is not to be trifled with." 
 
 And w^e rode on our separate ways. 
 
 ** There he goes, for a troublesome mis- 
 chief-making tool," said Miss Vernon, as 
 she gave a glance after him ; " it is hard 
 that persons of birth and rank and estate 
 
^OB ROY. 215 
 
 should be subjected to the official imperti- 
 nence of such a paltry pick-thank as that, 
 merely for beheving as the whole world 
 believed not much above a hundred vears 
 ago — for certainly our Catholic faith has 
 the advantage of antiquity at least." 
 
 " I was much tempted to have broken 
 the rascal's head," I replied. 
 
 ** You would have acted very like a hasty 
 young man," said Miss Vernon ; " and yet, 
 had my own hand been an ounce heavier 
 than it is, I think I should have laid its 
 weight upon him. — Well, it does not signify 
 complaining, but there are three things for 
 which I am much to be pitied, if any one 
 thought worth while to waste compassion 
 upon me." 
 
 " And what are these three things, Miss 
 I Vernon ?" ^4^- 
 
 '* Will you promise me your deepest 
 sympathy, if I tell you ?" 
 
 '* Certainly ; — can you doubt it ?" I re- 
 plied, closing my horse nearer to her's as I 
 spoke, with an expression of interest which 
 I did not attempt to disguise. 
 
216 ROB ROY. 
 
 " Well, it is very seducing to be pitied 
 after all ; so here are my three grievances 
 — In the first place, I am a girl, and not a 
 young fellow, and would be shut in a mad- 
 house, if I did half the things that I have a 
 mind to ; and that, if I had your happy pre^ j 
 rogative of acting as you list, would make 
 all the world mad with imitating and ap- 
 plauding me." 
 
 ** I can't quite afford you the sympathy; 
 you expect upon this score," 1 replied ; ' 
 <* the misfortune is so general, that it be-j 
 longs to one half of the species ; and the '■ 
 other half—" 
 
 *' Are so much better cared for, that theyl 
 are jealous of their prerogatives," interrupt-- 
 ed Miss Vernon ; " I forgot you were a! 
 ^■^party interested. Nay," said she, as I was 
 goings speak, " that soft smile is intend- 
 ed toue the preface of a very pretty com- 
 pliment respecting the peculiar advantages 
 which Die Vernon's friends and kinsmen 
 enjoy, by her being born one of their He- 
 lots J but spare me the utterance, my 
 
HOB ROY. 217 
 
 good friend, and let us try whether we 
 shall agree better on the second count of 
 my indictment against fortune, as that quill- 
 driving puppy would call it. I belong to 
 an oppressed sect and antiquated religion, 
 and, instead of getting credit for my devo- 
 tion, as is due to all good girls beside, my 
 kind friend, Justice Inglewood, may send 
 me to the house of correction, merely for 
 worshipping God in the way of my ances- 
 tors, and say, as old Pembroke did to the 
 Abbess of Wilton, when he usurped her 
 convent and establishment, * Go spin, you 
 jade, — go spin.' " 
 
 " This is not a cureless evil," said I 
 gravely. " Consult some of our learned 
 divines, or consult your own excellent un- 
 derstanding. Miss Vernon ; and surely the^fc 
 particulars in which our religious cJ^jcl dif- 
 fers from that in which you have been edu- 
 cated '' 
 
 " Hush !" said Diana, placing her fore- 
 finger on her mouth, — " hush ! no more of 
 that — forsake the faith of my gallant fa^ 
 
 VOL. I, K 
 
218 ROB ROY. 
 
 thers ! — I would as soon, were I man, for- 
 sake their banner, when the tide of battle 
 pressed hardest against it, and turn, like a 
 hireling recreant, to join the victorious ene- 
 my." 
 
 ** I honour your spirit. Miss Vernon ; 
 and as to the inconveniences to which it 
 exposes you, I can only say, that wounds 
 sustained for the sake of conscience carry 
 their own balsam with the blow." 
 
 " Ay ; but they are fretful and irrita- 
 ting, for all that. But I see, hard of heart 
 as you are, my chance of beating hemp, or 
 drawing out flax into marvellous coarse 
 thread, affects you as little as my condem- 
 nation to coif and pinners, instead of beaver 
 and cockade ; so I will spare myself the 
 fruitless pains of telling my third cause of 
 vexatiofi." 
 
 ** Nay, my dear Miss Vernon, do not 
 withdraw your confidence, and I will pro- 
 mise you, that the three-fold sympathy due 
 to your very unusual causes of distress shall 
 be all duly and truly paid to account of the 
 third, providing you assure me, that it is 
 
ROB ROY. 21 9 
 
 one which you neither share with all wo- 
 mankind, nor even with eveiy catholic in 
 England, who, God bless you, are still a 
 sect more numerous than we protestants, in 
 our zeal for church and state, would desire- 
 them to be." 
 
 " It is, indeed," said Diana, with a man- 
 ner greatly altered, and more serious than I 
 had yet seen her assume, " a misfortune that 
 well merits compassion. I am by nature, as 
 you may easily observe, of a frank and un- 
 reserved disposition — a plain honest girl, 
 who would willingly act openly and honest- 
 ly by the whole world, and yet fate has in- 
 volved me in such a series of nets, and toils, 
 and entanglements, that I dare hardly speak 
 a word for fear of consequences— not to 
 myself, but to others." 
 
 " That is indeed a misfortune. Miss 
 Vernon, which I do most sincerely com- 
 passionate, but w^iich I should hardly have 
 anticipated." 
 
 " O, Mr Osbaldistone, if you but knew 
 — if any one knew, what difficulty I some- 
 
^flO HOB ROY. 
 
 limes find in hiding an aching heart with 
 a smooth brow, you would indeed pity me 
 — I do wrong, perhaps, in speaking to you 
 even thus far on my own situation. But 
 you are a man of sense and penetration — 
 you cannot but long to ask me a hundred 
 questions on the events of this day — on the 
 share which Rashleigh has in your deHver* 
 ance from this petty scrape — upon many 
 other points which cannot but excite your 
 attention — and I cannot bring myself to 
 answer with the necessary falsehood and 
 finesse — 1 should do it awkwardly, and lose 
 your good opinion, if I have any share of 
 it, as well as my own. It is best to say at 
 once. Ask me no questions, I have it not in 
 my power to reply to them." 
 
 Miss Vernon spoke these words with a< 
 tone of feeling which could not but make 
 a corresponding impression upon me. I 
 assured her she had neither to fear my ur- 
 ging her with impertinent questions, nor 
 my misconstruing her declining to an- 
 swer those which might in themselves be 
 
 5 
 
ROB ROY. 221 
 
 reasonable, or at least natural. " I was 
 too much obliged," I said, ** by the in- 
 terest she had taken in my affairs, to mis- 
 use the opportunity her goodness had af- 
 forded me of prying into her's — I only 
 trusted and entreated, that if mv services 
 could at any time be useful, she would com- 
 mand them, without doubt or hesitation." 
 
 ** Thank you — thank you," she replied ; 
 " your voice does not ring the cuckoo 
 chime of compliment, but speaks like that 
 of one who knows to what he pledges him- 
 self. If — but it is impossible — but yet, if 
 an opportunity sliould occur, I will ask you 
 if you remember this promise ; and I assure 
 you, I shall not be angry if I find you have 
 forgotten it, for it is enough that you are 
 sincere in your intentions just now — much 
 may occur to alter them ere I call upon 
 you, should that moment ever come, to as- 
 sist Die Vernon, as if you were Die Ver- 
 non's brother." 
 
 " And if I were Die Vernon's brother," 
 said I, *' there cannot be less chance that I 
 
21^2! ROB liQY. 
 
 shall refuse my assistance — And now I am 
 afraid I must not ask whether Rashleigh was 
 willingly accessory to my deliverance ?" j 
 
 ** Not at me ; but you may ask it at him- 
 self, and, depend upon it, he will say T/ei"; 
 for rather than any good action should 
 walk through the world like an unappro- 
 priated adjective in an ill-arranged sen- 
 tence, he is always willing to stand noun 
 substantive to it himself" 
 
 ** And I must not ask whether this Camp- 
 bell be himself the party who eased Mr 
 Morris of his portmanteau, or whether the 
 letter, which our friend the attorney re- 
 ceived, was not a finesse to withdraw him 
 from the scene of action, lest he should 
 have marred the happy event of my deli- 
 verance ? And I must not ask — " 
 
 " You must ask nothing at me," said Miss 
 Vernon ; <* so it is quite in vain to go on 
 putting cases. You are to think just as well 
 of me, as if I had answered all these que- 
 ries, and twenty others besides, as glibly 
 as Rashleigh could have done j and observe, 
 
ROB ROY. 223 
 
 whenever I touch my chin just so, it is a 
 sign that I cannot speak upon the topic 
 which happens to occupy your attention. 
 I must settle signals of correspondence with 
 you, because you are to be my confidant 
 and my counsellor, only you are to know 
 nothing whatever of my affairs." 
 
 '* Nothing can be more reasonable," I re- 
 plied, laughing ; *' and the extent of your 
 confidence will, you may rely upon it, only 
 be equalled by the sagacity of my coun- 
 sels." 
 
 This sort of conversation brought us, in 
 the highest good humour with each other, 
 to Osbaldistone-Hall, where w^e found the 
 family far advanced in the revels of the 
 evening. 
 
 ** Get some dinner for Mr Osbaldistone 
 and me in the library," said Miss Vernon to 
 a servant. — " 1 must have some compassion 
 upon you," she added, turning to me, " and 
 provide against your starving in this man- 
 sion of brutal abundance ; otherwise I am 
 not sure that I should show you my private 
 
22S4 ROB ROY. 
 
 hauntSv^ This same library is my den — the 
 only corn^' of the Hall-house where I am 
 safe from the Oiiran-Outangs, my cousins. 
 They never venture there, I suppose, for 
 fear the folios should flill down and crack 
 their skulls ; for they will never affect their 
 heads in any other way — So follow me." 
 
 And I followed through hall and bower, 
 vaulted passage and winding- stair, until we 
 reached the room where she had ordered 
 our refreshments. 
 
k 
 
 ROB Koy. 225 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 In the wide pile, by others heeded not, 
 Hers was one sacred solitary spot. 
 Whose gloomy aisles and bending shelves contain 
 For moral hunger food, and cures for moral pain. 
 
 Anonymous, 
 
 The library at Osbaldistone-Hall was a 
 gloomy room, whose antique oaken shelves 
 bent beneath the weight of the ponderous 
 folios so dear to the seventeenth century, 
 ifrom which, under favour be it spoken, we 
 have distilled matter for our quartos and 
 octavos, and which, once more subjected to 
 the alembic, may, should our sons be yet 
 more frivolous than ourselves, be still farther 
 reduced into duodecimos and pamphlets. 
 The collection was chiefly of the classics, as 
 well foreign as ancient history, and, above 
 
226 ROB ROY. 
 
 all, divinity. It was in wretched order. 
 The priests, who, in succession, had acted 
 as chaplains at the Hall, were, for many 
 years, the only persons who entered its 
 precincts, until Rashleigh's thirst of reading 
 had led him to disturb the venerable spiders, 
 who had muffled the fronts of the presses 
 with their tapestry. His destination for the 
 church rendered his conduct less absurd in 
 his father's eyes, than if any of his other de- 
 scendants had betrayed so strange a propen- 
 sity, and Sir Hildebrand acquiesced in the 
 room's receiving some repairs, so as to fit it 
 for a sitting apartment. Still an air of dilapi- 
 dation, as obvious as it was uncomfortable, 
 pervaded the large apartment, and announ- 
 ced the neglect from which the knowledge 
 which its walls contained had not been able' 
 to exempt it. The tattered tapestry, the 
 worm-eaten shelves, the huge and clumsy, 
 yet tottering, tables, desks, and chairs, the 
 rusty grate, seldom gladdened by either 
 sea-coal or faggots, intimated the contempt 
 of the lords of Osbaldistone-Hall for learn- 
 
ROB ROY. 227 
 
 ing, and the volumes which record its 
 treasures. 
 
 " You think this place somewhat discon- 
 solate, I suppose?" said Diana, as I glanced 
 my eye round the forlorn apartment ; '* but 
 to me it seems like a little paradise, for 
 I call it my own, and fear no intrusion. 
 Rashleigh was joint proprietor with me, 
 while we were friends." 
 
 " And are you no longer so ?" was my 
 natural question. 
 
 Her forefinger immediately touched her 
 dimpled chin, with an arch look of prohi- 
 bition. 
 
 " We are still allies,'' she continued, 
 " bound, like other confederate powers, by 
 circumstances of mutual interest ; but I am 
 afraid, as will happen in othercases, the treaty 
 of alliance has survived the amicable dispo- 
 sitions in which it had its origin. At any rate, 
 we live less together ; and when he comes 
 through that door there, I vanish through 
 this door here ; and so, having made the 
 discovery that we two were one too many 
 for this apartment, as large as it seems,. 
 
228 ROB ROY. 
 
 Rashleigli, whose occasions frequently call 
 him elsewhere, has generously made a ces- 
 sion of his rights in my favour ; so that I 
 now endeavour to prosecute alone the stu- 
 dies in which he used formerly to be my 
 guide." 
 
 '* And what are those studies, if I may 
 presume to ask ?" 
 
 " Indeed you may, without the least fear 
 of seeing my fore-finger raised to my chin. 
 Science and history are ray principal fa- 
 vourites ; but I also study poetry and the 
 classics." 
 
 " And the classics ? Do you read them 
 in the original ?" 
 
 " Unquestionably ; Rashleigh, who is no 
 contemptible scholar, taught me Greek and 
 Latin, as well as most of the languages of 
 modern Europe. I assure you, there has 
 been some pains taken in my education, 
 although I can neither sew a tucker, nor 
 work cross-stitch, nor make a pudding, nor, 
 as the vicar's fatw^ife, with as m.uch truth as 
 elegance, good will, and politeness, was 
 
ROB ROY. 229 
 
 pleased to say in my behalf, do any other 
 useful thing in the versal world." 
 
 " And was this selection of studies Rash- 
 leigh's choice, or your own, Miss Vernon ?" 
 asked T. 
 
 " Um !" said she, as if hesitating to an- 
 swer my question, — *• it's not worth while 
 lifting my finger about, after all — why. part- 
 ly his, and partly mine. As I learned out 
 of doors to ride a horse, and bridle and sad- 
 dle him in case of necessity, and to clear a 
 five-barred gate, and fire a gun without 
 winking, and all other of those masculine 
 accomplishments that my brute cousins run 
 mad after, I wanted, like my rational cou- 
 sin, to read Greek and Latin within doors, 
 and make my complete approach to the 
 tree of knowledge, which you men-scholars 
 would engross to yourselves, in revenge, I 
 suppose, for our common mother's share in 
 the great original transgression." 
 
 " And Rashleigh readily indulged your 
 propensity to learning ?" 
 
 f 
 
 " Why, he wished to have me for his 
 
 scholar, and he could but teach me that 
 
230 ROB ROY. 
 
 which he knew himself — he was not hke 
 to instruct me in the mysteries of washing 
 lace- ruffles, or hemming cambric-handker- 
 chiefs, I suppose." 
 
 " I admit the temptation of getting such 
 a scholar made a weighty consideration on 
 the tutor's part." 
 
 " O, if you begin to investigate Rash- 
 leigh's motives, my finger touches my chin 
 once more. I can only be frank where my 
 own are enquired into. But to resume — 
 he has resigned the library in my favour, 
 and never enters without leave had and ob- 
 tained ; and so I have taken the liberty to 
 make it the place of deposit for some of my 
 own goods and chattels, as you may see by 
 looking round you." 
 
 " I beg pardon, Miss Vernon, but I real- 
 ly see nothing around these walls which I 
 can distinguish as likely to claim you as 
 mistress." 
 
 ** That is, I suppose, because you neither 
 see a shepherd or shepherdess wrought in 
 worsted, handsomely framed in black ebo- 
 ny, — or a stuffed parrot, — or a breedings 
 
ROB ROY. 231 
 
 cage, full of canary birds, — or a bouse- 
 wife-case, broidered with tarnished silver, 
 — or a toilette- table, with a nest of japanned 
 boxes, with as many angles as Christmas 
 minced pies, — or a broken-backed spinet, — 
 or a lute with three strings, — or rock-work, 
 — or shell-work, — or needle-work, or work 
 of any kind, — or a lap-dog, with a litter of 
 blind puppies — None of these treasures do I 
 possess," she continued, after a pause, in or- 
 der to recover the breath she had lost in enu- 
 merating them — But there stands the sw^ord 
 of my ancestor Sir Richard Vernon, slain 
 at Shrewsbury, and sorely slandered by a 
 sad fellow called Will Shakspeare, whose 
 Lancastrian partialities, and a certain knack 
 at embodying them, has turned history up- 
 side down, or rather inside out ; — and by 
 that redoubted weapon hangs the mail of 
 the still older Vernon, squire to the Black 
 Prince, whose fate is the reverse of his de- 
 scendant's, since he is more indebted to the 
 bard, who took the trouble to celebrate him, 
 for good will, than for talents, — 
 
 7 
 
 h 
 
232 ROB ROY. 
 
 * Amiddes the route you might descern one 
 Brave knight, with pipes on shield, ycleped Vernon ; 
 Like a borne fiend along the plain he thundered, 
 Prest to be carving throtes, while others plundered/ 
 
 Then there is .a model of a new martin- 
 gale which I invented myself — a great im- 
 provement on the Duke of Newcastle's ; 
 and there are the hood and bells of my fal- 
 con Cheviot, who spitted himself on a he- 
 ron's bill at Horsely-moss — poor Cheviot, 
 there is not a bird on the perches below, 
 but are kites and riflers compared to him y 
 and there is my own light fowling-piece, with 
 an improved fire-lock ; with twenty other 
 treasures, each more valuable than another 
 — And there, that speaks for itself." 
 
 She pointed to the carved oak-frame oi 
 a full length portrait by Vandyke, on which 
 were inscribed, in Gothic letters, the words 
 Vernon semper viret, I looked at her for 
 explanation — " Do you not know," said 
 she, with some surprise, " our motto — the 
 Vernon motto, where, 
 
 * Like the solemn vice, Iniquity, 
 
 We moralize two meanings ia one word ?* 
 
w 
 
 ROB ROY. 233 
 
 And clo you not know our cognizance, the 
 pipes ?" pointing to the armorial bearings 
 sculptured on the oaken scutcheon, around 
 which the legend was displayed. 
 
 ** Pipes ! — they look more like penny- 
 whistles — Hut, pray, do not be angry with 
 my ignorance," I continued, observing the 
 colour mount to her cheeks, *' I can mean 
 no affront to your armorial bearings, for I 
 do not even know mv own." 
 
 " You an Osbaldistone, and confess so 
 much !" she exclaimed. " ^Vhy, Percie, 
 Thornie, John, Dickon — Wilfred himself, 
 might be your instructor — Even ignorance 
 itself is a plummet over you." 
 
 " With shame I confess it, my dear Miss 
 Vernon, the mysteries coUched under the 
 grim hieroglyphics of heraldry, are to me as 
 unintelligible as those of the pyramids of 
 Egypt." 
 
 «' What ! is it possible ? — Wliy, even my 
 uncle reads Gwillym sometimes of a winter 
 night — Not know the figures of heraldry ? — 
 of what could your lather be thinking ?" 
 
 " Of the figures of arithmetic," I an- 
 
234) ROB ROY. 
 
 swered ; " the most insignificant unit of 
 which he holds more highly than all the 
 blazonry of chivalry. But, though I am 
 ignorant to this inexpressible degree, I have 
 knowledge and taste enough to admire that 
 splendid picture, in which I think I can 
 discover a family likeness to you. What 
 ease and dignity in the attitude — what 
 richness of colouring — what breadth and 
 depth of shade !" 
 
 " Is it really a fine painting ?" she asked. 
 
 " I have seen many works of the renown- 
 ed artist," I replied, " but never beheld 
 one more to my liking." 
 
 *' \yell, I know as little of pictures as 
 you do of heraldry," replied Miss Vernon j; 
 " yet I have the advantage of you, because 
 I have always admired the painting with- 
 out understanding its value." 
 
 " While I have neglected pipes and ta- 
 bors, and all the whimsical combination* 
 of chivalry, still I am informed that they 
 floated in the fields of ancient fame. But 
 you will allow their exterior appearance is 
 not so peculiarly interesting to the unin- 
 
ROB ROY. 235 
 
 formed spectator as that of a fine painting, 
 — Who is the person here represented ?'* 
 
 '* My grandfather — he shared the mis- 
 fortunes of Charles I. ; and, I am sorry to 
 add, the excesses of his son. Our patrimo- 
 nial estate was greatly impaired by his pro- 
 digality, and was altogether lost by his suc- 
 cessor, my unfortunate father. But peace 
 be with them who have got it — it was lost 
 in the cause of loyalty/' 
 
 '* Your father. I presume, suffered in the 
 political dissensions of the period ?** 
 
 ** He did indeed ; he lost his all. And 
 hence is his child a dependent orphan ; 
 eating the bread of others; subjected to 
 their caprices, and compelled to study their 
 inclinations: Yet prouder of having had 
 such a father, than if, playing a more pru- 
 dent, but less upright part, he had left 
 me possessor of all the fair baronies which 
 his family once possessed," 
 
 As she thus spoke, the entrance of the 
 servants with the dinner cut oil' all conver- 
 sation, but that of a general nature. 
 
236 ROB ROY. 
 
 When our hasty meal was concluded, and 
 
 . the wine placed on the table, the domestic 
 
 ^informed us, " that Mr llashleigh had de* 
 
 sired to be told when our dinner was re- 
 
 moved,'* 
 
 " Tell him," said Miss Vernon, ** we 
 shall be ha[)py to see him if he wil"! -tep this 
 way — place another wine-glass and chair, 
 and leave the room. — You must retire with 
 him when he goes away," she continued, 
 addressing herself to me ; " even my libe- i 
 rality cannot spare a gentleman above eight 
 hours out of the twenly-fbur ; and I think 
 we have been together lor at least that length 
 of time." 
 
 " The old scythe-man has moved so ra- 
 pidly," I answered, " that I could not count 
 his strides." 
 
 " Hush !" said Miss Vernon, '•' here comes 
 Rashleigh ;" and she drew otFher chair, to 
 which I had approached m.ine rather close- 
 ly, so as to place a greater distance between 
 us. 
 
 A modest tap at the door; a gentle man- 
 
ROB ROY. 237 
 
 ner of opening when invited to enter ; a 
 studied softness and humility of step and 
 deportment, announced that the education 
 of Rashleigh Osbaldistone at the College of 
 St Omers accorded well with the ideas I 
 entertained of the manners of an accom- 
 plished Jesuit. I need not add, that, as a 
 sound protestant, these ideas were not the 
 most favourable. " Why should you use 
 the ceremony of knocking," said Miss Ver- 
 non, " when you knew that I was not 
 alone ?" 
 
 This was spoken with a burst of impa- 
 tience, as if she had feit that Rashleigh's 
 air of caution and reserve covered some in- 
 sinuation of impertinent suspicion. << You 
 have taught me the form of knocking at 
 this door so perfectly, my fair cousin," an- 
 swered Rashleigh, without change of voice 
 or manner, " that habit has become a se- 
 cond nature." 
 
 " I prize sincerity more than courtesy, 
 sir, and you know I do," v;as Miss Ver- 
 non's reply. 
 
238 ROB ROY. 
 
 ** Courtesy is a gallant gay, a courtier by 
 name and by profession," replied Rashleigh, 
 " and therefore most fit for a lady's bower." 
 
 " But Sincerity is the true Knight," re- 
 torted Miss Vernon, « and therefore much 
 more welcome, cousin. But, to end a de- 
 bate not over amusing to your stranger 
 kinsman, sit down, Rashleigh, and give Mr 
 Francis Osbaldistone your countenance to 
 his glass of wine. I have done the honours 
 of the dinner for the credit of Osbaldistone 
 Hall." 
 
 Rashleigh sate down, and filled his glass, 
 glancing his eye from Diana to me, with an 
 embarrassment which his utmost efforts could 
 not entirely disguise. 1 thought he appear- 
 ed to be uncertain concerning the extent of 
 confidence she might have reposed in me, 
 and hastened to lead the conversation into 
 a channel which should sweep away his sus- 
 picion that Diana might have betrayed any 
 secrets which rested between them. '< Miss 
 Vernon," I said, " Mr Rashleigh, has re- 
 commended me to return my thanks to you 
 
ROB ROY. 239 
 
 for my speedy disengagement from the ri- 
 diculous accusation of Morris ; and, unjust- 
 ly fearing my gratitude might not be warm 
 enough to remind me of this duty, she has 
 put my curiosity on its side, by referring 
 me to you for an account, or rather expla- 
 nation, of the events of the day." 
 !^ " Indeed ?" answered Rashleigh ; " I 
 should have thought," (looking keenly at 
 Miss Vernon,) " that the lady herself might 
 have stood interpreter j" and his eye, re- 
 verting from her face, sought mine as if to 
 search from the expression of my features, 
 whether Diana's communication had been 
 as narrowly limited as my words had inti- 
 mated- Miss Vernon retorted his inquisi- 
 torial glance with one of decided scorn ; 
 while I, uncertain whether to deprecate or 
 resent his obvious suspicion, replied ; '' If 
 it is your pleasure, Mr Rashleigh, as it has 
 been Miss Vernon's, to leave me in igno- 
 rance, I must necessarily submit; but, pray, 
 do not withhold your information from me, 
 on the ground of imagining that I have al- 
 
 ft 
 
I 
 
 240 ROB ROY. 
 
 ready obtained any on the subject. For I 
 tell you as a man ot honour, I am as igno- 
 rant as that picture of any thing relating to 
 the events I have witnessed to-flay, except- 
 ing that 1 understand from Miss Vernon, 
 that you have been kindly active in my fa- 
 vour." 
 
 " Miss Vernon has over-rated my hum- 
 ble efforts," said Rashleigh, '< though I 
 claim full credit for mv zeal. The truth is, 
 that as I gallopped back to get some one of 
 our family to join me in becoming your 
 bail, which was the most obvious, or, in- 
 deed, I may say, the only w^ay of serving 
 you wliich occurred to my stupidity, I met 
 the man Cawmil — Colville — Campbell, or 
 whatsoever they call him. I had under- 
 stood from Morris that he was present 
 when the robbery took place, and had the 
 good fortune to prevail on him, (with some 
 difficulty, I confess,) to tender his evidence 
 in your exculpation, which I presume was 
 the means of your being released from an 
 unpleasant situation," 
 
ROB ROY. 241 
 
 " Indeed ? — I am much your debtor for 
 procuring such a seasonable evidence in my 
 behalf^ But I cannot see why, (having 
 been, as he said, a fellow-sufferer with 
 Morris,) it should have required much trou- 
 ble to persuade him to step forth and bear 
 evidence, whether to convict the actual 
 robber, or free an innocent person." 
 
 ** You do not know the genius of that 
 man's country, sir," answered Rashleigh ; 
 <^ discretion, prudence, and foresight, are 
 their leading quahties ; these are only mo- 
 dified by a narrow-spirited, but yet ardent 
 patriotism, which forms as it were the out- 
 most of the concentric bulwarks with which 
 a Scotchman fortifies himself against all 
 the attacks of a generous philanthropical 
 principle. Surmount this mound, you find 
 an inner and still dearer barrier — the love 
 of his province, his village, or, most pro- 
 bably, his clan ; storm this second obsta- 
 cle, you have a third — his attachment to 
 his own family — his father, mother, sons., 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
242 ROB ROY. 
 
 daughters, uncles, aunts, and cousins, to 
 the ninth generation. It is within these 
 limits that a Scotchman's social affection 
 expands itself, never reaching those which 
 are outermost, till all means of dischar- 
 ging itself in the interior circles have been 
 exhausted. It is within these circles that 
 his heart throbs, each pulsation t)eing faint- 
 er and fainter, till, beyond the widest boun- 
 dary, it is almost unfelt. And what is 
 worst of all, could you surmount all these 
 concentric outworks, you have an inner 
 citadel, deeper, higher, and more efficient 
 than them all' — a Scotchman's love for him- 
 self." 
 
 ** All this is extremely eloquent and me- 
 taphorical, Rashleigh," said Miss Vernon, 
 who listened with unrepressed impatience ; 
 <* there are only two objections to it : first, 
 it is wo/ true ; secondly, if true, it is no- 
 thing to the purpose." 
 
 '« It is true, my fairest Diana," returned 
 Rashleigh ; '* and moreover, it is most in- 
 stantly to the purpose. It is true, because 
 
I 
 
 ilOB ROY. Siti 
 
 you cannot deny that I know the country 
 and people intimately, and the character 
 is drawn from deep and accurate consider- 
 ation ; and it is to the purpose, because it 
 answers Mr Francis Osbaldistone's question, 
 and shews why this same wary Scotchman, 
 considering our kinsman to be neither his 
 countryman, nor a Campbell, nor his cou- 
 sin in any of the inextricable combinations 
 by which they extend their pedigree ; and, 
 ibove all, seeing no prospect of personal ad- 
 vantage, but, on the contrary, much hazard 
 if loss of time and delay of business — " 
 
 ** With other inconveniencies, perhaps, 
 bf a nature yet more formidable," inter- 
 upted Miss Vernon. 
 
 " Of w^hich, doubtless, there might be 
 iQany," said Rashleigh, continuing in the 
 ame tone — " In short, my theory shows 
 fhy this man, hoping for no advantage, and 
 fraid of some inconvenience, might require 
 degree of persuasion ere he could be pre- 
 ailed on to give his testimony in favour of 
 fr Osbaldistone." 
 
 
244 ROB ROY. 
 
 " It seems surprising to me," I observed, 
 " that during the glance 1 cast over the de- 
 claration, or whatever it is termed, of Mr 
 Morris, he should never have mentioned 
 that Campbell was in his company when he 
 met the maurauders." 
 
 *' I understood from Campbell, that he 
 had taken his solemn promise not to men- 
 tion that circumstance," replied Rashleigh; 
 " his reason for exacting such an engage- 
 ment you may guess from what I have hint- 
 ed — he wished to get back to his own coun. 
 try undelayed, and unembarrassed by an} 
 of the judicial enquiries which he would 
 have been under the necessity of attending, 
 had the fact of his being present at the rob 
 bery taken air while he was on this side ol 
 the Border. But let him once be as distani 
 as the Forth, Morris will, I warrant you 
 come forth with all he knows about him 
 and, it may be, a good deal more. Besides, 
 Campbell is a very extensive dealer in cat 
 tie, and has often occasion to send grea 
 droves over into Northumberland j and 
 
I 
 
 ROB ROY. 245 
 
 hen driving such a trade, he would be a 
 iircat fool to embroil himself with our Nor- 
 thumbrian tiiieves, than whom no men who 
 live are more vindictive." 
 jk^ " I dare be sworn of that," said Miss 
 Vernon, with a tone which implied some- 
 thing more than a simple acquiescence in 
 the proposition. 
 
 '* Still," said I, resuming the subject, 
 " allowing the force of the reasons which 
 Campbell might have for desiring that Mor- 
 ris should be silent with regard to his pro- 
 mise when the robbery was committed, I 
 cannot yet see how he could attain so much 
 influence over the man, as to make him sup- 
 press his evidence in that particular, at the 
 manifest risk of subjecting his story to dis- 
 credit." 
 
 Rashleigh agreed with me, that it was 
 very extraordinary, and seemed to regret 
 that he had not questioned the Scotchman 
 more closely on that subject, which he al- 
 lowed looked extremelymysterious. '* But," 
 he asked, immediately after this acquies- 
 
246 ROB ROY. 
 
 cence, " are you very sure the circumstanct 
 of Morris's being accompanied by Camp- 
 bell, is really not alluded to in his exami- 
 nation ?" 
 
 ** I read the paper over hastily," said I; 
 " but it is my strong impression, that no 
 such circumstance is mentioned ; at least it 
 must have been touched on very slightly, 
 since it failed to catch my attention." 
 
 '' True, true," answered Rashleigh, form- 
 ing his own inference while he adopted my 
 words ; '* I incline to think with you, that 
 the circumstance must in reality have been 
 mentioned, but so slightly, that it failed to 
 attract your attention. And then, as to 
 Campbell's interest with Morris, I incline to 
 suppose that it must have been gained by 
 playing upon his fears. This chicken-hearted 
 fellow, Morris, is bound, I understand, for 
 Scotland, destined for some little employ- 
 ment under government; and, possessing 
 the courage of the wrathful dove, or most 
 magnanimous mouse, he may have been 
 afraid to encounter the ill-will of such a kill- 
 
ROB ROY. 247 
 
 COW as Campbell, whose very appearance 
 would be enough to fright him out of his 
 little \vits. You observed that Mr Camp- 
 bell has at times a keen and animated man- 
 ner — something of a martial cast in his tone 
 and bearing." 
 
 " I own," I replied, " that his expression 
 struck me as being occasionally fierce and 
 sinister, and little adapted to his peaceable 
 professions. Ha& he served in the army ?" 
 
 ** Yes — no — not, strictly speaking, served; 
 but he has been, I believe, like most of 
 his countrymen, trained to arms. Indeed, 
 among the hills, they carry them from boy- 
 hood to the grave. So, if you know any 
 thing of your fellow-traveller, you will ea- 
 sily judge, that, going to such a country, he 
 will take care to avoid a quarrel if he can 
 help it with any of the natives. — But, come, 
 I see you decline your wine — and I too am 
 a degenerate Osbaldistone, so far as respects 
 the circulation of the bottle. If you will go 
 to my room, I will hold you a hand at pi- 
 quet." 
 
248 ROB ROY. 
 
 We rose to take leave of Miss Vernon, 
 who had from time to time suppressed, ap- 
 parently with difficulty, a strong temptation 
 to break in upon Rashleigh's details. As 
 we left the room, the smothered fire broke 
 forth. " Mr Osbaldistone," she said, " your 
 own observation will enable you to verify the 
 justice, or injustice, of Rashleigh's sugges- 
 tions concerning such individuals as Mr 
 Campbell and Mr Morris. But, in slan- 
 dering Scotland, he has borne false wit- 
 ness against a whole country; and I re- 
 quest you will allow no weight to his evi- 
 dence." 
 
 " Perhaps I may find it somewhat diffi- 
 cult to obey your injunction, Miss Ver- 
 non; for I must own I was bred up with 
 no very favourable idea of our northern 
 neighbours." 
 
 *' Distrust that part of your education, 
 sir," she replied, " and let the daughter of 
 a Scotchwoman pray you to respect the land 
 which gave her parent birth, until your own 
 observation has proved them to be unwor- 
 
ROB ROY. g49 
 
 thy of your good opinion. Preserve your 
 hatred and contempt for dissimulation, base- 
 ness, and falsehood, wheresoever they are 
 to be met with. You will find enough of 
 all without leaving England. — -Adieu, gen- 
 tlemen, — I wish you good evening." 
 
 And she signed to the door, with the 
 manner of a princess dismissing her train. 
 
 We retired to Rashleigh's apartment, 
 where a servant brought us coffee and cards. 
 I had formed my resolution to press Rash- 
 leigh no farther on the events of the day. 
 A mystery, and, as I thought, not of a fa- 
 vourable complexion, appeared to hang 
 over his conduct ; but to ascertain if my 
 suspicions were just, it was necessary to 
 throw him off his guard. We cut for the 
 deal, and were soon earnestly engaged in our 
 play. I thought I perceived in this trifling 
 for amusement (for the stake which Rash- 
 leigh proposed was a mere trifle) something 
 of a fierce and ambitious temper. He seem- 
 ed perfectly to understand the beautiful 
 
 L 2 
 
950 ROB Roy. 
 
 game at which he played, but preferred , as 
 it were on principle, the risking bold and 
 precarious strokes to the ordinary rules of 
 play, and neglecting the minor and better 
 balanced chances of the game ; he hazard- 
 ed every thing for the chance of piqueing, 
 repiqueing, or capotting his adversary. So 
 soon as the intervention of a game or two 
 at piquet, like the music between the acts 
 of a drama, had completely interrupted our 
 previous course of conversation, Rashleigh 
 appeared to tire of the game, and the cards 
 were superseded by discourse, in which he 
 assumed the lead. 
 
 More learned than soundly wise — better 
 acquainted with men's minds than with the 
 moral principles that ought to regulate 
 them, he had still powers of conversation 
 which I have rarely seen equalled, never 
 excelled. Of this his manner implied some 
 consciousness ; at least, it appeared to me 
 thathehad studied hard to improve his natu- 
 ral advantages of a melodious voice, fluent 
 and happy expression, apt language and fer- 
 
ilOB ROV. 251 
 
 vid imagination. He was never loud, never 
 overbearing, never so much occupied with 
 his own thoughts, as to outrun either the 
 patience or the comprehension of those he 
 conversed with. His ideas succeeded each 
 other wdth the gentle but unintermitting 
 flow of a plentiful and bounteous spring j 
 while I have heard those of others, who 
 aimed at distinction in conversation, rush 
 along like the turbid gush from the sluice 
 of a mill-pond, as hurried, and as early ex- 
 hausted. It was late at night ere I could 
 part from a companion so fascinating j and, 
 tvhen I gained my own apartment, it cost 
 me no small effort to recal to my mind the 
 character of Rashleigh, such as I had pic- 
 tured him previous to this tete-a-tete. 
 
 So effectually, my dear Tresham, does 
 the sense of being pleased and amused blunt 
 our faculties of perception and discrimina- 
 tion of character, that I can only compare 
 it to the taste of certain fruits, at once lus- 
 cious and poignant, which renders our pa- 
 
^52 ROB ROY. 
 
 late totally unfit for relishing or distinguish- 
 ing the viands which are subsequently sub 
 jected to its critiscism. 
 
ROB HOY. 25S 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 What gars you gaunt, my merry men a' ? 
 
 What gars ye look sae dreary ? 
 What gars ye hing your head sae sair 
 
 In the castle of Balwearie ? 
 
 Old Scotch Ballad. 
 
 The next morning chanced to be Sun- 
 day, a day peculiarly hard to be got rid of 
 at Osbaldistone-Hall ; for after the formal 
 religious service of the morning had been 
 performed, at which all the family regular- 
 ly attended, it was hard to say upon which 
 individual, Rashleigh and Miss Vernon ex- 
 cepted, the fiend of ennui descended with 
 the most abundant outpouring of his spirit. 
 To speak of my yesterday's embarrassment 
 amused Sir Hildebrand for several minutes, 
 and he congratulated me on my deliverance 
 
254i ROB ROY. 
 
 from Morpeth or Hexham jail, as he would 
 have done if I had fallen in attempting to 
 clear a five-barred gate, and got up without 
 hurting myself. 
 
 " Hast had a lucky turn, lad ; but do na 
 be over venturous again. What, man ! the 
 king's road is free to all men, be they 
 Whigs, be they Tories !" 
 
 *' On my w ord, sir, I am innocent of in- 
 terrupting it ; and it is the most provoking 
 thing on earth, that every person will take 
 it for granted that I am accessory to a crime 
 which I despise and detest, and which would, 
 moreover, deservedly forfeit my life to the 
 laws of my country." 
 
 *' Well, well, lad ; even so be it ; I ask 
 no questions — no man bound to tell on him- 
 sell — that's fair play, or the devil's in*t." 
 
 Rashleigh here came to my assistance ; 
 but 1 could not help thinking that his argu- 
 ments were calculated rather as hints to his 
 father to put on a show of acquiescence in 
 my declaration of innocence, than fully to 
 establish it. 
 
ROB ROY. 255 
 
 ** In your own house, my dear sir — and 
 your own nephew — you will not surely per- 
 sist in hurting his feelings, by seeming to 
 discredit what he is so strongly interested 
 in affirming. No doubt, you are fully de- 
 serving of all his confidence, and I am sure 
 were there any thing you could do to assist 
 him in this strange affair, he would have re- 
 course to your goodness. But my cousin 
 Frank has been dismissed as an innocent 
 man, and no one is entitled to suppose him 
 otherwise. For my part, I have not the 
 least doubt of his innocence ; and our fa- 
 mily honour, I conceive, requires that we 
 should maintain it with tongue and sword 
 against the whole country." 
 
 *' Rashleigh," said his father, looking fix- 
 edly at him, *' thou art a sly loon — thou 
 hast ever been too cunning for me, and 
 too cunning for most folks. Have a care 
 thou prove na too cunning for thysell — two 
 faces under one hood is no true heraldry. — 
 And since we talk of heraldry, I'll go and 
 read Gwillym." 
 
^56 ROB ROY. 
 
 This resolution he intimated with a yawn, 
 resistless as that of the Goddess in the Diin- 
 ciad, which was responsively echoed by his 
 giant-sons, as they dispersed in quest of the 
 pastimes to which their minds severally in- 
 clined them. — Percie to discuss a pot of 
 March beer with the steward in the butlery, 
 — ThornclifF to cut a pair of cudgels, and 
 fix them in their wicker-hilts, — John to dress 
 May-flies, — Dickon to play at pitch and 
 toss by himself — his right hand against his 
 left,— and Wilford to bite his thumbs, and 
 hum himself into a slumber which should 
 last till dinner-time, if possible. Miss Ver- 
 non had retired to the library. 
 
 Rashleigh and I were left alone in the 
 old hall, from w^hich the servants, with their 
 usual bustle and awkwardness, had at length 
 contrived to hurry the remains of our sub- 
 stantial breakfast. I took the opportunity 
 to upbraid him with the manner in which 
 he had spoken of my affair to his father, 
 which I frankly stated w^as highly offensive 
 to me, as it seemed rather to exhort Sir 
 
ROB ROYo 257 
 
 Hildebrand to conceal his suspicions, than 
 to root them out. 
 
 •* Why, wliat can I do, my dear friend ?" 
 replied Rashleigh ; *• my father's disposi- 
 tion is so tenacious of suspicions of all 
 kinds, when once they take root, which, to 
 do him justice, does not easily happen, that 
 I have always found it the best way to si- 
 lence him upon such subjects, instead of 
 arguing with him. Thus i get the better 
 of the weeds which I cannot eradicate, 
 by cutting them over as often as they ap- 
 pear, until at length they die away of 
 themselves. There is neither wasdom nor 
 profit in disputing with such a mind as Sir 
 Hildebrand's, which hardens itself against 
 conviction, and believes in its own inspira- 
 tions as firmly as we good catholics do in 
 those of the Holy Father of Rome." 
 
 ** It is very hard though, that 1 should 
 live in the house of a man, and he a near 
 relation too, w'ho will persist in believing 
 me guilty of a highway robbery." 
 
 ** My father's foolish opinion, if one may 
 
258 HOB ROY. 
 
 give that epithet to any opinion of a father^, 
 does not affect your real innocence ; and 
 as to the disgrace of the fact, depend on it, 
 that, considered in all its bearings, poHtical 
 as well as moral, Sir Hildebrand regards it 
 as a meritorious action — a weakening of 
 the enemy — a spoiling of the Amalekites — 
 and you will stand the higher in his regard 
 for your supposed accession, to it." 
 
 *' I desire no man's regard, Mr Rasli- 
 leigh, on such terms as must sink me in my 
 own; and I think these injurious suspicions 
 will afford a very good reason for quitting 
 Osbaldistone-Hall, which I shall do when- 
 ever I can communicate on the subject 
 with my father." 
 
 The dark countenance of Rashleigh, 
 though little accustomed to betray its mas- 
 ter's feelings, exhibited a suppressed smile, 
 which he instantly chastened by a sigh. 
 
 " You are a happy man, Frank — you go 
 and come, as the wind bloweth where it 
 listeth. With your address, taste, and ta- 
 lents, you will soon find circles where they 
 
ROB HOY. 259 
 
 will be more valued, than amid the dull 
 
 inmates of this mansion -, while I " he 
 
 paused. 
 
 ** And what is there in your lot that can 
 make you or any one envy mine, an out- 
 cast, as I may almost term myself^ from my 
 father's house and favour ?" 
 
 ** Ay, but," answered Rashleigh, ** con- 
 sider the gratified sense of independence 
 which you must have attained by a very 
 temporary sacrifice, for such I am sure 
 yours will prove to be — consider the power 
 of acting as a free agent, of cultivating your 
 own talents in the way to which your taste 
 determines you, and in which you are well 
 qualified to distinguish yourself — Fame and 
 freedom are cheaply purchased by a few 
 weeks residence in the North, even though 
 your place of exile be Osbaldistone-Hall. — 
 A second Ovid in Thrace, you have not 
 his reasons for writing Tristia." 
 
 " I do not know," said I, blushing as be- 
 came a young scribbler, *< how you should 
 
t60 ROB ROY. 
 
 be so well acquainted with my truant stu- 
 dies." 
 
 ** There was an emissary of your fathers 
 here some time since, a young coxcomb, 
 one Twineall, who iufbrnied me concerning 
 your secret sacrifices to the muses, and 
 added, that some of your verses had been 
 greatly admired by the best judges." 
 
 Tresham, 1 believe you are guiltless 
 of having ever essayed to build the lofty 
 rhyme ; but you must have known in your 
 day many an apprentice and fellow- craft, 
 if not some of the master-masons in ♦he 
 temple of Apollo. Vanity is their universal 
 foible, from him who decorated the shades 
 of Twickenham, to the veriest scribbler 
 whom he has lashed in his Dunciad. I 
 had my own share of this common fail- 
 ing, and without considering how little 
 likely this young fellow Twineall was, by 
 taste and habits, to be acquainted either 
 with one or two little pieces of poetry, 
 which I had at times insinuated into But- 
 ton's coffee-house, or to report the opinion 
 
ROB ROY. S61 
 
 of the critics who frequented that resort of 
 wit and literature, I almost instantly gor- 
 ged the bait, which Rashleigh perceiving, 
 improved his opportunity by a diffident, 
 yet apparently very anxious request, to be 
 permitted to see some of my manuscript 
 productions. 
 
 " You shall give me an evening in my 
 own apartment," he continued ; *' for I 
 must soon lose the charms of Hterary socie- 
 ty for the drudgery of commerce, and the 
 coarse every-day avocations of the world. 
 I repeat it, that my compliance with my fa- 
 ther's wishes for the advantage of my fami- 
 ly, is indeed a sacrifice, especially consider- 
 ing the calm and peaceful profession to 
 which my education destined me." 
 
 I was vain, but not a fool, and this hy- 
 pocrisy was too strong for me to swallow—.. 
 " You would not persuade me," I replied, 
 " that you really regret to exchange the 
 situation of an obscure catholic priest, with 
 all its privations, for wealth and society^ 
 and the pleasures of the world ?" 
 
 1 
 
262 ROB ROY. 
 
 Rashleigh saw that he had coloured his 
 affectation of moderation too highly, and, 
 after a second's pause, during which, I sup- 
 pose, he calculated the degree of candour 
 which it was necessary to use with me, 
 (that being a quality of which he was never 
 needlessly profuse) he answered with a 
 smile, — '* At my age to be condemned, as 
 you say, to wealth and the world, does not, 
 indeed, sound so alarming as perhaps it 
 ought to do* But, with pardon be it spoken, 
 you have mistaken my destination — a ca- 
 tholic priest, if you will, but not an obscure 
 one — No, sir, Rashleigh Osbaldistone will 
 be more obscure, should he rise to be the 
 richest citizen in London, than he might 
 have been as a member of a church, whose 
 ministers, as some one says, * set their san- 
 dall'd feet on princes.' — My family interest 
 at a certain exiled court is high, and the 
 weight which that court ought to possess, 
 and does possess at Rome, is yet higher — 
 my talents not altogether inferior to the 
 education I have received — In sober judg- 
 ment, I might have looked forward to high 
 
ROB ROY. 263 
 
 I 
 
 eminence in the church — ^in the dream of 
 fancy, to the very highest — Why might not," 
 (he added, laughing, for it was part of his 
 manner to keep much of his discourse ap- 
 parently betwixt jest and earnest,) — why 
 might not Cardinal Osbaldistone have sway- 
 ed the fortunes of empires, well-born and 
 well-connected, as well as the low-born 
 Mazarin, or Alberoni the son of an Italian 
 gardener?" 
 
 " Nay, I can give you no reason to the 
 contrary ; but in your place I should not 
 much regret losing the chance of such pre- 
 carious and invidious elevation." 
 
 " Neither would I," he replied, " were I 
 sure that mypresent establishment was more 
 certain ; but that must depend upon circum- 
 stances, which I can only learn by experi- 
 tmce — the disposition of your father for ex- 
 uiiple." 
 
 " Confess the truth without finesse, Rash- 
 eigh ; you would willingly know something 
 )f him from me ?" 
 ,^^ Since, Hke Die Vernon, you make a 
 
2:64 ROB ROY. 
 
 point of following the banner of the good 
 knight Sincerity, I reply — certainly." 
 
 " Well, then, you will find in my father 
 a man who has followed the paths of thri- 
 ving more for the exercise they afforded to 
 his talents, than for the love of the gold 
 with which they are strewed. His active 
 mind would have been happy in any situa- 
 tion which gave it scope for exertion, though 
 that exertion had been its sole reward. But 
 his wealth has accumulated, because, mode- 
 rate and frugal in his habits, no new sour- 
 ces of expence have occurred to dispose of 
 his increasing income. He is a man who 
 hates dissimulation in others ; never prac- 
 tises it himself; and is peculiarly alert in 
 discovering motives through the colouring 
 of language. Himself silent by habit, he 
 is readily disgusted by great talkers ; the 
 rather, that the circumstances by which he 
 is most interested afford no great scope for 
 conversation. He is severely strict in the 
 duties of religion ; but you have no reason 
 to iear his interfierence with yours, tor he 
 
ROB ROY. 265 
 
 regards toleration as a sacred principle of 
 political economy. But if you have any ja- 
 cobitical partialities, as is naturally to be 
 supposed, you will do well to suppress them 
 in his presence, as well as the least tendency 
 to the highflying or Tory principles ; for he 
 holds both in utter detestation. For the 
 rest, his word is his own bond, and must 
 be the law of all who act under him. He 
 will fail in his duty to no one, and will 
 permit no one to fail towards him ; to cul- 
 tivate his favour, you must execute his 
 commands, instead of echoing his senti- 
 ments. His greatest failings arise out of 
 prejudices connected with his own profes- 
 sion, or rather his exclusive devotion to it, 
 which makes him see little worthy of praise 
 or attention, unless it be, in some measure, 
 connected with commerce." 
 
 '* O rare-painted portrait !" exclaimed 
 Ilashleigh, when I was silent — " Vandyke 
 was a dauber to you, Frank. I see thy sire 
 before me in all his strength and weakness, 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
 f 
 
266 ROB ROY. 
 
 loving and honouring the King as a sort of 
 lord mayor of the empire, or chief of the 
 board of trade ; — venerating the Commons, 
 for the acts regulating the export trade ; — 
 and respecting the Peers, because the Lord 
 Chancellor sits on a wool-sack." 
 
 " Mine was a likeness, Rashleigh ; yours 
 is a caricature. But in return for the carte 
 de pays which I have unfolded to you, give 
 me some lights on the geography of the un- 
 known lands — " 
 
 ** On which you are wrecked," said Rash- 
 leigh. " It is not worth while ; it is no isle 
 of Calypso, umbrageous with shade and 
 intricate with sylvan labyrinth — but a bare 
 ragged Northumbrian moor, with as little 
 to interest curiosity as to delight the eye — 
 you may descry it in all its nakedness in 
 half an hour's survey, as well as if I were 
 to lay it down before you by line and com- 
 pass." 
 
 " O, but something there is, worthy a 
 more attentive survey — What say you to 
 Miss Vernon ? Does not she form an inte- 
 
I ROB ROY. 267 
 
 resting object in the landscape, were all 
 around as rude as Iceland's coast ?" 
 
 I could plainly perceive that Rashleigh 
 disliked the topic now presented to him ; but 
 my frank communication had given me the 
 advantageous title to make enquiries in my 
 turn. Rashleigh felt this, and found him- 
 self obhged to follow my lead, however dif- 
 ficult he might find it to play his cards suc- 
 cessfully. " 1 have known less of Miss 
 Vernon," he said, '* for some time, than I was 
 wont to do formerly. In early age I was 
 her tutor ; but as she advanced towards 
 womanhood, my various avocations, — the 
 gravity of the profession to which I was des- 
 tined, — the peculiar nature of her engage- 
 ments, — our mutual situation, in short, ren- 
 dered a close and constant intimacy dan- 
 gerous and improper. I believe Miss Ver- 
 non might consider my reserve as unkind- 
 ness, but it was my duty ; 1 felt as much as 
 she seemed to do, when compelled to give 
 way to prudence. But where was the safety 
 in cultivating an intimacy with a beautiful 
 
26S ROB ROY. 
 
 and susceptible girl, whose heart, you arc 
 aware, must be given either to the cloister 
 or to a betrothed husband ?" 
 
 " The cloister or a betrothed husband ?" 
 I echoed — " Is that the alternative destined 
 for Miss Vernon ?" 
 
 " It is indeed," said Rashleigh, with a 
 sigh. " I need not, I suppose, caution you 
 against the danger of cultivating too close- 
 ly the friendship of Miss Vernon ; you are 
 a man of the world, and know how far you 
 can indulge yourself in her society, with 
 safety to yourself and justice to her. But 
 I warn you, that, considering her ardent 
 temper, you must let your experience keep 
 guard over her as well as yourself, for the 
 specimen of yesterday may serve to show 
 her extreme thoughtlessness and neglect of 
 decorum." 
 
 There was something, I was sensible, of 
 truth, as well as good sense, in all this ; it 
 seemed to be given as a friendly warning, 
 and I had no right to take it amiss ; yet I 
 felt 1 could with pleasure have run Rash- 
 
ROB ROY. 269 
 
 leigh Osbaklistone through the body all the 
 time he was speaking. 
 
 The deuce take his insolence ! was my 
 internal meditation. "Would he wish me to 
 infer, that Miss Vernon had tallen in love 
 with that hatchet-face of his, and become 
 degraded so low as to require his shyness 
 to cure her of an imprudent passion ? I 
 will have his meaning from him, was my 
 resolution, if I should drag it out with cart- 
 ropes. 
 
 For this purpose, I placed my temper 
 under as accurate a guard as I could, and 
 observed, ** That, for a lady of her good 
 sense and acquired accomplishments, it w^as 
 to be regretted that Miss Vernon's manners 
 were rather blunt and rustic." 
 
 " Frank and unreserved, at least, to the 
 extreme," replied Rashleigh ; " yet, trust 
 me, she has an excellent lieart. To tell 
 you the truth, should she continue her ex- 
 treme aversion to the cloister, and to her 
 destined husband, and should my own la- 
 bours in the mine of Plutus promise to se- 
 cure me a decent independence, I shall 
 
270 ROB ROY. 
 
 think of renewing our acquaintance, and 
 sharing it with Miss Vernon." 
 
 With all his fine voice, and well-turned 
 periods, thought I, this same Rashleigh 
 Osbaldistone is the ugliest and most con- 
 ceited coxcomb I ever met with. 
 
 " But," continued Rashleigh, as if think- 
 ing aloud, " I should not like to supplant 
 Thorncliff." 
 
 '* Supplant Thorncliff ! — Is your brother 
 ThornclifF," I enquired, with great surprise, 
 " the destined husband of Diana Vernon ?" 
 
 " Why, ay ; her father's commands, and 
 a certain family-contract, destine her to 
 marry one of Sir Hildebrand's sons. A 
 dispensation has been obtained from Rome 
 to Diana Vernon to marry Blank Osbaldis- 
 tone, Esq., son of Sir Hildebrand Osbaldis- 
 tone, of Osbaldistone-Hall, Bart., and so 
 forth ; and it only remains to pitch upon 
 the happy man, whose name shall fill the 
 gap in the manuscript. Now as Percie is 
 seldom sober, my father pitched on Thorn- 
 cliff, as the second prop of the family, and 
 
ROB ROY. 271 
 
 therefore most proper to carry on the line 
 of the Osbaldistones." 
 
 " The young lady," said I, forcing myself 
 to assume an air of pleasantry, which, 1 be- 
 lieve, became me extremely ill, " would 
 perhaps, have been inclined to look a little 
 lower on the family-tree, for the branch to 
 which she was desirous of clinging." 
 
 " I cannot say," he replied. ** There is 
 room for little choice in our family ; Dick 
 is a gambler, John a boor, and Wilfred an 
 ass. I believe my father really made the 
 best selection for poor Die, after all." 
 
 •* The present company," said I, " being 
 always excepted." 
 
 " O, my destination to the church placed 
 me out of the question ; otherwise I will not 
 affect to say, that, qualified by my educa- 
 tion both to instruct and guide Miss Ver- 
 non, I might have been a more creditable 
 choice than any of my elders." 
 
 " And so thouglit the young lady, doubt- 
 less ?" 
 
 " You are not to suppose so," answered 
 
^72 ROB HOY. 
 
 Rashleigh, with an aflTectation of denial, 
 which was contrived to convey the strongest 
 affirmation the case admitted of — " friend- 
 ship — only friendship — formed the tie be- 
 twixt us, and the tender affection of an 
 opening mind to its only instructor — Love 
 came not near us — I told you I was wise in 
 time." 
 
 I felt little inclination to pursue this con- 
 versation any farther, and, shaking myself 
 clear of Rashleigh, withdrew to my own 
 apartment, which I recollect I traversed 
 with much vehemence of agitation ; repeat- 
 ed aloud the expressions which had most 
 offended me. ** Susceptible — ardent — ten- 
 der affection — Love ! — Diana Vernon, the 
 most beautiful creature I ever beheld, in 
 love v/itli him, the bandylegged, bull-neck- 
 ed, limping scoundrel ! — Richard the Third 
 in all but his hump-back ! — And yet the op- 
 portunities he must have had during his cur- 
 sed course of lectures ; and the fellow's flow- 
 ing and easy strain of sentiment ; and her 
 extreme seclusion from every one w'ho spoke 
 
ROB ROY. 273 
 
 anil acted with common sense ; ay, and her 
 obvious pique at him, mixed with admira- 
 tion of his talents, which looked as like the 
 result of neglected attachment as any thing 
 else — Well, and what is it to me that I 
 should storm and rage at it ? Is Diana Ver- 
 non the first pretty girl that has loved or 
 married an ugly fellow ? And if she was free 
 of every Osbaldistone of them, what con- 
 cern is it of mine? — A catholic — a Jacobite 
 — a termagant into the boot — for me to look 
 that way were utter madness." 
 
 By throwing such reflections on the flame 
 of my displeasure, I subdued it into a sort 
 of smouldering heart-burning, and appear- 
 ed at the dinner-table in as sulky a humour 
 as could well be imagined. 
 
 M 2 
 
274 ROB ROY, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Drunk?— and speak parrot? — and squabble ? — swagger ?— 
 Swear ?— and discourse fustian with one's own shadow ?" 
 
 Othello. 
 
 I HAVE already told you, my dear Tresh- 
 am, which probably was no news to you, 
 that my principal fault was an unconquer- 
 able pitch of pride, which exposed me to 
 frequent mortification. I had not even 
 whispered to myself, that I loved Diana 
 Vernon ; yet no sooner did I hear Rash- 
 leigh talk of her as a prize which he might 
 stoop to carry off, or neglect at his plea- 
 sure, than every step which the poor girl 
 had taken, in the innocence and openness 
 of her heart, to form a sort of friendship 
 with me, seemed in my eyes the most in- 
 sulting coquetry, " Soh ! she would secure 
 
ROB ROY. 275 
 
 me as a pis aller, I suppose, in case Mr 
 Rashleigh Osbaldistone should not take 
 compassion upon her! but I will satisfy her 
 that I am not a person to be trepanned in 
 that manner — I will make her sensible that 
 I see through her arts, and that I scorn 
 them." 
 
 I did not reflect for a moment, that all 
 this indignation, which I had no right what- 
 soever to entertain, proved that I was any 
 thing but indifferent to Miss Vernon's 
 charms, and I sate down to table in high 
 ill-humour with her and all the daughters 
 of Eve. 
 
 Miss Vernon heard me, with surprise, re- 
 turn ungracious answers to one or two play- 
 ful strokes of satire which she threw out with 
 her usual freedom of speech ; but, having 
 no suspicion that offence was meant, she 
 only replied to my rude repartees with jests 
 somewhat similar, but polished by her good 
 temper, though pointed by her wit. At 
 length she perceived I was really out of 
 humour, and answered on« of my rude 
 
276 ROB ROY. 
 
 speeches. ** They say, Mr Frank, that one 
 may gather sense from fools — I heard cou- 
 sin Wilfred refuse to play any longer at cud- 
 gels the other day with cousin Thornie, be- 
 cause cousin Thornie got angry, and struck 
 harder than the rules of amicable combat, 
 it seems, permitted. * Were I to break 
 your head in good earnest,' quoth honest 
 Wilfred, * I care not how angry you are, 
 for I should do it so much the more easi- 
 ly ; — but it's hard I should get raps over the 
 costard, and only pay you back in make- 
 believes' — Do you understand the moral of 
 this, Frank ?" 
 
 " I have never felt myself under the ne- 
 cessity, madam, of studying how to extract 
 the slender portion of sense with which this 
 family season their conversation." 
 
 " Necessity ! and madam ! — you surprise 
 nie, Mr Osbaldistone." 
 
 ** I am unfortunate in doing so." 
 
 ** Am I to suppose that this capricious 
 tone is serious ; or is it only assumed to 
 inake your good-humour more valuable ?" 
 
 11 
 
ROB ROY. 277 
 
 " You have a right to the attention of so 
 many gentlemen in this family, Miss A^er- 
 non, that it cannot be worth your while to 
 enquire into the cause of my stupidity and 
 bad spirits." 
 
 ** What ! am I to understand then you 
 have deserted my faction, and gone over to 
 the enemy ?" — 
 
 Then, looking across the table, and ob- 
 serving that Rashleigh, who was seated op- 
 posite, was watching us with a singular ex- 
 pression of interest on his harsh features, 
 she continued, 
 
 " Horrible thought ! — Ay, now I see 'tis true, 
 For the grim-visaged Rashleigh smiles on me, 
 And points at thee for his 
 
 " Well, thank Heaven, and the unprotected 
 state which has taught me endurance, I do 
 not take offence easily ; and that I may not 
 be forced to quarrel, whether I like it or 
 no, I have the honour, earlier than usual, 
 to wish you a happy digestion of your din- 
 ner and your bad humour." 
 
27S ROB ROY. 
 
 And she left the table accordingly. 
 Upon Miss Vernon's departure, I found 
 myself very little satisfied with my own 
 conduct. 1 had hurled back offered kind- 
 ness, of which circumstances had but late- 
 ly pointed out the honest sincerity, and I 
 had but just stopped short of insulting the 
 beautiful, and, as she had said with some 
 emphasis, the unprotected being by whom 
 it was proffered. My conduct seemed bru- 
 tal in my own eyes. To combat or drown 
 these painfiil reflections, I applied myself 
 more frequently than usual to the wine 
 which circulated on the table. 
 
 The agitated state of my feelings com- 
 bined with my habits of temperance to 
 give rapid effect to the beverage. Habitual 
 topers, I believe, acquire the power of 
 soaking themselves with a quantity of li- 
 quor which does little more than muddy 
 those intellects, that, in their sober state, 
 are none of the clearest; but men who are 
 strangers to the vice of drunkenness as a 
 habit, are more powerfully acted upan by 
 
ROB ROY. 279 
 
 intoxicating liquors. My spirits, once arou* 
 sed, became extravagant ; I talked a great 
 deal, argued upon what I knew nothing of, 
 told stories of which I forgot the point, 
 then laughed immoderately at my own for- 
 getfulness ; I accepted several bets without 
 having the least judgment ; I challenged 
 the giant John to wrestle with me, although 
 he had kept the ring at Hexham for a year, 
 and I never tried so much as a single fall. 
 
 My uncle had the goodness to interpose 
 and prevent this consummation of drunken 
 folly, which, I suppose, would have other- 
 wise ended in my neck being broken. 
 
 It has even been reported by my malign- 
 ers, that I sung a song while under this 
 vinous influence ; but, as I remember no- 
 thing of it, and never attempted to turn a 
 tune in all my life before or since, I would 
 willingly hope there is no foundation for 
 the calumny. I was absurd enough without 
 this exaggeration. Without positively losing 
 my senses, I speedily lost all command of 
 my temper, and my impetuous passions 
 
280 ROB HOY. 
 
 whirled me onward at their pleasure. I 
 had sate down sulky and discontented, and 
 disposed to be silent — the wine rendered 
 me loquacious, disputacious, and quarrel- 
 some. I contradicted whatever was assert- 
 ed, and attacked, without any respect to my 
 uncle's table, both his politics and his reli- 
 gion. The affected moderation of Rash- 
 leigh, which he well knew how to qualify 
 with irritating ingredients, was even more 
 provoking to me than the noisy and bully- 
 ing language of his obstreperous brothers. 
 My uncle, to do him justice, endeavoured 
 to bring us to order, but his authority was 
 lost amidst the tumult of wine and passion. 
 At length, frantic at some real, or suppo- 
 sed injurious insinuation, I actually struck 
 flashleigh with my fist. No Stoic philoso- 
 pher, superior to his own passion and that 
 of others, could have received an insult 
 with a higher degree of scorn. What he 
 himself did not think it apparently worth 
 while to resent, Thorncliff resented for 
 him. Swords were drawn, and we exchan- 
 
ROB ROY. 281 
 
 ged one or two passes, when the other bro- 
 thers separated us by main force ; and I 
 shall never forget the diabolical sneer which 
 writhed Rashleigh's wayward features, as I 
 w^as forced from the apartment by the main 
 strength of two of these youthful Titans. 
 They secured me in my apartment by lock- 
 ing the door, and I heard them, to my in- 
 expressible rage, laugh heartily as they de- 
 scended the stairs. I essayed in my fury 
 to break out ; but the window-grates, and 
 the strength of a door clenched with iron, 
 resisted my efforts. At length I threw my- 
 self on my bed, and fell asleep amidst vows 
 of dire revenge to be taken in the ensuing 
 day. 
 
 But with the morning cool repentance 
 came. I felt, in the keenest manner, the 
 violence and absurdity of my own conduct, 
 and was obliged to confess that wine and 
 passion had lowered my intellects even be- 
 low those of Wilfred Osbaldistone, whom 
 I held in so much contempt. My uncom- 
 fortable reflections were by no means sooth- 
 
282 ROB ROY. 
 
 ed by meditating the necessity of an apo- 
 l^^y for my improper behaviour, and re- 
 collecting that Miss Vernon must be a wit- 
 ness of my submission. The impropriety 
 and unkindness of my conduct to her per- 
 sonally, added not a little to these galling 
 considerations, and for this I could not even 
 plead the miserable excuse of intoxication. 
 Under all these aggravating feelings of 
 shame and degradation, I descended to the 
 breakfast-hall, like a criminal to receive 
 sentence. It chanced that a hard frost 
 had rendered it impossible to take out the 
 hounds, so that I had the additional mor- 
 tification to meet the family, excepting 
 only Rashleigh and Miss Vernon, in full 
 divan, surrounding the cold venison-pasty 
 and chine of beef^ They were in high glee 
 as I entered, and I could easily imagine 
 that the jests were furnished at my expense. 
 In fact, what I was disposed to consider 
 with serious pain, was regarded as an ex- 
 cellent good joke by my uncle, and the 
 greater part of my cousins. Sir Hilde- 
 
ROB ROY. 283 
 
 brand, while he rallied me on the exploits 
 of the preceding evening, swore he thought 
 a young fellow had better be thrice drunk 
 in one day, than sneak sober to bed like a 
 presbyterian, and leave a batch of honest 
 fellows, and a double quart of claret. And 
 to back this consolatory speech, he poured 
 out a large bumper of brandy, exhorting 
 me to swallow a hair of the dog that had 
 bit me. 
 
 " Never mind these lads laughing, ne- 
 voy," he continued ; " they would have 
 been all as great miik-sops as yourself had 
 I not nursed them, as one may say, on the 
 toast and tankard." 
 
 Ill-nature was not the fault of my cousins 
 in general ; they saw I was vexed and hurt 
 at the recollections of the preceding even- 
 ing, and endeavoured, with clumsy kind- 
 ness, to remove the painful impression they 
 had made on me. ThorncHfF alone looked 
 sullen and unreconciled. This young man 
 had never liked me from the beginning; 
 and in the marks of attention occasionally 
 
284 ROB ROY. 
 
 shewn me by his brothers, awkward as they 
 were, he alone had never joined. If it was 
 true, of which, however, I began to have 
 my doubts, that he was considered by the 
 family, or regarded himself, as the destined 
 husband of Miss Vernon, a sentiment of 
 jealousy might have sprung up in his mind 
 from the marked predilection which it was 
 that young lady's pleasure to shew for one, 
 whom ThornclifFmight, perhaps, think like- 
 ly to become a dangerous rival. 
 
 Rashleigh at last entered, his visage as 
 dark as mourning weed, brooding, I could 
 not but doubt, over the unjustifiable and 
 disgraceful insult I had offered to him. I 
 had already settled in my own mind how I 
 was to behave on the occasion, and had 
 schooled myself to believe, that true ho- 
 nour consisted not in defending, but in 
 apologizing for, an injury so much dispro- 
 portioned to any provocation I might have 
 to allege. 
 
 I therefore hastened to meet Rashleigh, 
 and to express myself in the highest de- 
 
ROB ROY. 285 
 
 gree sorry for the violence with which I 
 had acted on the preceding evening. 
 
 " No circumstances," I said, ♦* could 
 have wrung from me a single word of apo- 
 logy, save my own consciousness of the 
 impropriety of my behaviour. I hoped my 
 cousin would accept of my regrets so sin- 
 cerely oflered, and consider how much of 
 my misconduct was owing to the excessive 
 hospitality of Osbaldistone-Hall." 
 
 " He shall be friends with thee, lad," 
 cried the honest knight, in the full effusion 
 of his heart ; " or d — n me, if I call him 
 son more. Why, Rashie, dost stand there 
 like a log ? So7Ty for it is all a gentleman 
 can say, if he happens to do any thing awry, 
 especially over his claret. — I served in 
 Hounslow, and should know something, I 
 think, of affairs of honour. Let me hear 
 no more of this, and we'll go in a body and 
 rummage out the badger in Birken wood- 
 bank." 
 
 Rashleigh's face resembled, as I have al- 
 ready noticed, no other countenance that 
 
2186 ROB ROY. 
 
 I ever saw. But this singularity lay not 
 only in the features, but in the mode of 
 changing their expression. Other counte- 
 nances, in altering from grief to joy, or 
 from anger to satisfaction, pass through 
 some brief interval, ere the expression of 
 the predominant passion supersedes entire- 
 ly that of its predecessor. There is a sort 
 of twilight, like that between the clearing 
 up of the <iarkness and the rising of the 
 sun, vihile the swollen muscles subside, the 
 dark eye clears, the forehead relaxes and 
 expands itself, and the whole countenance 
 loses its sterner shades, and becomes serene 
 and placid. Rashleigh*s face exhibited 
 none of these gradations, but changed al- 
 most instantaneously from the expression 
 of one passion to that of the contrary. I 
 can compare it to nothing but the sudden 
 shifting of a scene in the theatre, where, at 
 the whistle of the prompter, a cavern dis- 
 appears and a grove arises. 
 
 My attention was strongly arrested by 
 this peculiarity on the present occasion* At 
 
 6 
 
HOB ROY. 287 
 
 Rashleigh's first entrance, "black he stood 
 as night !" With the same inflexible counte- 
 nance he heard my excuse and his father's 
 exhortation ; and it was not until Sir Hil- 
 debrand had done speaking, when the cloud 
 cleared away at once, and he expressed, in 
 the kindest and most civil terms, his perfect 
 satisfaction with the very handsome apology 
 I had ofTered. 
 
 " Indeed," he said, ** I have so poor a 
 brain myself, when I impose on it the least 
 burthen beyond my usual three glasses, 
 that I have only, like honest Cassio, a very 
 vague recollection of the confusion of last 
 night — remember a mass of things, but no- 
 thing distin. tly — a quarrel, but nothing 
 wherefore — 80 my dear cousin," he conti- 
 nued, shaking me kindly by the hand, ** con- 
 ceive how much I am relieved, by finding 
 that [ have to receive an apology, instead 
 of having to make one — I will not have a 
 word said upon the subject more ; I should 
 be very foolish to institute any scrutiny in- 
 to an account — when the balance, which I 
 
288 ROB ROY. 
 
 expected to be against me, has been so un- 
 expectedly and agreeably struck in my fa- 
 vour. You see, Mr Osbaldistone, I am prac- 
 tising the language of Lombard Street, and 
 quahfying myself for my new calling.'* 
 
 As 1 was about to answer, and raised my 
 eyes for the purpose, they encountered 
 those of Miss Vernon, who, having entered 
 the room unobserved during the conversa- 
 tion, had given it her close attention. A- 
 bashed and confounded, I fixed my eyes 
 on the ground, and made my escape to the 
 breakfast-table, where I herded among my 
 busy cousins. 
 
 My uncle, that the events of the pre- 
 ceding day might not pass out of our me- 
 mory without a practical moral lesson, took 
 occasion to give Rashleigh and me his se- 
 rious advice to correct our milksop habits, 
 as he termed them, and gradually to enure 
 our brains to bear a gentlemanlike quantity 
 of liquor, without brawls or breaking of 
 heads. He recommended that we should 
 begin piddling with a regular quart of cla- 
 
ROB ROY. <289 
 
 ret per day, which, with the aid of March 
 beer and brandy, made a handsome compe- 
 tence for a beginner in the art of toping. 
 And for our encouragement, he assured us 
 that he had known many a man who had 
 lived to our years without having drank a 
 pint of wine at a sitting, who yet, by falling 
 into honest company, and following hearty 
 example, had afterwards been numbered 
 among the best good fellows of the time, 
 and could carry off their six bottles under 
 their belt quietly and comfortably, without 
 brawling or babbling, and be neither sick 
 nor sorry the next morning. 
 
 Sage as this advice was, and comfortable 
 as was the prospect it held out to me, I pro- 
 fited but little by the exhortation ; partly, 
 perhaps, because, as often as I raised my 
 eyes from the table, I observed Miss Ver- 
 non's looks fixed on me, in which I thought 
 I could read grave compassion blended with 
 regret and displeasure. I began to consider 
 how I should seek a scene of explanation 
 and apology with her also, when she gave 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
290 HOB ROY. 
 
 me to understand she was determined to 
 save me the trouble of soliciting an inter- 
 view. " Cousin Francis," she said, address- 
 ing me by the same title she used to give 
 to the other Osbaidistones, although I had, 
 properly speaking, no title to be called her 
 kinsman, '* I have encountered this morn- 
 ing a difficult passage in the Divina Come- 
 dia of Dante, will you have the goodness to 
 step to the library and give me your assist- 
 ance ? and when you have unearthed for 
 me the meaning of the obscure Florentine, 
 we will join the rest at Birken wood-bank, 
 and see their luck at unearthing the bad- 
 ger." . ' 
 
 I signified, of course, my readiness to ; 
 wait upon her. Rashleigh made an offer i 
 to accompany us. ** I am something better 1 
 skilled," he said, " at tracking the sense of 
 Dante through the metaphors and elisions 
 of his wild and gloomy poem, than at hunt- 
 ing the poor inoffensive hermit yonder out 
 of his cave." 
 
 " Pardon me, Rashleigh," said Miss Ver- 
 
ROB ROY. 291 
 
 non ; ** but as you are to occupy Mr Fran- 
 cis's place in the counting-house, you must 
 surrender to him the charge of your pupil's 
 education at Osbaldistone-Hall. We shall 
 call you in, however, if there is any occa- 
 sion, so pJ'ay do not look so grave upon it. 
 Besides, it is a shame to you not to under- 
 stand field-sports — What will you do should 
 our uncle in Crane- Alley ask you the signs 
 by which you track a badger ?" 
 
 *' Ay, true, Die, — true," said Sir Hilde- 
 brand with a sigh. ** I misdoubt Rashleigh 
 will be found short at the leap when he is 
 put to the trial. An he would ha learn- 
 ed useful knowledge like his brothers, he 
 was bred up where it grew, I wuss ; but 
 French antics, and book-learning, with the 
 new turnips, and the rats, and the Hanove- 
 rians, ha changed the world that I ha known 
 in Old England — But come along with us, 
 Rashie, and carry my hunting staff, man ; 
 thy cousin lacks none of thy company as 
 now, and I w onna ha Die crossed — It's neer 
 be said there was but one woman in Os- 
 4 
 
292 ROB ROY. 
 
 baldistone-Hall, and she died for lack of her 
 will." 
 
 Rashleigh followed his father, as he com- 
 manded, not, however, ere he had whispered 
 to Diana, " I suppose I must in discretion 
 bring the courtier. Ceremony, in my com- 
 pany, and knock when I approach the door 
 of the library ?" 
 
 " No, no, Rashleigh," said Miss Vernon ; • 
 " dismiss from your company the false archi-; 
 mage Dissimulation, and it will better in- 
 sure you free access to our classical consult-^ 
 ations." ' 
 
 So saying, she led the way to the library,' 
 and 1 followed, — like a criminal I was going 
 to say to execution ; but, as I bethink me, 
 I have used the simile once, if not twice 
 before. Without any simile at all then, I 
 followed, with a sense of awkward and con- 
 scious embarrassment, which 1 would have 
 given a great deal to shake off. I thought it 
 a degrading and unworthy feeling to attend 
 one upon such an occasion, having breathed 
 the air of the continent long enough to have 
 
ROB ROY. 293 
 
 imbibed the notion that lightness, gallantry, 
 and something approaching to well-bred 
 self-assurance, should distinguish the gen- 
 tleman whom a fair lady selects for her 
 companion in a tete-a-tete. 
 
 My English feelings, however, were too 
 many for my French education, and I 
 made, I believe, a very pitiful figure, when 
 ]\Jiss Vernon, seating herself majestically in 
 a huge elbow-chair in the library, like a 
 judge about to hear a cause of importance, 
 signed to me to take a chair opposite to 
 her, (which I did, much like the poor fel- 
 low who is going to be tried) and entered 
 upon conversation in a tone of bitter irony. 
 
294 ROB ROY 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Dire was his thought, who first in poison steepM 
 The weapon formed for slaughter — direr his, 
 And worthier of damnation, who instillM 
 The mortal venom in the social cup. 
 To fill the veins with death instead of life. 
 
 Anonymous, 
 
 ** Upon my word, Mr Francis Osbaldis- 
 tone," said Miss Vernon, with the air of one 
 who thought herself fully entitled to assume 
 the privilege of ironical reproach, which 
 she was pleased to exert, " your character 
 improves upon us, sir — I could not have 
 thought that it was in you. — Yesterday 
 might be considered as your assay-piece, to 
 prove yourself entitled to be free of the 
 corporation of Osbaldistone-Hali. But it 
 was a master-piece." 
 
 " I am quite sensible of my ill-breeding, 
 
ilOB ROV. 295 
 
 Miss Vernon, and I can only say for my- 
 self, that I had received some communica- 
 tions by which my spirits were unusually 
 agitated. 1 am conscious 1 was impertinent 
 and absurd." 
 
 " You do yourself great injustice," said 
 the merciless monitor — *• you have con- 
 trived, by what I saw and have since heard, 
 to exhibit in the course of one evening a 
 happy display of all the various masterly 
 qualifications which distinguish your several 
 cousins; — the gentle and generous temper of 
 the benevolent Rashleigh, — the temperance 
 of Percie, — the cool courage of Thorncliff, 
 — John's skill in dog-breaking, — Dickon's 
 aptitude to betting, — all exhibited by the 
 single individual Mr Francis, and that with 
 a selection of time, place, and circumstance, 
 worthy the taste and sagacity of the sapient 
 Wilfred." 
 
 *' Have a little mere}'. Miss Vernon," 
 said I ; for I confess I thouglit the school- 
 ing as severe as the case merited, especially 
 considering from what quarter it came, 
 
St96 ROB ROY. 
 
 " and forgive me if I suggest, as an ex- 
 cuse for follies I am not usually guilty of, 
 the custom of this house and country. I am 
 far from approving it ; but we have Shak- 
 speare's authority for saying, that good wine 
 is a good familiar creature, and that any 
 man living may be overtaken at some time." 
 
 <* Ay, Mr Francis, but he places the pa- 
 negyric and the apology in the mouth of 
 the greatest villain his pencil has drawn. I 
 will not, however, abuse the advantage your 
 quotation has given me, by overwhelming 
 you with the refutation with which the 
 victim Cassio rephes to the tempter lago. 
 I only wish you to know, that there is 
 one person at least sorry to see a youth 
 of talents and expectations sink into the 
 slough in which the inhabitants of this 
 house are nightly wallowing." 
 
 " I have but wet my shoe, I assure you. 
 Miss Vernon, and am too sensible of the 
 filth of the puddle to step farther in." 
 
 " If such be your resolution," she re- 
 plied, " it is a wise one. But I was so 
 
ROB ROY. 297 
 
 much vexed at what I heard, that your con- 
 cerns have pressed before my own. — You be- 
 haved to me yesterday, during dinner, as if 
 something had been told you which lessen- 
 ed or lowered me in your opinion — I beg 
 leave to ask you what it was ?" 
 
 I was stupified — the direct bluntness of 
 the demand was much in the style one gen- 
 tleman uses to another, when requesting 
 explanation of any part of his conduct in 
 a good-humoured yet determined manner, 
 and was totally devoid of the circumlocu- 
 tions, shadings, softenings, and periphrasis, 
 which usually accompany explanations be- 
 twixt persons of different sexes in the higher 
 orders of society. 
 
 I remained completely embarrassed ; for 
 it pressed on my recollection, that Rash- 
 leigh's communications, supposing them to 
 be correct, ought to have rendered Miss 
 Vernon rather an object of my compassion, 
 than of my pettish resentment ; and had 
 they furnished the best apology possible for 
 my own conduct, still I must have had the 
 
 N 2 
 
298 ROB ROY. 
 
 utmost difficulty in detailing what inferred 
 such necessary and natural offence to Miss 
 Vernon's feelings. She observed my hesi. 
 tation, and proceeded in a tone somewhat 
 more peremptory, but still temperate and 
 civil. 
 
 " I hope Mr Osbaldistone does not dis- 
 pute my title to request this explanation. I 
 have no relative who can protect me ; it is, 
 therefore, just that I be permitted to pro- 
 tect myself." 
 
 I endeavoured with hesitation to throw 
 the blame of my rude behaviour upon in- 
 disposition — upon disagreeable letters from 
 London. She suffered me to exhaust my 
 apologies, and fairly to run myself aground, 
 listening all the while with a smile of abso- 
 lute incredulity. 
 
 ** And now, Mr Francis, having gone 
 through your prologue of excuses, with the 
 same bad grace wdth which all prologues 
 are delivered, please to draw the curtain, 
 and shew me that which I desire to see. In 
 a word, let me know what Rashleigh says 
 
ROB ROY. , J299 
 
 of me ; for he is the grand enghiecr and 
 first mover of all the machiner)^ of Osbal- 
 distone-Hall. 
 
 ** But, supposing there was any thing to 
 tell, Miss Vernon, what does he deserve 
 that betrays the secrets of one ally to an- 
 other ? — Raslileigh, you yourself told me, 
 remained your ally, though no longer your 
 friend." 
 
 " I have neither patience for evasion, 
 nor inclination for jesting, on the present 
 subject. Rashleigh cannot — ought not — 
 dare not, hold any language respecting me, 
 Diana Vernon, but what 1 may demand to 
 hear repeated. That there are subjects of 
 secrecy and confidence between us, is most 
 certain ; but to such, his communications 
 to you could have no relation ; and with 
 such, I, as an individual, have no concern." 
 
 I had by this time recovered my presence 
 ofmind, and hastily determined to avoid ma- 
 king any disclosure of what Rashleigh had 
 told me in a sort of confidence. There was 
 something unworthy in retailing private 
 conversation ^ it could, I thought, do no 
 
300 ROB ROY, 
 
 good, and must necessarily give Miss Ver- 
 non great pain. 1 therefore replied, grave- 
 ly, " that nothing but frivolous talk had 
 passed between Mr Ilashleigh Osbaldistone 
 and me on the state of the family at the 
 Hall ; and I protested, that nothing had 
 been said which left a serious impression to 
 her disadvantage. As a gentleman, I said, 
 I could not be more explicit in reporting 
 private conversation." 
 
 She started up with the animation of 
 a Camilla about to advance into battle. 
 " This shall not serve your turn, sir^ — 1 must 
 have another answer from you." Her fea- 
 tures kindled — her brow became flushed— 
 her eye glanced wild-fire as she proceeded. 
 " I demand such an explanation, as a wo- 
 man basely slandered has a right to demand 
 from every man who calls himself a gentle- 
 man — as a creature, motherless, friendless, 
 alone in the world, left to her own guidance 
 and protection, has a right to require from 
 every being having a happier lot, in the 
 name of that God who sent them into the 
 
ROB HOY. 301 
 
 world to enjoy, and Jicr to suffer. You 
 shall not deny me — or," she added, looking 
 solemnly upwards, '* you will rue your de- 
 nial, if there is justice for wrong either on 
 earth or in Heaven." 
 
 I was utterly astonished at her vehe- 
 mence, but felt, thus conjured, that it be- 
 came my duty to lay aside scrupulous de- 
 licacy, and gave her briefly, but distinctly, 
 the heads of the information which Kash- 
 leigh had conveyed to me. 
 
 She sate down and resumed her compo- 
 sure, as soon as I entered upon the subject, 
 and when I stopped to seek for the most 
 delicate turn of expression, she repeatedly 
 interrupted me, with ** Go on — pray, go 
 on ; the first word which occurs to you is 
 the plainest, and must be the best. Do not 
 think of my feelings, but speak as you would 
 to an unconcerned third party." 
 
 Thus urged and encouraged, I stammer- 
 ed through all the account which Rashleigh 
 had given of her early contract to marry 
 an Osbaldistone, and of the uncertainty and 
 
302 ROB ROY. 
 
 difficulty of her choice ; and there I would 
 willingly have paused. But her penetration 
 discovered that there was still something be- 
 hind, and even guessed to what it related. 
 
 ** Well, it was ill-natured of Rashleigh to 
 tell this tale on me. I am like the poor 
 girl, in the Fairy Tale, who was betrothed 
 in her cradle to the Black Bear of Norway, 
 but complained chiefly of being called 
 Bruin's bride by her companions at school. 
 But besides all this, Rashleigh said some- 
 thing of himself with relation to me — Did 
 he not ?" 
 
 ** He certainly hinted, that were it not for 
 the idea of supplanting his brother, he w^ould 
 now, in consequence of his change of pro- 
 fession, be desirous that the word Rashleigh 
 should fill up the blank in the dispensation, 
 instead of the word ThornclifF." 
 
 " Aye? indeed ?" she replied ; ** was he so 
 very condescending ? — Too much honour 
 for his humble hand-maid, Diana Vernon — 
 And she, I suppose, was to be enraptured 
 with joy could such a substitute be effect- 
 ed ?" 
 
ROB ROY. 303 
 
 " To confess the truth, he intimated as 
 much, and even farther insinuated" ■• 
 
 " What ?— Let me hear it all !" she ex- 
 claimed hastily. 
 
 ** That he had broken off your mutual 
 intimacy, lest it should have given rise to an 
 affection by which his destination to the 
 church would not permit him to profit." 
 
 " I am obliged to him for his considera- 
 tion," replied Miss Vernon, every feature 
 of her fine countenance taxed to express 
 the most supreme degree of scorn and con- 
 tempt. She paused a moment, and then 
 said, with her usual composure, '* There is 
 but little I have heard from you which 1 
 did not expect to hear, and which I ought 
 not to have expected ; because, bating one 
 circumstance, it is all very true. But as 
 there are some poisons so active, that a few 
 drops, it is said, will infect a whole foun- 
 tain, so there is one falsehood in Rashleiglf s 
 communication, powerful enough to cor- 
 rupt the whole well in which Truth herself 
 is said to have dwelt. It is the leading and 
 foul falsehood, that, knowing Ilashleigh as 
 
304 ROB ROY. 
 
 I have reason too well to know him, any 
 circumstance on earth could make me think 
 of sharing my lot with him. No," she con- 
 tinued, with a sort of inward shuddering 
 that seemed to express involuntary horror ; 
 ** any lot rather than that — the sot, the 
 gambler, the bully, the jockey, the insen- 
 sate fool, were a thousand times preferable 
 to Rashleigh ; — the convent — the jail — the 
 grave, shall be welcome before them all." 
 
 There was a sad and melancholy cadence 
 in her voice, corresponding with the strange 
 and interesting romance of her situation. 
 So young, so beautiful, so untaught, so 
 much abandoned to herself) and de[)rived 
 of all the support which her sex derives 
 from the countenance and protection of fe- 
 male friends, and even of that degree of 
 defence which arises from the forms with 
 which the sex are approached in civilized 
 life, — it is scarce metaphorical to say, that 
 my heart bled for her. Yet there was an 
 expression of dignity in her contempt of 
 ceremony - of upright feeling in her disdain 
 of talsehood — of firm resolution in the man- 
 
HOB ROY. 305 
 
 ner in which she contemplated the dangers 
 by which she was surrounded, which blen- 
 ded my pity with the wannest admiration. 
 She seemed a princess deserted hy her sub- 
 jects, and deprived of her power, yet still 
 scorning those formal regulations of society 
 which are created for persons of an inferior 
 rank; and,amid her difficulties, relying bold- 
 ly and confidently on the justice of Heaven, 
 and the unshaken constancy of her own 
 mind. 
 
 I offered to express the mingled feelings 
 of sympathy and admiration with which her 
 unfortunate situation and her high spirit 
 combined to impress me, but she imposed 
 silence upon me at once. 
 
 " I told you in jest," she said, " that I 
 disliked compliments — I now tell you in 
 earnest, that I do not ask sympathy, and 
 that I despise consolation. What I have 
 borne I have borne — What I am to bear, I 
 will sustain as I may ; no word of commi- 
 seration can make a burthen feel one fea- 
 ther's weight lighter to the slave who must 
 
306 ROB ROY. 
 
 carry it. There is only one Iiuman being 
 who could have assisted me, and that is he 
 who has rather chosen to add to my em- 
 barrassment Rashleigh Osbaldistone. — 
 
 Yes i the time once was that I might liave 
 learned to love that man — But, great God ! 
 the purpose for which he insinuated himself 
 into the confidence of one already so for- 
 lorn—the undeviating and continued assi- 
 duity with which he pursued that purpose 
 from year to year, without one single mo- 
 mentary pause of remorse or compassion — 
 the purpose to which he would have con- 
 verted into poison the food he administered 
 to my mind — Gracious Providence ! what 
 should I have been in this world and the 
 next, in body and soul, had I fallen under 
 the arts of this accomplished villain !" 
 
 I w-as so much struck with the scene of 
 perfidious treachery which these words dis- 
 closed, that I rose from my chair, hardly 
 knowing what I did, laid my hand on the 
 hilt of my sword, and was about to leave 
 the apartment in search of him on whom I 
 
ROB ROY. 307 
 
 might discharge my just indignation. Al- 
 most breathless, and with eyes and looks in 
 which scorn and indignation had given way 
 to the most lively alarm, ]\Iiss Vernon threw 
 herself between me and the door of the 
 apartment. 
 
 " Stay," she said,—" stay ; however just 
 your resentment, you do not know half the 
 secrets of this fearlul prison-house." She 
 then glanced her eyes anxiously round the 
 room, and sunk her voice almost to a whis- 
 per — '* He bears a charmed life ; you can- 
 not assail him without endangering other 
 lives, and wider destruction. Had it been 
 otherwise, in some hour of justice he had 
 hardly been safe even from this weak hand. 
 I told you," she said, motioning me back to 
 my seat, ** that I needed no comforter — I 
 now tell you, I need no avenger." 
 
 I resumed my seat, mechanically musing 
 on what she said, and recollecting also what 
 had escaped me in my first glow of resent- 
 ment, that I had no title whatever to con- 
 stitute myself Miss Vernon's champion. She 
 
308 ROB ROY, 
 
 paused to let her own emotions and mine 
 subside, and then addressed me with more 
 composure. 
 
 *' 1 have already said, that there is a mys- 
 tery connected with Rashleigh, of a dan- 
 gerous and fatal nature. Villain as he is, 
 and as he knows he stands convicted in my 
 eyes, I cannot — dare not, openly break with 
 or defy him. You also, Mr Osbaldistone, 
 must bear with him with patience, foil his 
 artifices by opposing to them prudence, not 
 violence, and, above all, you must avoid such 
 scenes as that of last night, which cannot 
 but give him perilous advantages over you. 
 This caution I designed to give you, and it 
 was the object with which I desired this in- 
 terview ; but I have extended my confi- 
 dence farther than I designed." 
 
 1 assured her it was not misplaced. 
 
 " I do not believe that it is," she replied. 
 '* You have that in your face and manners 
 which authorizes trust. Let us continue to 
 be friends. You need not fear," she said, 
 laughing, while she blushed a little, yet 
 
ROB ROY. 309 
 
 Speaking with a free and unembarrassed 
 voice, '* that friendship with us should 
 prove only a specious name, as the poet 
 sayi, for an<^ther feeling. I belong, in 
 habits of thinking and acting, rather to your 
 sex, with which I have always been brought 
 up, than to my own. Besides, the fatal 
 veil was wrapt round me in my cradle ; for 
 you may easily believe I have never thought 
 of the detestable condition under which I 
 may remove it. The time," she added, " for 
 expressing my final determination is not ar- 
 rived, and I would fain have the freedom 
 of wild heath and open air with the other 
 commoners of nature, as long as I can be. 
 permitted to enjoy them. And now that 
 the passage in Dante is made so clear, pray, 
 go and see what is become of the badger- 
 baiters — My head aches so much that I 
 cannot join the party." 
 
 I left the library, but not to join the hunt- 
 ers. I felt that a solitary walk was neces- 
 sary to compose my spirits, before I again 
 trusted myself in Kashleigh's company, 
 
SIO ROB ROY. 
 
 whose depth of calculating villainy had been 
 so strikingly exposed to me. In Dubourg's 
 family, (as he was of the reformed persua- 
 sion), I had heard many a tale of Romish 
 priests, w^ho gratified, at the expense of 
 friendship, hospitality, and the most sacred 
 ties of social lite, those passions, the blame- 
 less indulgence of which is denied by the 
 rules of their order. But the deliberate 
 system of undertaking the education of a 
 deserted orphan of noble birth, and so in- 
 timately allied to his own family, with the 
 perfidious purpose of ultimately seducing 
 her, detailed as it was by the intended vic- 
 tim with all the glovv of virtuous resent- 
 ment, seemed more atrocious to me than 
 the worst of the tales I had heard at Bour- 
 deaux, and I felt it would be extremely 
 difficult for me to meet Rashleigh, and yet 
 to suppress the abhorrence with which he 
 impressed me. Yet this was absolutely ne- 
 cessary, not only on account of the myste- 
 rious charge which Diana had given me, 
 but because I had, in reality, no ostensible 
 ground for quarrelling with him. 
 
HOB ROY. 311 
 
 I therefore resolved, as far as possible, to 
 meet Rashleigh's dissimulation with equal 
 caution on my part during our resitlence in 
 the same family ; and when he should de- 
 part for London, I resolved to give Owen, 
 at least, such a hint of his character as 
 might keep him on his guard over my fa- 
 ther's interests. Avarice or ambition, I 
 thought, might have a great, or greater 
 charms for a mind constituted like Rash- 
 leigh's, than unlawful pleasure ; the energy 
 of his character, and his power of assuming 
 all seeming good qualities, were likely to 
 procure him a high degree of confidence, 
 and it was not to be hoped, that either 
 good faith or gratitude would prevent him 
 from abusing it. The task was somewhat 
 difficult, especially in my circumstances, 
 since the caution which I threw out might 
 be imputed to jealousy of my rival, or ra- 
 ther my successor in my father's favour. 
 Yet I thought it absolutely necessary to 
 frame such a letter, leaving it to Owen, 
 who, in his own line, was wary, prudent, 
 
312 ROB ROY, 
 
 and circumspect, to make the necessary use 
 of his knowledge of R'ashleigh's true cha- 
 racter. Such a letter, therefore, I indited, 
 and dispatched to the post-house by the 
 first opportunity. 
 
 At my rpeeting ;with ;R.ashleigh, he, as 
 well as I5 appeared to have taken up distant 
 ground, and to be dispaaed to avoid all pre- 
 text for colhsioov H^ was: probably con- 
 scious that Miss Vernon's communications 
 had been unfayourable to him, though he 
 could not know that they extended to dis- 
 covering his meditated villainy towards her. 
 Our intercourse, therefore, was reserved on 
 both sides, and turned on subjects of little 
 interest. Indeed, his stay at Osbaldistonc- 
 Hall did not exceed a few days after this 
 period, during which I only remarked two 
 circumstances respecting him. The first 
 was, the rapid and almost intuitive manner 
 in which his powerful and active mind 
 vseized upon and arranged the elementary 
 principles necessary in his new profession, 
 which he now studied hard, and occasion- 
 
 8 
 
ROB ROY. 313 
 
 ally made parade of his progress, as if to 
 shew me how light it was for him to lift the 
 burthen which I had flung down from very 
 weariness and inability to carry it. The other 
 remarkable circumstance was, that, notwith- 
 standing the injuries with which Miss Vernon 
 charged Rashleigh, they had several private 
 interviews together of considerable length, 
 although their bearing towards each other 
 in public did not seem more cordial than 
 usual. 
 
 When the day of Rashleigh's departure 
 arrived, his father bade him farewell with 
 indifference ; his brothers, with the ill-con- 
 [?ealed glee of school-boys, who see their 
 :askmaster depart for a season, and feel a 
 oy which they dare not express ; and I my- 
 ielf with cold politeness. When he ap- 
 )roached Miss Vernon, and would have sa- 
 luted her, she drew back with a look of 
 laughty disdain ; but said, as she extended 
 ler hand to him, " Farewell, Rashleigh j 
 jod reward you for the good you have 
 
 VOL, I, o 
 
^IJj ROB ROY. 
 
 (lone, and forgive you for the evil you have 
 meditated." 
 
 '* Amen, my fair cousin," he replied with 
 an air of sanctity, which belonged, I thought, 
 to the seminary of Saint Omers ; '* happy is 
 he whose good intentions have borne fruit 
 in deeds, and whose evil thoughts have pe- 
 rished in the blossom," 
 
 These were his parting words. ** Accom- ] 
 plished hypocrite !" said Miss Vernon to me, i 
 as the door closed behind him — " how near-. 
 ]y can what we most despise and hate ap- 
 proach in outward manner to that which wa 
 most venerate !" 
 
 I had written to my father by Rashleigh, 
 and also a few lines to Owen, besides the 
 confidential letter which I have already 
 mentioned, and which I thought it mor^ 
 proper and prudent to dispatch by anothei 
 conveyance. In these epistles, it woulci 
 liave been natural for me to have pointecj 
 out to my father and my friend, that I waij 
 at present in a situation where I could irai 
 
 A 
 
ROB ROY. 315 
 
 prove myself in no respect, unless in the 
 mysteries of hunting and hawking ; and 
 where I was not unUkely to forget, in the 
 company of rude grooms and horse-boys, 
 any useful knowledge or elegant accom- 
 plishments which I had hitherto acquired. 
 It would also have been natural that I should 
 have expressed the disgust and taedium 
 which I was likely to feel among beings, 
 whose whole souls were centered in field- 
 sports or more degrading pastimes — that I 
 should have complained of the habitual in- 
 temperance of the family in which I was a 
 guest, and the difficulty and almost resent- 
 ment with which my uncle Sir Hildebrand 
 received any apology for deserting the bottle. 
 This last, indeed, was a topic on which my 
 father, himself a man of severe temperance, 
 was likely to be easily alarmed, and to have 
 touched upon this spring would to a cer- 
 tainty have opened the doors of my prison- 
 house, and would either have been the 
 means of abridging my exile, or at least 
 
316 ROB ROY. 
 
 would have procured me a change of resi- 
 dence during my rustication. 
 
 I say, my dear Tresham, that, consider- 
 ing how very unpleasant a prolonged resi- 
 dence at Osbaldistone Hall must have been 
 to a young man at my age, and with my 
 habits, it might have seemed very natural 
 that I should have pointed out all these dis- 
 advantages to my father, in order to obtain 
 his consent for leaving my uncle's mansion. 
 Nothing, however, is more certain, than 
 that I did not say a single word to this pur- 
 pose in my letters to my father and Owen, 
 If Osbaldistone- Hall had been Athens in 
 all its pristine glory of learning, and inha- 
 bited by sages, heroes, and poets, I could 
 not have expressed less inclination to leave 
 it. 
 
 If thou hast any of the salt of youth 
 left in thee, Tresham, thou wilt be at no loss 
 to account for my silence on a topic seem- 
 ingly so obvious. Miss Vernon's extreme 
 beauty, of which she herself seemed so little 
 
ROB Roy. 317 
 
 conscious, — her romantic and mysterious 
 situation, — the evils to which she was ex- 
 posed,— the courage with which she seemed 
 to face them, — her manners, more frank than 
 belonged to her sex, yet, as it seemed to me, 
 exceeding in frankness only from the daunt- 
 less consciousness of her innocence, — above 
 all, the obvious and flattering distinction 
 which she made in my favour over all other 
 persons, were at once calculated to interest 
 my best feelings, to excite my curiosity, 
 awaken my imagination, and gratify my va- 
 nity. I dared not indeed confess to myself 
 the depth of the interest with which Miss 
 Vernon inspired me, or the large share 
 which she occupied in my thoughts. We 
 read together, walked together, rode to- 
 gether, and sate together. The studies 
 which she had broken off upon her quarrel 
 with Rashleigh, she now resumed under the 
 auspices of a tutor whose views were more 
 sincere, though his capacity was far more 
 limited. 
 
 In truth, I was by no means quahfied to 
 
 02 
 
318 ROB ROY. 
 
 assist her in the prosecution of several pro- 
 found studies which she had commenced 
 with Eashleigh, and which appeared to 
 me more fitted for a churchman than for a 
 beautiful female. Neither can I conceive 
 with what view he should have engaged 
 Diana in the gloomy maze of the casuistry 
 w^hich schoolmen called philosophy, or in 
 the equally abstruse, though more certain 
 sciences of mathematics and astronomy; 
 unless it were to break down and confound 
 in her mind the difference and distinction 
 between the sexes, and to habituate her to 
 trains of subtle reasoning, by which he 
 might at his own time invest that which 
 was wrong with the colour of that which 
 is right. It was in the same spirit, though , 
 in the latter case the evil purpose was more ^ 
 obvious, that the lessons of Rashleigh had ' 
 encouraged Miss Vernon in setting at 
 nought and despising the forms and cere- 
 monial limits which are drawn round fe- 
 males in modern society. It is true she 
 was sequestered from all female company, 
 
 10 
 
EOB ROY. 319 
 
 and could not learn the usual rules of de- 
 corum, either from example or precept. 
 Yet such was her innate modesty, and accu- 
 rate sense of what was right and wrong, that 
 she would not of herself have adopted the 
 bold uncompromising manner which struck 
 me with so much surprise on our first ac- 
 quaintance, had she not been led to con- 
 ceive, that a contempt of ceremony indica- 
 ted at once superiority of understanding, 
 and the confidence of conscious innocence. 
 Her wily instructor had, no doubt, his own 
 views in levelling those outworks which 
 reserve and caution erect around virtue. 
 But for these, and for his other crimes, he 
 has long since answered at a higher tribu- 
 nal. 
 
 Besides the progress which Miss Vernon, 
 whose powerful mind readily adopted every 
 means of information offered to it, had made 
 in more abstract science, I found her no 
 contemptible linguist, and well acquainted 
 both with ancient and modern literature. 
 
320 ROB ROY. 
 
 Were it not that strong talents will often 
 go farthest when they seem to have least 
 assistance, it would be almost incredible to 
 tell the rapidity of Miss Vernon's progress 
 in knowledge ; and it was still more extra- 
 ordinary, when her stock of mental acqui- 
 sitions from books was compared with her 
 total ignorance of actual life. It seemed as 
 if she saw and knew every thing, except 
 what passed in the world around her, and I 
 beheve it was this very ignorance and sim- 
 plicity of thinking upon ordinary subjects, 
 so strikingly contrasted with her fund of 
 general knowledge and information, which 
 rendered her conversation so irresistibly 
 fascinating, and rivetted the attention to 
 whatever she said or did 5 since it was abso- 
 lutely impossible to anticipate whether her 
 next word or action was to display the most 
 acute perception, or the most profound sim- 
 plicity. The degree of danger which ne- 
 cessarily attended a youth of my age and 
 keen feelings from remaining in close and 
 
ROB ROY. 32!l 
 
 constant intimacy with an object so ami- 
 able, and so peculiarly interesting, all who 
 remember their own sentiments at my age 
 may easily estimate. 
 
 END OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 Edinburgh : 
 *rinted by James Ballantyne & C«/. 
 
 
m