CHAPTER I.

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Transcriber's note:

[oe] represents the oe-ligature.

THE PIRATE.

Nothing in him----

But doth suffer a sea-change.

_Tempest._

Bibliophile Edition

This Edition of the Works of Sir Walter Scott,

Bart, is limited to One Thousand Numbered and

Signed Sets, of which this is

Number ...

University Library Association

[Illustration]

Bibliophile Edition

The Waverley Novels

With New Introductions, Notes and Glossaries by Andrew Lang

THE PIRATE

by

SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart.

Illustrated

[Illustration]

University Library Association

Philadelphia

Copyright, 1893

By Estes & Lauriat

Andrew Lang Edition.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE PIRATE.

VOLUME I.

PAGE

MORDAUNT IN YELLOWLEY'S COTTAGE. _Frontispiece_

THE SWORD DANCE 234

VOLUME II.

MINNA ON THE CLIFF 103

THE PIRATE'S COUNCIL 208

MINNA TAKING THE PISTOL 250

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO THE PIRATE.

The circumstances in which "The Pirate" was composed have for the Editor

a peculiar interest. He has many times scribbled at the old bureau in

Chiefswood whereon Sir Walter worked at his novel, and sat in summer

weather beneath the great tree on the lawn where Erskine used to read

the fresh chapters to Lockhart and his wife, while the burn murmured by

from the Rhymer's Glen. So little altered is the cottage of Chiefswood

by the addition of a gabled wing in the same red stone as the older

portion, so charmed a quiet has the place, in the shelter of Eildon

Hill, that there one can readily beget the golden time again, and think

oneself back into the day when Mustard and Spice, running down the shady

glen, might herald the coming of the Sheriff himself. Happy hours and

gone: like that summer of 1821, whereof Lockhart speaks with an emotion

the more touching because it is so rare,--

the first of several seasons, which will ever dwell on my memory

as the happiest of my life. We were near enough Abbotsford to

partake as often as we liked of its brilliant society; yet could

do so without being exposed to the worry and exhaustion of spirit

which the daily reception of new visitors entailed upon all the

society except Sir Walter himself. But, in truth, even he was not

always proof against the annoyances connected with such a style of

open-house-keeping. Even his temper sank sometimes under the

solemn applause of learned dulness, the vapid raptures of painted

and periwigged dowagers the horse-leech avidity with which

underbred foreigners urged their questions, and the pompous

simpers of condescending magnates. When sore beset in this way, he

would every now and then discover that he had some very particular

business to attend to on an outlying part of his estate, and,

craving the indulgence of his guests overnight, appear at the

cabin in the glen before its inhabitants were astir in the

morning. The clatter of Sibyl Grey's hoofs, the yelping of Mustard

and Spice, and his own joyous shout of _reveillée_ under our

window, were the signal that he had burst his bonds, and meant for

that day to take his ease in his inn.... After breakfast he would

take possession of a dressing-room upstairs, and write a chapter

of "The Pirate"; and then, having made up and dispatched his

parcel for Mr. Ballantyne, away to join Purdie where the foresters

were at work....

The constant and eager delight with which Erskine watched the

progress of the tale has left a deep impression on my memory: and

indeed I heard so many of its chapters first read from the MS. by

him, that I can never open the book now without thinking I hear

his voice. Sir Walter used to give him at breakfast the pages he

had written that morning, and very commonly, while he was again at

work in his study, Erskine would walk over to Chiefswood, that he

might have the pleasure of reading them aloud to my wife and me

under our favourite tree.[1]

"The tree is living yet!" This long quotation from a book but too little

read in general may be excused for its interest, as bearing on the

composition of "The Pirate," in the early autumn of 1821. In "The

Pirate" Scott fell back on his recollections of the Orcades, as seen by

him in a tour with the Commissioners of Light Houses, in August 1814,

immediately after the publication of "Waverley." They were accompanied

by Mr. Stevenson, the celebrated engineer, "a most gentlemanlike and

modest man, and well known by his scientific skill."[2] It is understood

that Mr. Stevenson also kept a diary, and that it is to be published by

the care of his distinguished grandson, Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson,

author of "Kidnapped," "The Master of Ballantrae," and other novels in

which Scott would have recognised a not alien genius.

Sir Walter's Diary, read in company with "The Pirate," offers a most

curious study of his art in composition. It may be said that he scarcely

noted a natural feature, a monument, a custom, a superstition, or a

legend in Zetland and Orkney which he did not weave into the magic web

of his romance. In the Diary all those matters appear as very ordinary;

in "The Pirate" they are transfigured in the light of fancy. History

gives Scott the career of Gow and his betrothal to an island lady:

observation gives him a few headlands, Picts' houses, ruined towers, and

old stone monuments, and his characters gather about these, in rhythmic

array, like the dancers in the sword-dance. We may conceive that

Cleveland, like Gow, was originally meant to die, and that Minna, like

Margaret in the ballad of Clerk Saunders, was to recover her troth from

the hand of her dead lover. But, if Scott intended this, he was

good-natured, and relented.

Taking the incidents in the Diary in company with the novel, we find, in

the very first page of "The Pirate," mention of the roost, or rost, of

Sumburgh, the running current of tidal water, which he hated so, because

it made him so sea-sick. "All the landsmen sicker than sick, and our

Viceroy, Stevenson, qualmish. It is proposed to have a light on Sumburgh

Head. Fitful Head is higher, but is to the west, from which quarter few

vessels come." As for Sumburgh Head, Scott climbed it, rolled down a

rock from the summit, and found it "a fine situation to compose an ode

to the Genius of Sumburgh Head, or an Elegy upon a Cormorant--or to have

written or spoken madness of any kind in prose or poetry. But I gave

vent to my excited feelings in a more simple way, and, sitting gently

down on the steep green slope which led to the beach, I e'en slid down a

few hundred feet, and found the exercise quite an adequate vent to my

enthusiasm."

Sir Walter was certainly not what he found Mrs. Hemans, "too poetical."

In the first chapter, his Giffords, Scotts (of Scotstarvet, the

Fifeshire house, not of the Border clan), and Mouats are the very gentry

who entertained him on his tour. His "plantie cruives," in the novel,

had been noted in the Diary (Lockhart, iv. 193). "Pate Stewart," the

oppressive Earl, is chronicled at length in "the Diary." "His huge tower

remains wild and desolate--its chambers filled with sand, and its rifted

walls and dismantled battlements giving unrestrained access to the

roaring sea-blast." So Scott wrote in his last review for the

"Quarterly," a criticism of Pitcairn's "Scotch Criminal Trials" (1831).

The Trows, or Drows, the fairy dwarfs he studied on the spot, and

connects the name with Dwerg, though _Trolls_ seem rather to be their

spiritual and linguistic ancestors. The affair of the clergyman who was

taken for a Pecht, or Pict, actually occurred during the tour, and Mr.

Stevenson, who had met the poor Pecht before, was able to clear his

character.[3] In the same place the Kraken is mentioned: he had been

visible for nearly a fortnight, but no sailor dared go near him.

He lay in the offing a fortnight or more,

But the devil a Zetlander put from the shore.

If your Grace thinks I'm writing the thing that is not,

You may ask at a namesake of ours, Mr. Scott,

Sir Walter wrote to the Duke of Buccleugh. He paid a visit to an old

lady, who, like Norna, and Æolus in the Odyssey, kept the winds in a

bag, and could sell a fair breeze. "She was a miserable figure, upwards

of ninety, she told me, and dried up like a mummy. A sort of

clay-coloured cloak, folded over her head, corresponded in colour to her

corpse-like complexion. Fine light-blue eyes, and nose and chin that

almost met, and a ghastly expression of cunning gave her quite the

effect of Hecate. She told us she remembered _Gow the Pirate_, betrothed

to a Miss Gordon,"--so here are the germs of Norna, Cleveland, and

Minna, all sown in good ground, to bear fruit in seven years

(1814-1821). Triptolemus Yellowley is entirely derived from the Diary,

and is an anachronism. The Lowland Scots factors and ploughs were only

coming in while Scott was in the isles. He himself saw the absurd little

mills (vol. i. ch. xi.), and the one stilted plough which needed two

women to open the furrows, a feebler plough than the Virgilian specimens

which one still remarks in Tuscany. "When this precious machine was in

motion, it was dragged by four little bullocks, yoked abreast, and as

many ponies harnessed, or rather strung, to the plough by ropes and

thongs of raw hide.... An antiquary might be of opinion that this was

the very model of the original plough invented by Triptolemus," son of

the Eleusinian king, who sheltered Demeter in her wanderings. The

sword-dance was not danced for Scott's entertainment, but he heard of

the Pupa dancers, and got a copy of the accompanying chant, and was

presented with examples of the flint and bronze Celts which Norna

treasured. All over the world, as in Zetland, they were regarded as

"thunder stones." (Diary; Lockhart, iv. 220.) The bridal of Norna, by

clasping of hands through Odin's stone ring, was still practised as a

form of betrothal. (Lockhart, iv. 252.) Some island people were

despised, as by Magnus Troil, as "poor sneaks" who ate limpets, "the

last of human meannesses." The "wells," or smooth wave-currents, were

also noted, and the _Garland_ of the whalers often alluded to in the

tale. The Stones of Stennis were visited, and the Dwarfie Stone of Hoy,

where Norna, like some Eskimo Angekok, met her familiar demon. Scott

held that the stone "probably was meant as the temple of some northern

edition of the _dii Manes_. They conceive that the dwarf may be seen

sometimes sitting at the door of his abode, but he vanishes on a nearer

approach." The dwelling of Norna, a Pict's house, with an overhanging

story, "shaped like a dice-box," is the ancient Castle of Mousa.[4] The

strange incantation of Norna, the dropping of molten lead into water, is

also described. Usually the lead was poured through the wards of a key.

In affections of the heart, like Minna's, a triangular stone, probably a

neolithic arrow-head, was usually employed as an amulet. (Lockhart, iv.

208.) Even the story of the pirate's insolent answer to the Provost is

adapted from a recent occurrence. Two whalers were accused of stealing a

sheep. The first denied the charge, but said he had seen the animal

carried off by "a fellow with a red nose and a black wig. Don't you

think he was like his honour, Tom?" "By God, Jack, I believe it was the

very man." (Diary; Lockhart, iv. 222; "The Pirate," vol. ii. ch. xiv.)

The goldless Northern Ophir was also visited--in brief, Scott scarcely

made a remark on his tour which he did not manage to transmute into the

rare metal of his romance. It is no wonder that the Orcadians at once

detected his authorship. A trifling anecdote of the cruise has recently

been published. Scott presented a lady in the isles with a piano, which,

it seems, is still capable of producing a melancholy jingling tune.[5]

Lockhart says, as to the reception of "The Pirate" (Dec. 1821): "The

wild freshness of the atmosphere of this splendid romance, the beautiful

contrast of Minna and Brenda, and the exquisitely drawn character of

Captain Cleveland, found the reception which they deserved." "The wild

freshness of the atmosphere" is indeed magically transfused, and

breathes across the pages as it blows over the Fitful Head, the

skerries, the desolate moors, the plain of the Standing Stones of

Stennis. The air is keen and salt and fragrant of the sea. Yet Sydney

Smith was greatly disappointed. "I am afraid this novel will depend upon

the former reputation of the author, and will add nothing to it. It may

sell, and another may half sell, but that is all, unless he comes out

with something vigorous, and redeems himself. I do not blame him for

writing himself out, if he knows he is doing so, and has done his

_best_, and his _all_. If the native land of Scotland will supply no

more scenes and characters, for he is always best in Scotland, though he

was very good in England the (time) he was there; but pray, wherever the

scene is laid, no more Meg Merrilies and Dominie Sampsons--very good the

first and second times, but now quite worn out, and always recurring."

("Archibald Constable," iii. 69.)

It was Smith's grammar that gave out, and produced no apodosis to his

phrase. Scott could not write himself out, before his brain was affected

by disease. Had his age been miraculously prolonged, with health, it

could never be said that "all the stories have been told," and he would

have delighted mankind unceasingly.

Scott himself was a little nettled by the criticisms of Norna as a

replica of Meg Merrilies. She is, indeed, "something distinct from the

Dumfriesshire gipsy"--in truth, she rather resembles the Ulrica of

"Ivanhoe." Like her, she is haunted by the memory of an awful crime, an

insane version of a mere accident; like her, she is a votaress of the

dead gods of the older world, Thor and Odin, and the spirits of the

tempest. Scott's imagination lived so much in the past that the ancient

creeds never ceased to allure him: like Heine, he felt the fascination

of the banished deities, not of Greece, but of the North. Thus Norna,

crazed by her terrible mischance, dwells among them, worships the Red

Beard, as outlying descendants of the Aztecs yet retain some faith in

their old monstrous Pantheon. Even Minna keeps, in her girlish

enthusiasm, some touch of Freydis in the saga of Eric the Red: for her

the old gods and the old years are not wholly exiled and impotent. All

this is most characteristic of the antiquary and the poet in Scott, who

lingers fondly over what has been, and stirs the last faint embers of

fallen fires. It is of a piece with the harmless Jacobitism of his

festivals, when they sang

Here's to the King, boys!

Ye ken wha I mean, boys.

In the singularly feeble and provincial vulgarities which Borrow

launches, in the appendix to "Lavengro," against the memory of Scott,

the charge of reviving Catholicism is the most bitter. That rowdy

evangelist might as well have charged Scott with a desire to restore the

worship of Odin, and to sacrifice human victims on the stone altar of

Stennis. He saw in Orkney the ruined fanes of the Norse deities, as at

Melrose of the Virgin, and his loyal heart could feel for all that was

old and lost, for all into which men had put their hearts and faiths,

had made, and had unmade, in the secular quest for the divine. Like a

later poet, he might have said:--

Not as their friend or child I speak,

But as on some far Northern strand,

Thinking of his own gods, a Greek

In pity and mournful awe might stand

Beside some fallen Runic stone,

For both were gods, and both are gone.

And surely no creed is more savage, cruel, and worthy of death than

Borrow's belief in a God who "knew where to strike," and deliberately

struck Scott by inducing Robinson to speculate in hops, and so bring

down his Edinburgh associate, Constable, and with him Sir Walter! Such

was the religion which Borrow expressed in the style of a writer in a

fourth-rate country newspaper. We might prefer the frank Heathenism of

the Red Beard to the religion of the author of "The Bible in Spain."

There is no denying that Scott had in his imagination a certain mould of

romance, into which his ideas, when he wrote most naturally, and most

for his own pleasure, were apt to run. It is one of the charms of "The

Pirate" that here he is manifestly writing for his own pleasure, with a

certain boyish eagerness. Had we but the plot of one of the tales which

he told, as a lad, to his friend Irving, we might find that it turned on

a romantic mystery, a clue in the hands of some witch or wise woman, of

some one who was always appearing in the nick of time, was always round

the corner when anything was to be heard. This is a standing

characteristic of the tales: now it is Edie Ochiltree, now

Flibbertigibbet, now Meg Merrilies, now Norna, who holds the thread of

the plot, but these characters are all well differentiated. Again, he

had types, especially the pedantic type, which attracted him, but they

vary as much as Yellowley and Dugald Dalgetty, the Antiquary, and

Dominie Sampson. Yellowley is rather more repressed than some of Scott's

bores; but then he is not the only bore, for Claud Halcro, with all his

merits, is a professed proser. Swift had exactly described the

character, the episodical narrator, in a passage parallel to one in

Theophrastus. In writing to Morritt, Scott says (November 1818): "I

sympathise with you for the _dole_ you are _dreeing_ under the

inflictions of your honest proser. Of all the boring machines ever

devised, your regular and determined story-teller is the most peremptory

and powerful in his operations."

"With what perfect placidity he submitted to be bored even by bores of

the first water!" says Lockhart. The species is one which we all have

many opportunities of studying, but it may be admitted that Scott

produced his studies of bores with a certain complacency. Yet they are

all different bores, and the gay, kind _scald_ Halcro is very unlike

Master Mumblasen or Dominie Sampson.

For a hero Mordaunt may be called almost sprightly and individual. His

mysterious father occasionally suggests the influence of Byron,

occasionally of Mrs. Radcliffe. The Udaller is as individual and genial

as Dandie Dinmont himself; or, again, he is the Cedric of Thule, though

much more sympathetic than Cedric to most readers. His affection for his

daughters is characteristic and deserved. Many a pair of sisters, blonde

and brune, have we met in fiction since Minna and Brenda, but none have

been their peers, and, like Mordaunt in early years, we know not to

which of them our hearts are given. They are "L'Allegro" and "Il

Penseroso" of the North, and it is probable that all men would fall in

love with Minna if they had the chance, and marry Brenda, if they could.

Minna is, indeed, the ideal youth of poetry, and Brenda of the practical

life. The innocent illusions of Minna, her love of all that is old, her

championship of the forlorn cause, her beauty, her tenderness, her

truth, her passionate waywardness of sorrow, make her one of Scott's

most original and delightful heroines. She believes and trembles not,

like Bertram in "Rokeby." Brenda trembles, but does not believe in

Norna's magic, and in the spirits of ancient saga. As for Cleveland,

Scott managed to avoid Byron's Lara-like pirates, and produced a

freebooter as sympathetic as any _hostis humani generis_ can be, while

"Frederick Altamont" (Thackeray borrowed the name for his romantic

crossing-sweeper) has a place among the Marischals and Bucklaws of

romance. Scott's minute studies in Dryden come to the aid of his local

observations, and so, out of not very promising materials, and out of

the contrast of Lowland Scot and Orcadian, the romance is spun. Probably

the "psychological analysis" which most interested the author is the

double consciousness of Norna, the occasional intrusions of the rational

self on her dreams of supernatural powers. That double consciousness,

indeed, exists in all of us: occasionally the self in which we believe

has a vision of the real underlying self, and shudders from the sight,

like the pair "who met themselves" in the celebrated drawing.

"The Pirate" can scarcely be placed in the front rank of Scott's novels,

but it has a high and peculiar place in the second, and probably will

always be among the special favourites of those who, being young, are

fortunate enough not to be critical.

Scott's novels at this time came forth so frequently that the lumbering

"Quarterlies" toiled after them in vain. They adopted the plan of

reviewing them in batches, and the "Quarterly" may be said to have

omitted "The Pirate" altogether. About this time Gifford began to find

that the person who spoke of a "dark dialect of Anglified Erse" was not

a competent critic, and Mr. Senior noticed several of the tales in a

more judicious manner. As to "The Pirate," the "Edinburgh Review"

found "the character and story of Mertoun at once commonplace and

extravagant." Cleveland disappoints "by turning out so much better

than we had expected, and yet substantially so ill." "Nothing can

be more beautiful than the description of the sisters." "Norna is

a new incarnation of Meg Merrilies, and palpably the same in the

spirit ... but far above the rank of a mere imitated or borrowed

character." "The work, on the whole, opens up a new world to our

curiosity, and affords another proof of the extreme pliability,

as well as vigour, of the author's genius."

ANDREW LANG.

_August 1893._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Lockhart, vi. 388-393. Erskine died before Scott, slain by a silly

piece of gossip, and Mr. Skene says: "I never saw Sir Walter so much

affected by any event, and at the funeral, which he attended, he was

quite unable to suppress his feelings, but wept like a child." His

correspondence with Scott fell into the hands of a lady, who, seeing

that it revealed the secret of Scott's authorship, most unfortunately

burned all the letters. (Journal, i. 416.)

[2] Scott's Diary, July 29, 1814. Lockhart, vi. 183.

[3] See Author's Note No. I.

[4] Diary; Lockhart, iv. 223.

[5] "Atalanta," December 1892.

INTRODUCTION TO THE PIRATE.

"Quoth he, there was a ship."

This brief preface may begin like the tale of the Ancient Mariner, since

it was on shipboard that the author acquired the very moderate degree of

local knowledge and information, both of people and scenery, which he

has endeavoured to embody in the romance of the Pirate.

In the summer and autumn of 1814, the author was invited to join a party

of Commissioners for the Northern Light-House Service, who proposed

making a voyage round the coast of Scotland, and through its various

groups of islands, chiefly for the purpose of seeing the condition of

the many lighthouses under their direction,--edifices so important,

whether regarding them as benevolent or political institutions. Among

the commissioners who manage this important public concern, the sheriff

of each county of Scotland which borders on the sea, holds ex-officio a

place at the Board. These gentlemen act in every respect gratuitously,

but have the use of an armed yacht, well found and fitted up, when they

choose to visit the lighthouses. An excellent engineer, Mr. Robert

Stevenson, is attached to the Board, to afford the benefit of his

professional advice. The author accompanied this expedition as a guest;

for Selkirkshire, though it calls him Sheriff, has not, like the kingdom

of Bohemia in Corporal Trim's story, a seaport in its circuit, nor its

magistrate, of course, any place at the Board of Commissioners,--a

circumstance of little consequence where all were old and intimate

friends, bred to the same profession, and disposed to accommodate each

other in every possible manner.

The nature of the important business which was the principal purpose of

the voyage, was connected with the amusement of visiting the leading

objects of a traveller's curiosity; for the wild cape, or formidable

shelve, which requires to be marked out by a lighthouse, is generally at

no great distance from the most magnificent scenery of rocks, caves, and

billows. Our time, too, was at our own disposal, and, as most of us were

freshwater sailors, we could at any time make a fair wind out of a foul

one, and run before the gale in quest of some object of curiosity which

lay under our lee.

With these purposes of public utility and some personal amusement in

view, we left the port of Leith on the 26th July, 1814, ran along the

east coast of Scotland, viewing its different curiosities, stood over to

Zetland and Orkney, where we were some time detained by the wonders of a

country which displayed so much that was new to us; and having seen what

was curious in the Ultima Thule of the ancients, where the sun hardly

thought it worth while to go to bed, since his rising was at this season

so early, we doubled the extreme northern termination of Scotland, and

took a rapid survey of the Hebrides, where we found many kind friends.

There, that our little expedition might not want the dignity of danger,

we were favoured with a distant glimpse of what was said to be an

American cruiser, and had opportunity to consider what a pretty figure

we should have made had the voyage ended in our being carried captive

to the United States. After visiting the romantic shores of Morven, and

the vicinity of Oban, we made a run to the coast of Ireland, and visited

the Giant's Causeway, that we might compare it with Staffa, which we had

surveyed in our course. At length, about the middle of September, we

ended our voyage in the Clyde, at the port of Greenock.

And thus terminated our pleasant tour, to which our equipment gave

unusual facilities, as the ship's company could form a strong boat's

crew, independent of those who might be left on board the vessel, which

permitted us the freedom to land wherever our curiosity carried us. Let

me add, while reviewing for a moment a sunny portion of my life, that

among the six or seven friends who performed this voyage together, some

of them doubtless of different tastes and pursuits, and remaining for

several weeks on board a small vessel, there never occurred the

slightest dispute or disagreement, each seeming anxious to submit his

own particular wishes to those of his friends. By this mutual

accommodation all the purposes of our little expedition were obtained,

while for a time we might have adopted the lines of Allan Cunningham's

fine sea-song,

"The world of waters was our home,

And merry men were we!"

But sorrow mixes her memorials with the purest remembrances of pleasure.

On returning from the voyage which had proved so satisfactory, I found

that fate had deprived her country most unexpectedly of a lady,

qualified to adorn the high rank which she held, and who had long

admitted me to a share of her friendship. The subsequent loss of one of

those comrades who made up the party, and he the most intimate friend I

had in the world, casts also its shade on recollections which, but for

these embitterments, would be otherwise so pleasing.

I may here briefly observe, that my business in this voyage, so far as I

could be said to have any, was to endeavour to discover some localities

which might be useful in the "Lord of the Isles," a poem with which I

was then threatening the public, and was afterwards printed without

attaining remarkable success. But as at the same time the anonymous

novel of "Waverley" was making its way to popularity, I already augured

the possibility of a second effort in this department of literature, and

I saw much in the wild islands of the Orkneys and Zetland, which I

judged might be made in the highest degree interesting, should these

isles ever become the scene of a narrative of fictitious events. I

learned the history of Gow the pirate from an old sibyl, (the subject of

a note, p. 326 of this volume,) whose principal subsistence was by a

trade in favourable winds, which she sold to mariners at Stromness.

Nothing could be more interesting than the kindness and hospitality of

the gentlemen of Zetland, which was to me the more affecting, as several

of them had been friends and correspondents of my father.

I was induced to go a generation or two farther back, to find materials

from which I might trace the features of the old Norwegian Udaller, the

Scottish gentry having in general occupied the place of that primitive

race, and their language and peculiarities of manner having entirely

disappeared. The only difference now to be observed betwixt the gentry

of these islands, and those of Scotland in general, is, that the wealth

and property is more equally divided among our more northern countrymen,

and that there exists among the resident proprietors no men of very

great wealth, whose display of its luxuries might render the others

discontented with their own lot. From the same cause of general

equality of fortunes, and the cheapness of living, which is its natural

consequence, I found the officers of a veteran regiment who had

maintained the garrison at Fort Charlotte, in Lerwick, discomposed at

the idea of being recalled from a country where their pay, however

inadequate to the expenses of a capital, was fully adequate to their

wants, and it was singular to hear natives of merry England herself

regretting their approaching departure from the melancholy isles of the

Ultima Thule.

Such are the trivial particulars attending the origin of that

publication, which took place several years later than the agreeable

journey from which it took its rise.

The state of manners which I have introduced in the romance, was

necessarily in a great degree imaginary, though founded in some measure

on slight hints, which, showing what was, seemed to give reasonable

indication of what must once have been, the tone of the society in these

sequestered but interesting islands.

In one respect I was judged somewhat hastily, perhaps, when the

character of Norna was pronounced by the critics a mere copy of Meg

Merrilees. That I had fallen short of what I wished and desired to

express is unquestionable, otherwise my object could not have been so

widely mistaken; nor can I yet think that any person who will take the

trouble of reading the Pirate with some attention, can fail to trace in

Norna,--the victim of remorse and insanity, and the dupe of her own

imposture, her mind, too, flooded with all the wild literature and

extravagant superstitions of the north,--something distinct from the

Dumfries-shire gipsy, whose pretensions to supernatural powers are not

beyond those of a Norwood prophetess. The foundations of such a

character may be perhaps traced, though it be too true that the

necessary superstructure cannot have been raised upon them, otherwise

these remarks would have been unnecessary. There is also great

improbability in the statement of Norna's possessing power and

opportunity to impress on others that belief in her supernatural gifts

which distracted her own mind. Yet, amid a very credulous and ignorant

population, it is astonishing what success may be attained by an

impostor, who is, at the same time, an enthusiast. It is such as to

remind us of the couplet which assures us that

"The pleasure is as great

In being cheated as to cheat."

Indeed, as I have observed elsewhere, the professed explanation of a

tale, where appearances or incidents of a supernatural character are

referred to natural causes, has often, in the winding up of the story, a

degree of improbability almost equal to an absolute goblin narrative.

Even the genius of Mrs. Radcliffe could not always surmount this

difficulty.

ABBOTSFORD,

_1st May, 1831._

ADVERTISEMENT.

The purpose of the following Narrative is to give a detailed and

accurate account of certain remarkable incidents which took place in the

Orkney Islands, concerning which the more imperfect traditions and

mutilated records of the country only tell us the following erroneous

particulars:--

In the month of January, 1724-5, a vessel, called the Revenge, bearing

twenty large guns, and six smaller, commanded by JOHN GOW, or GOFFE, or

SMITH, came to the Orkney Islands, and was discovered to be a pirate, by

various acts of insolence and villainy committed by the crew. These were

for some time submitted to, the inhabitants of these remote islands not

possessing arms nor means of resistance; and so bold was the Captain of

these banditti, that he not only came ashore, and gave dancing parties

in the village of Stromness, but before his real character was

discovered, engaged the affections, and received the troth-plight, of a

young lady possessed of some property. A patriotic individual, JAMES

FEA, younger of Clestron, formed the plan of securing the buccanier,

which he effected by a mixture of courage and address, in consequence

chiefly of Gow's vessel having gone on shore near the harbour of

Calfsound, on the Island of Eda, not far distant from a house then

inhabited by Mr. FEA. In the various stratagems by which Mr. FEA

contrived finally, at the peril of his life, (they being well armed and

desperate,) to make the whole pirates his prisoners, he was much aided

by Mr. JAMES LAING, the grandfather of the late MALCOLM LAING, Esq., the

acute and ingenious historian of Scotland during the 17th century.

Gow, and others of his crew, suffered, by sentence of the High Court of

Admiralty, the punishment their crimes had long deserved. He conducted

himself with great audacity when before the Court; and, from an account

of the matter by an eye-witness, seems to have been subjected to some

unusual severities, in order to compel him to plead. The words are

these: "JOHN GOW would not plead, for which he was brought to the bar,

and the Judge ordered that his thumbs should be squeezed by two men,

with a whip-cord, till it did break; and then it should be doubled, till

it did again break, and then laid threefold, and that the executioners

should pull with their whole strength; which sentence Gow endured with a

great deal of boldness." The next morning, (27th May, 1725,) when he had

seen the terrible preparations for pressing him to death, his courage

gave way, and he told the Marshal of Court, that he would not have given

so much trouble, had he been assured of not being hanged in chains. He

was then tried, condemned, and executed, with others of his crew.

It is said, that the lady whose affections GOW had engaged, went up to

London to see him before his death, and that, arriving too late, she had

the courage to request a sight of his dead body; and then, touching the

hand of the corpse, she formally resumed the troth-plight which she had

bestowed. Without going through this ceremony, she could not, according

to the superstition of the country, have escaped a visit from the ghost

of her departed lover, in the event of her bestowing upon any living

suitor the faith which she had plighted to the dead. This part of the

legend may serve as a curious commentary on the fine Scottish ballad,

which begins,

"There came a ghost to Margaret's door," &c.(_a_)[6]

The common account of this incident farther bears, that Mr. FEA, the

spirited individual by whose exertions GOW'S career of iniquity was cut

short, was so far from receiving any reward from Government, that he

could not obtain even countenance enough to protect him against a

variety of sham suits, raised against him by Newgate solicitors, who

acted in the name of GOW, and others of the pirate crew; and the various

expenses, vexatious prosecutions, and other legal consequences, in which

his gallant exploit involved him, utterly ruined his fortune, and his

family; making his memory a notable example to all who shall in future

take pirates on their own authority.

It is to be supposed, for the honour of GEORGE the First's Government,

that the last circumstance, as well as the dates, and other particulars

of the commonly received story, are inaccurate, since they will be found

totally irreconcilable with the following veracious narrative, compiled

from materials to which he himself alone has had access, by

THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY.

FOOTNOTES:

[6] See Editor's Notes at the end of the Volume. Wherever a similar

reference occurs, the reader will understand that the same direction

applies.

THE PIRATE.

CHAPTER I.

The storm had ceased its wintry roar,

Hoarse dash the billows of the sea;

But who on Thule's desert shore,

Cries, Have I burnt my harp for thee?

MACNIEL.

That long, narrow, and irregular island, usually called the mainland of

Zetland, because it is by far the largest of that Archipelago,

terminates, as is well known to the mariners who navigate the stormy

seas which surround the Thule of the ancients, in a cliff of immense

height, entitled Sumburgh-Head, which presents its bare scalp and naked

sides to the weight of a tremendous surge, forming the extreme point of

the isle to the south-east. This lofty promontory is constantly exposed

to the current of a strong and furious tide, which, setting in betwixt

the Orkney and Zetland Islands, and running with force only inferior to

that of the Pentland Frith, takes its name from the headland we have

mentioned, and is called the Roost of Sumburgh; _roost_ being the phrase

assigned in those isles to currents of this description.

On the land side, the promontory is covered with short grass, and slopes

steeply down to a little isthmus, upon which the sea has encroached in

creeks, which, advancing from either side of the island, gradually work

their way forward, and seem as if in a short time they would form a

junction, and altogether insulate Sumburgh-Head, when what is now a

cape, will become a lonely mountain islet, severed from the mainland, of

which it is at present the terminating extremity.

Man, however, had in former days considered this as a remote or unlikely

event; for a Norwegian chief of other times, or, as other accounts said,

and as the name of Jarlshof seemed to imply, an ancient Earl of the

Orkneys had selected this neck of land as the place for establishing a

mansion-house. It has been long entirely deserted, and the vestiges only

can be discerned with difficulty; for the loose sand, borne on the

tempestuous gales of those stormy regions, has overblown, and almost

buried, the ruins of the buildings; but in the end of the seventeenth

century, a part of the Earl's mansion was still entire and habitable. It

was a rude building of rough stone, with nothing about it to gratify the

eye, or to excite the imagination; a large old-fashioned narrow house,

with a very steep roof, covered with flags composed of grey sandstone,

would perhaps convey the best idea of the place to a modern reader. The

windows were few, very small in size, and distributed up and down the

building with utter contempt of regularity. Against the main structure

had rested, in former times, certain smaller co-partments of the

mansion-house, containing offices, or subordinate apartments, necessary

for the accommodation of the Earl's retainers and menials. But these had

become ruinous; and the rafters had been taken down for fire-wood, or

for other purposes; the walls had given way in many places; and, to

complete the devastation, the sand had already drifted amongst the

ruins, and filled up what had been once the chambers they contained, to

the depth of two or three feet.

Amid this desolation, the inhabitants of Jarlshof had contrived, by

constant labour and attention, to keep in order a few roods of land,

which had been enclosed as a garden, and which, sheltered by the walls

of the house itself, from the relentless sea-blast, produced such

vegetables as the climate could bring forth, or rather as the sea-gale

would permit to grow; for these islands experience even less of the

rigour of cold than is encountered on the mainland of Scotland; but,

unsheltered by a wall of some sort or other, it is scarce possible to

raise even the most ordinary culinary vegetables; and as for shrubs or

trees, they are entirely out of the question, such is the force of the

sweeping sea-blast.

At a short distance from the mansion, and near to the sea-beach, just

where the creek forms a sort of imperfect harbour, in which lay three or

four fishing-boats, there were a few most wretched cottages for the

inhabitants and tenants of the township of Jarlshof, who held the whole

district of the landlord upon such terms as were in those days usually

granted to persons of this description, and which, of course, were hard

enough. The landlord himself resided upon an estate which he possessed

in a more eligible situation, in a different part of the island, and

seldom visited his possessions at Sumburgh-Head. He was an honest, plain

Zetland gentleman, somewhat passionate, the necessary result of being

surrounded by dependents; and somewhat over-convivial in his habits, the

consequence, perhaps, of having too much time at his disposal; but

frank-tempered and generous to his people, and kind and hospitable to

strangers. He was descended also of an old and noble Norwegian family; a

circumstance which rendered him dearer to the lower orders, most of whom

are of the same race; while the lairds, or proprietors, are generally of

Scottish extraction, who, at that early period, were still considered as

strangers and intruders. Magnus Troil, who deduced his descent from the

very Earl who was supposed to have founded Jarlshof, was peculiarly of

this opinion.

The present inhabitants of Jarlshof had experienced, on several

occasions, the kindness and good will of the proprietor of the

territory. When Mr. Mertoun--such was the name of the present inhabitant

of the old mansion--first arrived in Zetland, some years before the

story commences, he had been received at the house of Mr. Troil with

that warm and cordial hospitality for which the islands are

distinguished. No one asked him whence he came, where he was going, what

was his purpose in visiting so remote a corner of the empire, or what

was likely to be the term of his stay. He arrived a perfect stranger,

yet was instantly overpowered by a succession of invitations; and in

each house which he visited, he found a home as long as he chose to

accept it, and lived as one of the family, unnoticed and unnoticing,

until he thought proper to remove to some other dwelling. This apparent

indifference to the rank, character, and qualities of their guest, did

not arise from apathy on the part of his kind hosts, for the islanders

had their full share of natural curiosity; but their delicacy deemed it

would be an infringement upon the laws of hospitality, to ask questions

which their guest might have found it difficult or unpleasing to answer;

and instead of endeavouring, as is usual in other countries, to wring

out of Mr. Mertoun such communications as he might find it agreeable to

withhold, the considerate Zetlanders contented themselves with eagerly

gathering up such scraps of information as could be collected in the

course of conversation.

But the rock in an Arabian desert is not more reluctant to afford water,

than Mr. Basil Mertoun was niggard in imparting his confidence, even

incidentally; and certainly the politeness of the gentry of Thule was

never put to a more severe test than when they felt that good-breeding

enjoined them to abstain from enquiring into the situation of so

mysterious a personage.

All that was actually known of him was easily summed up. Mr. Mertoun had

come to Lerwick, then rising into some importance, but not yet

acknowledged as the principal town of the island, in a Dutch vessel,

accompanied only by his son, a handsome boy of about fourteen years old.

His own age might exceed forty. The Dutch skipper introduced him to some

of the very good friends with whom he used to barter gin and gingerbread

for little Zetland bullocks, smoked geese, and stockings of lambs-wool;

and although Meinheer could only say, that "Meinheer Mertoun hab bay his

bassage like one gentlemans, and hab given a Kreitz-dollar beside to the

crew," this introduction served to establish the Dutchman's passenger in

a respectable circle of acquaintances, which gradually enlarged, as it

appeared that the stranger was a man of considerable acquirements.

This discovery was made almost _per force_; for Mertoun was as unwilling

to speak upon general subjects, as upon his own affairs. But he was

sometimes led into discussions, which showed, as it were in spite of

himself, the scholar and the man of the world; and, at other times, as

if in requital of the hospitality which he experienced, he seemed to

compel himself, against his fixed nature, to enter into the society of

those around him, especially when it assumed the grave, melancholy, or

satirical cast, which best suited the temper of his own mind. Upon such

occasions, the Zetlanders were universally of opinion that he must have

had an excellent education, neglected only in one striking particular,

namely, that Mr. Mertoun scarce knew the stem of a ship from the stern;

and in the management of a boat, a cow could not be more ignorant. It

seemed astonishing such gross ignorance of the most necessary art of

life (in the Zetland Isles at least) should subsist along with his

accomplishments in other respects; but so it was.

Unless called forth in the manner we have mentioned, the habits of Basil

Mertoun were retired and gloomy. From loud mirth he instantly fled; and

even the moderated cheerfulness of a friendly party, had the invariable

effect of throwing him into deeper dejection than even his usual

demeanour indicated.

Women are always particularly desirous of investigating mystery, and of

alleviating melancholy, especially when these circumstances are united

in a handsome man about the prime of life. It is possible, therefore,

that amongst the fair-haired and blue-eyed daughters of Thule, this

mysterious and pensive stranger might have found some one to take upon

herself the task of consolation, had he shown any willingness to accept

such kindly offices; but, far from doing so, he seemed even to shun the

presence of the sex, to which in our distresses, whether of mind or

body, we generally apply for pity and comfort.

To these peculiarities Mr. Mertoun added another, which was particularly

disagreeable to his host and principal patron, Magnus Troil. This

magnate of Zetland, descended by the father's side, as we have already

said, from an ancient Norwegian family, by the marriage of its

representative with a Danish lady, held the devout opinion that a cup of

Geneva or Nantz was specific against all cares and afflictions whatever.

These were remedies to which Mr. Mertoun never applied; his drink was

water, and water alone, and no persuasion or entreaties could induce him

to taste any stronger beverage than was afforded by the pure spring. Now

this Magnus Troil could not tolerate; it was a defiance to the ancient

northern laws of conviviality, which, for his own part, he had so

rigidly observed, that although he was wont to assert that he had never

in his life gone to bed drunk, (that is, in his own sense of the word,)

it would have been impossible to prove that he had ever resigned himself

to slumber in a state of actual and absolute sobriety. It may be

therefore asked, What did this stranger bring into society to compensate

the displeasure given by his austere and abstemious habits? He had, in

the first place, that manner and self-importance which mark a person of

some consequence: and although it was conjectured that he could not be

rich, yet it was certainly known by his expenditure that neither was he

absolutely poor. He had, besides, some powers of conversation, when, as

we have already hinted, he chose to exert them, and his misanthropy or

aversion to the business and intercourse of ordinary life, was often

expressed in an antithetical manner, which passed for wit, when better

was not to be had. Above all, Mr. Mertoun's secret seemed impenetrable,

and his presence had all the interest of a riddle, which men love to

read over and over, because they cannot find out the meaning of it.

Notwithstanding these recommendations, Mertoun differed in so many

material points from his host, that after he had been for some time a

guest at his principal residence, Magnus Troil was agreeably surprised

when, one evening after they had sat two hours in absolute silence,

drinking brandy and water,--that is, Magnus drinking the alcohol, and

Mertoun the element,--the guest asked his host's permission to occupy,

as his tenant, this deserted mansion of Jarlshof, at the extremity of

the territory called Dunrossness, and situated just beneath

Sumburgh-Head. "I shall be handsomely rid of him," quoth Magnus to

himself, "and his kill-joy visage will never again stop the bottle in

its round. His departure will ruin me in lemons, however, for his mere

look was quite sufficient to sour a whole ocean of punch."

Yet the kind-hearted Zetlander generously and disinterestedly

remonstrated with Mr. Mertoun on the solitude and inconveniences to

which he was about to subject himself. "There were scarcely," he said,

"even the most necessary articles of furniture in the old house--there

was no society within many miles--for provisions, the principal article

of food would be sour sillocks, and his only company gulls and

gannets."

"My good friend," replied Mertoun, "if you could have named a

circumstance which would render the residence more eligible to me than

any other, it is that there would be neither human luxury nor human

society near the place of my retreat; a shelter from the weather for my

own head, and for the boy's, is all I seek for. So name your rent, Mr.

Troil, and let me be your tenant at Jarlshof."

"Rent?" answered the Zetlander; "why, no great rent for an old house

which no one has lived in since my mother's time--God rest her!--and as

for shelter, the old walls are thick enough, and will bear many a bang

yet. But, Heaven love you, Mr. Mertoun, think what you are purposing.

For one of us to live at Jarlshof, were a wild scheme enough; but you,

who are from another country, whether English, Scotch, or Irish, no one

can tell"----

"Nor does it greatly matter," said Mertoun, somewhat abruptly.

"Not a herring's scale," answered the Laird; "only that I like you the

better for being no Scot, as I trust you are not one. Hither they have

come like the clack-geese--every chamberlain has brought over a flock of

his own name, and his own hatching, for what I know, and here they roost

for ever--catch them returning to their own barren Highlands or

Lowlands, when once they have tasted our Zetland beef, and seen our

bonny _voes_ and lochs. No, sir," (here Magnus proceeded with great

animation, sipping from time to time the half-diluted spirit, which at

the same time animated his resentment against the intruders, and enabled

him to endure the mortifying reflection which it suggested,)--"No, sir,

the ancient days and the genuine manners of these Islands are no more;

for our ancient possessors,--our Patersons, our Feas, our

Schlagbrenners, our Thorbiorns, have given place to Giffords, Scotts,

Mouats, men whose names bespeak them or their ancestors strangers to the

soil which we the Troils have inhabited long before the days of

Turf-Einar, who first taught these Isles the mystery of burning peat for

fuel, and who has been handed down to a grateful posterity by a name

which records the discovery."

This was a subject upon which the potentate of Jarlshof was usually very

diffuse, and Mertoun saw him enter upon it with pleasure, because he

knew he should not be called upon to contribute any aid to the

conversation, and might therefore indulge his own saturnine humour while

the Norwegian Zetlander declaimed on the change of times and

inhabitants. But just as Magnus had arrived at the melancholy

conclusion, "how probable it was, that in another century scarce a

_merk_--scarce even an _ure_ of land, would be in the possession of the

Norse inhabitants, the true Udallers[7] of Zetland," he recollected the

circumstances of his guest, and stopped suddenly short. "I do not say

all this," he added, interrupting himself, "as if I were unwilling that

you should settle on my estate, Mr. Mertoun--But for Jarlshof--the place

is a wild one--Come from where you will, I warrant you will say, like

other travellers, you came from a better climate than ours, for so say

you all. And yet you think of a retreat, which the very natives run away

from. Will you not take your glass?"--(This was to be considered as

interjectional,)--"then here's to you."

"My good sir," answered Mertoun, "I am indifferent to climate; if there

is but air enough to fill my lungs, I care not if it be the breath of

Arabia or of Lapland."

"Air enough you may have," answered Magnus, "no lack of that--somewhat

damp, strangers allege it to be, but we know a corrective for

that--Here's to you, Mr. Mertoun--You must learn to _do so_, and to

smoke a pipe; and then, as you say, you will find the air of Zetland

equal to that of Arabia. But have you seen Jarlshof?"

The stranger intimated that he had not.

"Then," replied Magnus, "you have no idea of your undertaking. If you

think it a comfortable roadstead like this, with the house situated on

the side of an inland voe,[8] that brings the herrings up to your door,

you are mistaken, my heart. At Jarlshof you will see nought but the wild

waves tumbling on the bare rocks, and the Roost of Sumburgh running at

the rate of fifteen knots an-hour."

"I shall see nothing at least of the current of human passions," replied

Mertoun.

"You will hear nothing but the clanging and screaming of scarts,

sheer-waters, and seagulls, from daybreak till sunset."

"I will compound, my friend," replied the stranger, "so that I do not

hear the chattering of women's tongues."

"Ah," said the Norman, "that is because you hear just now my little

Minna and Brenda singing in the garden with your Mordaunt. Now, I would

rather listen to their little voices, than the skylark which I once

heard in Caithness, or the nightingale that I have read of.--What will

the girls do for want of their playmate Mordaunt?"

"They will shift for themselves," answered Mertoun; "younger or elder

they will find playmates or dupes.--But the question is, Mr. Troil, will

you let to me, as your tenant, this old mansion of Jarlshof?"

"Gladly, since you make it your option to live in a spot so desolate."

"And as for the rent?" continued Mertoun.

"The rent?" replied Magnus; "hum--why, you must have the bit of _plantie

cruive_,[9] which they once called a garden, and a right in the

_scathold_, and a sixpenny merk of land, that the tenants may fish for

you;--eight _lispunds_[10] of butter, and eight shillings sterling

yearly, is not too much?"

Mr. Mertoun agreed to terms so moderate, and from thenceforward resided

chiefly at the solitary mansion which we have described in the beginning

of this chapter, conforming not only without complaint, but, as it

seemed, with a sullen pleasure, to all the privations which so wild and

desolate a situation necessarily imposed on its inhabitant.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] The Udallers are the _allodial_ possessors of Zetland, who hold

their possessions under the old Norwegian law, instead of the feudal

tenures introduced among them from Scotland.

[8] Salt-water lake.

[9] Patch of ground for vegetables. The liberal custom of the country

permits any person, who has occasion for such a convenience, to select

out of the unenclosed moorland a small patch, which he surrounds with a

drystone wall, and cultivates as a kailyard, till he exhausts the soil

with cropping, and then he deserts it, and encloses another. This

liberty is so far from inferring an invasion of the right of proprietor

and tenant, that the last degree of contempt is inferred of an

avaricious man, when a Zetlander says he would not hold a _plantie

cruive_ of him.

[10] A lispund is about thirty pounds English, and the value is averaged

by Dr. Edmonston at ten shillings sterling.

CHAPTER II.

'Tis not alone the scene--the man, Anselmo,

The man finds sympathies in these wild wastes,

And roughly tumbling seas, which fairer views

And smoother waves deny him.

_Ancient Arama._

The few inhabitants of the township of Jarlshof had at first heard with

alarm, that a person of rank superior to their own was come to reside in

the ruinous tenement, which they still called the Castle. In those days

(for the present times are greatly altered for the better) the presence

of a superior, in such a situation, was almost certain to be attended

with additional burdens and exactions, for which, under one pretext or

another, feudal customs furnished a thousand apologies. By each of

these, a part of the tenants' hard-won and precarious profits was

diverted for the use of their powerful neighbour and superior, the

tacksman, as he was called. But the sub-tenants speedily found that no

oppression of this kind was to be apprehended at the hands of Basil

Mertoun. His own means, whether large or small, were at least fully

adequate to his expenses, which, so far as regarded his habits of life,

were of the most frugal description. The luxuries of a few books, and

some philosophical instruments, with which he was supplied from London

as occasion offered, seemed to indicate a degree of wealth unusual in

those islands; but, on the other hand, the table and the accommodations

at Jarlshof, did not exceed what was maintained by a Zetland proprietor

of the most inferior description.

The tenants of the hamlet troubled themselves very little about the

quality of their superior, as soon as they found that their situation

was rather to be mended than rendered worse by his presence; and, once

relieved from the apprehension of his tyrannizing over them, they laid

their heads together to make the most of him by various petty tricks of

overcharge and extortion, which for a while the stranger submitted to

with the most philosophic indifference. An incident, however, occurred,

which put his character in a new light, and effectually checked all

future efforts at extravagant imposition.

A dispute arose in the kitchen of the Castle betwixt an old governante,

who acted as housekeeper to Mr. Mertoun, and Sweyn Erickson, as good a

Zetlander as ever rowed a boat to the _haaf_ fishing;[11] which dispute,

as is usual in such cases, was maintained with such increasing heat and

vociferation as to reach the ears of the master, (as he was called,)

who, secluded in a solitary turret, was deeply employed in examining the

contents of a new package of books from London, which, after long

expectation, had found its way to Hull, from thence by a whaling vessel

to Lerwick, and so to Jarlshof. With more than the usual thrill of

indignation which indolent people always feel when roused into action on

some unpleasant occasion, Mertoun descended to the scene of contest, and

so suddenly, peremptorily, and strictly, enquired into the cause of

dispute, that the parties, notwithstanding every evasion which they

attempted, became unable to disguise from him, that their difference

respected the several interests to which the honest governante, and no

less honest fisherman, were respectively entitled, in an overcharge of

about one hundred per cent on a bargain of rock-cod, purchased by the

former from the latter, for the use of the family at Jarlshof.

When this was fairly ascertained and confessed, Mr. Mertoun stood

looking upon the culprits with eyes in which the utmost scorn seemed to

contend with awakening passion. "Hark you, ye old hag," said he at

length to the housekeeper, "avoid my house this instant! and know that I

dismiss you, not for being a liar, a thief, and an ungrateful

quean,--for these are qualities as proper to you as your name of

woman,--but for daring, in my house, to scold above your breath.--And

for you, you rascal, who suppose you may cheat a stranger as you would

_flinch_[12] a whale, know that I am well acquainted with the rights

which, by delegation from your master, Magnus Troil, I can exercise over

you, if I will. Provoke me to a certain pitch, and you shall learn, to

your cost, I can break your rest as easily as you can interrupt my

leisure. I know the meaning of _scat_, and _wattle_, and _hawkhen_, and

_hagalef_,(_b_) and every other exaction, by which your lords, in

ancient and modern days, have wrung your withers; nor is there one of

you that shall not rue the day that you could not be content with

robbing me of my money, but must also break in on my leisure with your

atrocious northern clamour, that rivals in discord the screaming of a

flight of Arctic gulls."

Nothing better occurred to Sweyn, in answer to this objurgation, than

the preferring a humble request that his honour would be pleased to

keep the cod-fish without payment, and say no more about the matter; but

by this time Mr. Mertoun had worked up his passions into an ungovernable

rage, and with one hand he threw the money at the fisherman's head,

while with the other he pelted him out of the apartment with his own

fish, which he finally flung out of doors after him.

There was so much of appalling and tyrannic fury in the stranger's

manner on this occasion, that Sweyn neither stopped to collect the money

nor take back his commodity, but fled at a precipitate rate to the small

hamlet, to tell his comrades that if they provoked Master Mertoun any

farther, he would turn an absolute Pate Stewart[13] on their hand, and

head and hang without either judgment or mercy.

Hither also came the discarded housekeeper, to consult with her

neighbours and kindred (for she too was a native of the village) what

she should do to regain the desirable situation from which she had been

so suddenly expelled. The old Ranzellaar of the village, who had the

voice most potential in the deliberations of the township, after hearing

what had happened, pronounced that Sweyn Erickson had gone too far in

raising the market upon Mr. Mertoun; and that whatever pretext the

tacksman might assume for thus giving way to his anger, the real

grievance must have been the charging the rock cod-fish at a penny

instead of a half-penny a-pound; he therefore exhorted all the community

never to raise their exactions in future beyond the proportion of

threepence upon the shilling, at which rate their master at the Castle

could not reasonably be expected to grumble, since, as he was disposed

to do them no harm, it was reasonable to think that, in a moderate way,

he had no objection to do them good. "And three upon twelve," said the

experienced Ranzellaar, "is a decent and moderate profit, and will bring

with it God's blessing and Saint Ronald's."

Proceeding upon the tariff thus judiciously recommended to them, the

inhabitants of Jarlshof cheated Mertoun in future only to the moderate

extent of twenty-five per cent; a rate to which all nabobs,

army-contractors, speculators in the funds, and others, whom recent and

rapid success has enabled to settle in the country upon a great scale,

ought to submit, as very reasonable treatment at the hand of their

rustic neighbours. Mertoun at least seemed of that opinion, for he gave

himself no farther trouble upon the subject of his household expenses.

The conscript fathers of Jarlshof, having settled their own matters,

took next under their consideration the case of Swertha, the banished

matron who had been expelled from the Castle, whom, as an experienced

and useful ally, they were highly desirous to restore to her office of

housekeeper, should that be found possible. But as their wisdom here

failed them, Swertha, in despair, had recourse to the good offices of

Mordaunt Mertoun, with whom she had acquired some favour by her

knowledge in old Norwegian ballads, and dismal tales concerning the

Trows or Drows, (the dwarfs of the Scalds,) with whom superstitious eld

had peopled many a lonely cavern and brown dale in Dunrossness, as in

every other district of Zetland. "Swertha," said the youth, "I can do

but little for you, but you may do something for yourself. My father's

passion resembles the fury of those ancient champions, those Berserkars,

you sing songs about."

"Ay, ay, fish of my heart," replied the old woman, with a pathetic

whine; "the Berserkars(_c_) were champions who lived before the blessed

days of Saint Olave, and who used to run like madmen on swords, and

spears, and harpoons, and muskets, and snap them all into pieces, as a

finner[14] would go through a herring-net, and then, when the fury went

off, they were as weak and unstable as water."[15]

"That's the very thing, Swertha," said Mordaunt. "Now, my father never

likes to think of his passion after it is over, and is so much of a

Berserkar, that, let him be desperate as he will to-day, he will not

care about it to-morrow. Therefore, he has not filled up your place in

the household at the Castle, and not a mouthful of warm food has been

dressed there since you went away, and not a morsel of bread baked, but

we have lived just upon whatever cold thing came to hand. Now, Swertha,

I will be your warrant, that if you go boldly up to the Castle, and

enter upon the discharge of your duties as usual, you will never hear a

single word from him."

Swertha hesitated at first to obey this bold counsel. She said, "to her

thinking, Mr. Mertoun, when he was angry, looked more like a fiend than

any Berserkar of them all; that the fire flashed from his eyes, and the

foam flew from his lips; and that it would be a plain tempting of

Providence to put herself again in such a venture."

But, on the encouragement which she received from the son, she

determined at length once more to face the parent; and, dressing herself

in her ordinary household attire, for so Mordaunt particularly

recommended, she slipped into the Castle, and presently resuming the

various and numerous occupations which devolved on her, seemed as deeply

engaged in household cares as if she had never been out of office.

The first day of her return to her duty, Swertha made no appearance in

presence of her master, but trusted that after his three days' diet on

cold meat, a hot dish, dressed with the best of her simple skill, might

introduce her favourably to his recollection. When Mordaunt had reported

that his father had taken no notice of this change of diet, and when she

herself observed that in passing and repassing him occasionally, her

appearance produced no effect upon her singular master, she began to

imagine that the whole affair had escaped Mr. Mertoun's memory, and was

active in her duty as usual. Neither was she convinced of the contrary

until one day, when, happening somewhat to elevate her tone in a dispute

with the other maid-servant, her master, who at that time passed the

place of contest, eyed her with a strong glance, and pronounced the

single word, _Remember!_ in a tone which taught Swertha the government

of her tongue for many weeks after.

If Mertoun was whimsical in his mode of governing his household, he

seemed no less so in his plan of educating his son. He showed the youth

but few symptoms of parental affection; yet, in his ordinary state of

mind, the improvement of Mordaunt's education seemed to be the utmost

object of his life. He had both books and information sufficient to

discharge the task of tutor in the ordinary branches of knowledge; and

in this capacity was regular, calm, and strict, not to say severe, in

exacting from his pupil the attention necessary for his profiting. But

in the perusal of history, to which their attention was frequently

turned, as well as in the study of classic authors, there often occurred

facts or sentiments which produced an instant effect upon Mertoun's

mind, and brought on him suddenly what Swertha, Sweyn, and even

Mordaunt, came to distinguish by the name of his dark hour. He was

aware, in the usual case, of its approach, and retreated to an inner

apartment, into which he never permitted even Mordaunt to enter. Here he

would abide in seclusion for days, and even weeks, only coming out at

uncertain times, to take such food as they had taken care to leave

within his reach, which he used in wonderfully small quantities. At

other times, and especially during the winter solstice, when almost

every person spends the gloomy time within doors in feasting and

merriment, this unhappy man would wrap himself in a dark-coloured

sea-cloak, and wander out along the stormy beach, or upon the desolate

heath, indulging his own gloomy and wayward reveries under the inclement

sky, the rather that he was then most sure to wander unencountered and

unobserved.

As Mordaunt grew older, he learned to note the particular signs which

preceded these fits of gloomy despondency, and to direct such

precautions as might ensure his unfortunate parent from ill-timed

interruption, (which had always the effect of driving him to fury,)

while, at the same time, full provision was made for his subsistence.

Mordaunt perceived that at such periods the melancholy fit of his father

was greatly prolonged, if he chanced to present himself to his eyes

while the dark hour was upon him. Out of respect, therefore, to his

parent, as well as to indulge the love of active exercise and of

amusement natural to his period of life, Mordaunt used often to absent

himself altogether from the mansion of Jarlshof, and even from the

district, secure that his father, if the dark hour passed away in his

absence, would be little inclined to enquire how his son had disposed of

his leisure, so that he was sure he had not watched his own weak

moments; that being the subject on which he entertained the utmost

jealousy.

At such times, therefore, all the sources of amusement which the country

afforded, were open to the younger Mertoun, who, in these intervals of

his education, had an opportunity to give full scope to the energies of

a bold, active, and daring character. He was often engaged with the

youth of the hamlet in those desperate sports, to which the "dreadful

trade of the samphire-gatherer" is like a walk upon level ground--often

joined those midnight excursions upon the face of the giddy cliffs, to

secure the eggs or the young of the sea-fowl; and in these daring

adventures displayed an address, presence of mind, and activity, which,

in one so young, and not a native of the country, astonished the oldest

fowlers.[16]

At other times, Mordaunt accompanied Sweyn and other fishermen in their

long and perilous expeditions to the distant and deep sea, learning

under their direction the management of the boat, in which they equal,

or exceed, perhaps, any natives of the British empire. This exercise had

charms for Mordaunt, independently of the fishing alone.

At this time, the old Norwegian sagas were much remembered, and often

rehearsed, by the fishermen, who still preserved among themselves the

ancient Norse tongue, which was the speech of their forefathers. In the

dark romance of those Scandinavian tales, lay much that was captivating

to a youthful ear; and the classic fables of antiquity were rivalled at

least, if not excelled, in Mordaunt's opinion, by the strange legends of

Berserkars, of Sea-kings, of dwarfs, giants, and sorcerers, which he

heard from the native Zetlanders. Often the scenes around him were

assigned as the localities of the wild poems, which, half recited, half

chanted by voices as hoarse, if not so loud, as the waves over which

they floated, pointed out the very bay on which they sailed as the scene

of a bloody sea-fight; the scarce-seen heap of stones that bristled over

the projecting cape, as the dun, or castle, of some potent earl or noted

pirate; the distant and solitary grey stone on the lonely moor, as

marking the grave of a hero; the wild cavern, up which the sea rolled in

heavy, broad, and unbroken billows, as the dwelling of some noted

sorceress.[17]

The ocean also had its mysteries, the effect of which was aided by the

dim twilight, through which it was imperfectly seen for more than half

the year. Its bottomless depths and secret caves contained, according to

the account of Sweyn and others, skilled in legendary lore, such wonders

as modern navigators reject with disdain. In the quiet moonlight bay,

where the waves came rippling to the shore, upon a bed of smooth sand

intermingled with shells, the mermaid was still seen to glide along the

waters, and, mingling her voice with the sighing breeze, was often heard

to sing of subterranean wonders, or to chant prophecies of future

events. The kraken, that hugest of living things, was still supposed to

cumber the recesses of the Northern Ocean; and often, when some fog-bank

covered the sea at a distance, the eye of the experienced boatman saw

the horns of the monstrous leviathan welking and waving amidst the

wreaths of mist, and bore away with all press of oar and sail, lest the

sudden suction, occasioned by the sinking of the monstrous mass to the

bottom, should drag within the grasp of its multifarious feelers his own

frail skiff. The sea-snake was also known, which, arising out of the

depths of ocean, stretches to the skies his enormous neck, covered with

a mane like that of a war-horse, and with its broad glittering eyes,

raised mast-head high, looks out, as it seems, for plunder or for

victims.

Many prodigious stories of these marine monsters, and of many others

less known, were then universally received among the Zetlanders, whose

descendants have not as yet by any means abandoned faith in them.[18]

Such legends are, indeed, everywhere current amongst the vulgar; but

the imagination is far more powerfully affected by them on the deep and

dangerous seas of the north, amidst precipices and headlands, many

hundred feet in height,--amid perilous straits, and currents, and

eddies,--long sunken reefs of rock, over which the vivid ocean foams and

boils,--dark caverns, to whose extremities neither man nor skiff has

ever ventured,--lonely, and often uninhabited isles,--and occasionally

the ruins of ancient northern fastnesses, dimly seen by the feeble light

of the Arctic winter. To Mordaunt, who had much of romance in his

disposition, these superstitions formed a pleasing and interesting

exercise of the imagination, while, half doubting, half inclined to

believe, he listened to the tales chanted concerning these wonders of

nature, and creatures of credulous belief, told in the rude but

energetic language of the ancient Scalds.

But there wanted not softer and lighter amusement, that might seem

better suited to Mordaunt's age, than the wild tales and rude exercises

which we have already mentioned. The season of winter, when, from the

shortness of the daylight, labour becomes impossible, is in Zetland the

time of revel, feasting, and merriment. Whatever the fisherman has been

able to acquire during summer, was expended, and often wasted, in

maintaining the mirth and hospitality of his hearth during this period;

while the landholders and gentlemen of the island gave double loose to

their convivial and hospitable dispositions, thronged their houses with

guests, and drove away the rigour of the season with jest, glee, and

song, the dance, and the wine-cup.

Amid the revels of this merry, though rigorous season, no youth added

more spirit to the dance, or glee to the revel, than the young stranger,

Mordaunt Mertoun. When his father's state of mind permitted, or indeed

required, his absence, he wandered from house to house a welcome guest

whereever he came, and lent his willing voice to the song, and his foot

to the dance. A boat, or, if the weather, as was often the case,

permitted not that convenience, one of the numerous ponies, which,

straying in hordes about the extensive moors, may be said to be at any

man's command who can catch them, conveyed him from the mansion of one

hospitable Zetlander to that of another. None excelled him in performing

the warlike sword-dance, a species of amusement which had been derived

from the habits of the ancient Norsemen. He could play upon the _gue_,

and upon the common violin, the melancholy and pathetic tunes peculiar

to the country; and with great spirit and execution could relieve their

monotony with the livelier airs of the North of Scotland. When a party

set forth as maskers, or, as they are called in Scotland, _guizards_, to

visit some neighbouring Laird, or rich Udaller, it augured well of the

expedition if Mordaunt Mertoun could be prevailed upon to undertake the

office of _skudler_, or leader of the band. Upon these occasions, full

of fun and frolic, he led his retinue from house to house, bringing

mirth where he went, and leaving regret when he departed. Mordaunt

became thus generally known and beloved as generally, through most of

the houses composing the patriarchal community of the Main Isle; but his

visits were most frequently and most willingly paid at the mansion of

his father's landlord and protector, Magnus Troil.

It was not entirely the hearty and sincere welcome of the worthy old

Magnate, nor the sense that he was in effect his father's patron, which

occasioned these frequent visits. The hand of welcome was indeed

received as eagerly as it was sincerely given, while the ancient

Udaller, raising himself in his huge chair, whereof the inside was lined

with well-dressed sealskins, and the outside composed of massive oak,

carved by the rude graving-tool of some Hamburgh carpenter, shouted

forth his welcome in a tone, which might, in ancient times, have hailed

the return of _Ioul_, the highest festival of the Goths. There was metal

yet more attractive, and younger hearts, whose welcome, if less loud,

was as sincere as that of the jolly Udaller. But this is matter which

ought not to be discussed at the conclusion of a chapter.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] _i. e._ The deep-sea fishing, in distinction to that which is

practised along shore.

[12] The operation of slicing the blubber from the bones of the whale,

is called, technically, _flinching_.

[13] Meaning, probably, Patrick Stewart, Earl of Orkney, executed for

tyranny and oppression practised on the inhabitants of those remote

islands, in the beginning of the seventeenth century.

[14] _Finner_, small whale.

[15] The sagas of the Scalds are full of descriptions of these

champions, and do not permit us to doubt that the Berserkars, so called

from fighting without armour, used some physical means of working

themselves into a frenzy, during which they possessed the strength and

energy of madness. The Indian warriors are well known to do the same by

dint of opium and bang.

[16] Fatal accidents, however, sometimes occur. When I visited the Fair

Isle in 1814, a poor lad of fourteen had been killed by a fall from the

rocks about a fortnight before our arrival. The accident happened almost

within sight of his mother, who was casting peats at no great distance.

The body fell into the sea, and was seen no more. But the islanders

account this an honourable mode of death; and as the children begin the

practice of climbing very early, fewer accidents occur than might be

expected.

[17] Note I.--Norse Fragments.

[18] Note II.--Monsters of the Northern Seas.

CHAPTER III.

"O, Bessy Bell and Mary Gray,

They were twa bonnie lasses;

They biggit a house on yon burn-brae,

And theekit it ower wi' rashes.

Fair Bessy Bell I looed yestreen,

And thought I ne'er could alter;

But Mary Gray's twa pawky een

Have garr'd my fancy falter."(_d_)

_Scots Song._

We have already mentioned Minna and Brenda, the daughters of Magnus

Troil. Their mother had been dead for many years, and they were now two

beautiful girls, the eldest only eighteen, which might be a year or two

younger than Mordaunt Mertoun, the second about seventeen.--They were

the joy of their father's heart, and the light of his old eyes; and

although indulged to a degree which might have endangered his comfort

and their own, they repaid his affection with a love, into which even

blind indulgence had not introduced slight regard, or feminine caprice.

The difference of their tempers and of their complexions was singularly

striking, although combined, as is usual, with a certain degree of

family resemblance.

The mother of these maidens had been a Scottish lady from the Highlands

of Sutherland, the orphan of a noble chief, who, driven from his own

country during the feuds of the seventeenth century, had found shelter

in those peaceful islands, which, amidst poverty and seclusion, were

thus far happy, that they remained unvexed by discord, and unstained by

civil broil. The father (his name was Saint Clair) pined for his native

glen, his feudal tower, his clansmen, and his fallen authority, and died

not long after his arrival in Zetland. The beauty of his orphan

daughter, despite her Scottish lineage, melted the stout heart of Magnus

Troil. He sued and was listened to, and she became his bride; but dying

in the fifth year of their union, left him to mourn his brief period of

domestic happiness.

From her mother, Minna inherited the stately form and dark eyes, the

raven locks and finely-pencilled brows, which showed she was, on one

side at least, a stranger to the blood of Thule. Her cheek,--

"O call it fair, not pale!"

was so slightly and delicately tinged with the rose, that many thought

the lily had an undue proportion in her complexion. But in that

predominance of the paler flower, there was nothing sickly or languid;

it was the true natural colour of health, and corresponded in a peculiar

degree with features, which seemed calculated to express a contemplative

and high-minded character. When Minna Troil heard a tale of woe or of

injustice, it was then her blood rushed to her cheeks, and showed

plainly how warm it beat, notwithstanding the generally serious,

composed, and retiring disposition, which her countenance and demeanour

seemed to exhibit. If strangers sometimes conceived that these fine

features were clouded by melancholy, for which her age and situation

could scarce have given occasion, they were soon satisfied, upon

further acquaintance, that the placid, mild quietude of her disposition,

and the mental energy of a character which was but little interested in

ordinary and trivial occurrences, was the real cause of her gravity; and

most men, when they knew that her melancholy had no ground in real

sorrow, and was only the aspiration of a soul bent on more important

objects than those by which she was surrounded, might have wished her

whatever could add to her happiness, but could scarce have desired that,

graceful as she was in her natural and unaffected seriousness, she

should change that deportment for one more gay. In short,

notwithstanding our wish to have avoided that hackneyed simile of an

angel, we cannot avoid saying there was something in the serious beauty

of her aspect, in the measured, yet graceful ease of her motions, in the

music of her voice, and the serene purity of her eye, that seemed as if

Minna Troil belonged naturally to some higher and better sphere, and was

only the chance visitant of a world that was not worthy of her.

The scarcely less beautiful, equally lovely, and equally innocent

Brenda, was of a complexion as differing from her sister, as they

differed in character, taste, and expression. Her profuse locks were of

that paly brown which receives from the passing sunbeam a tinge of gold,

but darkens again when the ray has passed from it. Her eye, her mouth,

the beautiful row of teeth, which in her innocent vivacity were

frequently disclosed; the fresh, yet not too bright glow of a healthy

complexion, tinging a skin like the drifted snow, spoke her genuine

Scandinavian descent. A fairy form, less tall than that of Minna, but

still more finely moulded into symmetry--a careless, and almost

childish lightness of step--an eye that seemed to look on every object

with pleasure, from a natural and serene cheerfulness of disposition,

attracted even more general admiration than the charms of her sister,

though perhaps that which Minna did excite might be of a more intense as

well as more reverential character.

The dispositions of these lovely sisters were not less different than

their complexions. In the kindly affections, neither could be said to

excel the other, so much were they attached to their father and to each

other. But the cheerfulness of Brenda mixed itself with the every-day

business of life, and seemed inexhaustible in its profusion. The less

buoyant spirit of her sister appeared to bring to society a contented

wish to be interested and pleased with what was going forward, but was

rather placidly carried along with the stream of mirth and pleasure,

than disposed to aid its progress by any efforts of her own. She endured

mirth, rather than enjoyed it; and the pleasures in which she most

delighted, were those of a graver and more solitary cast. The knowledge

which is derived from books was beyond her reach. Zetland afforded few

opportunities, in those days, of studying the lessons, bequeathed

"By dead men to their kind;"

and Magnus Troil, such as we have described him, was not a person within

whose mansion the means of such knowledge were to be acquired. But the

book of nature was before Minna, that noblest of volumes, where we are

ever called to wonder and to admire, even when we cannot understand.

The plants of those wild regions, the shells on the shores, and the

long list of feathered clans which haunt their cliffs and eyries, were

as well known to Minna Troil as to the most experienced fowlers. Her

powers of observation were wonderful, and little interrupted by other

tones of feeling. The information which she acquired by habits of

patient attention, was indelibly riveted in a naturally powerful memory.

She had also a high feeling for the solitary and melancholy grandeur of

the scenes in which she was placed. The ocean, in all its varied forms

of sublimity and terror--the tremendous cliffs that resound to the

ceaseless roar of the billows, and the clang of the sea-fowl, had for

Minna a charm in almost every state in which the changing seasons

exhibited them. With the enthusiastic feelings proper to the romantic

race from which her mother descended, the love of natural objects was to

her a passion capable not only of occupying, but at times of agitating,

her mind. Scenes upon which her sister looked with a sense of transient

awe or emotion, which vanished on her return from witnessing them,

continued long to fill Minna's imagination, not only in solitude, and in

the silence of the night, but in the hours of society. So that sometimes

when she sat like a beautiful statue, a present member of the domestic

circle, her thoughts were far absent, wandering on the wild sea-shore,

and among the yet wilder mountains of her native isles. And yet, when

recalled to conversation, and mingling in it with interest, there were

few to whom her friends were more indebted for enhancing its enjoyments;

and although something in her manners claimed deference (notwithstanding

her early youth) as well as affection, even her gay, lovely, and

amiable sister was not more generally beloved than the more retired and

pensive Minna.

Indeed, the two lovely sisters were not only the delight of their

friends, but the pride of those islands, where the inhabitants of a

certain rank were blended, by the remoteness of their situation and the

general hospitality of their habits, into one friendly community. A

wandering poet and parcel-musician, who, after going through various

fortunes, had returned to end his days as he could in his native

islands, had celebrated the daughters of Magnus in a poem, which he

entitled Night and Day; and in his description of Minna, might almost be

thought to have anticipated, though only in a rude outline, the

exquisite lines of Lord Byron,--

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect, and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies."

Their father loved the maidens both so well, that it might be difficult

to say which he loved best; saving that, perchance, he liked his graver

damsel better in the walk without doors, and his merry maiden better by

the fireside; that he more desired the society of Minna when he was sad,

and that of Brenda when he was mirthful; and, what was nearly the same

thing, preferred Minna before noon, and Brenda after the glass had

circulated in the evening.

But it was still more extraordinary, that the affections of Mordaunt

Mertoun seemed to hover with the same impartiality as those of their

father betwixt the two lovely sisters. From his boyhood, as we have

noticed, he had been a frequent inmate of the residence of Magnus at

Burgh-Westra, although it lay nearly twenty miles distant from Jarlshof.

The impassable character of the country betwixt these places, extending

over hills covered with loose and quaking bog, and frequently

intersected by the creeks or arms of the sea, which indent the island on

either side, as well as by fresh-water streams and lakes, rendered the

journey difficult, and even dangerous, in the dark season; yet, as soon

as the state of his father's mind warned him to absent himself,

Mordaunt, at every risk, and under every difficulty, was pretty sure to

be found the next day at Burgh-Westra, having achieved his journey in

less time than would have been employed perhaps by the most active

native.

He was of course set down as a wooer of one of the daughters of Magnus,

by the public of Zetland; and when the old Udaller's great partiality to

the youth was considered, nobody doubted that he might aspire to the

hand of either of those distinguished beauties, with as large a share of

islets, rocky moorland, and shore-fishings, as might be the fitting

portion of a favoured child, and with the presumptive prospect of

possessing half the domains of the ancient house of Troil, when their

present owner should be no more. This seemed all a reasonable

speculation, and, in theory at least, better constructed than many that

are current through the world as unquestionable facts. But, alas! all

that sharpness of observation which could be applied to the conduct of

the parties, failed to determine the main point, to which of the young

persons, namely, the attentions of Mordaunt were peculiarly devoted. He

seemed, in general, to treat them as an affectionate and attached

brother might have treated two sisters, so equally dear to him that a

breath would have turned the scale of affection. Or if at any time,

which often happened, the one maiden appeared the more especial object

of his attention, it seemed only to be because circumstances called her

peculiar talents and disposition into more particular and immediate

exercise.

Both the sisters were accomplished in the simple music of the north, and

Mordaunt, who was their assistant, and sometimes their preceptor, when

they were practising this delightful art, might be now seen assisting

Minna in the acquisition of those wild, solemn, and simple airs, to

which scalds and harpers sung of old the deeds of heroes, and presently

found equally active in teaching Brenda the more lively and complicated

music, which their father's affection caused to be brought from the

English or Scottish capital for the use of his daughters. And while

conversing with them, Mordaunt, who mingled a strain of deep and ardent

enthusiasm with the gay and ungovernable spirits of youth, was equally

ready to enter into the wild and poetical visions of Minna, or into the

lively and often humorous chat of her gayer sister. In short, so little

did he seem to attach himself to either damsel exclusively, that he was

sometimes heard to say, that Minna never looked so lovely, as when her

lighthearted sister had induced her, for the time, to forget her

habitual gravity; or Brenda so interesting, as when she sat listening, a

subdued and affected partaker of the deep pathos of her sister Minna.

The public of the mainland were, therefore, to use the hunter's phrase,

at fault in their farther conclusions, and could but determine, after

long vacillating betwixt the maidens, that the young man was positively

to marry one of them, but which of the two could only be determined when

his approaching manhood, or the interference of stout old Magnus, the

father, should teach Master Mordaunt Mertoun to know his own mind. "It

was a pretty thing, indeed," they usually concluded, "that he, no native

born, and possessed of no visible means of subsistence that is known to

any one, should presume to hesitate, or affect to have the power of

selection and choice, betwixt the two most distinguished beauties of

Zetland. If they were Magnus Troil, they would soon be at the bottom of

the matter"--and so forth. All which remarks were only whispered, for

the hasty disposition of the Udaller had too much of the old Norse fire

about it to render it safe for any one to become an unauthorized

intermeddler with his family affairs; and thus stood the relation of

Mordaunt Mertoun to the family of Mr. Troil of Burgh-Westra, when the

following incidents took place.

CHAPTER IV.

This is no pilgrim's morning--yon grey mist

Lies upon hill, and dale, and field, and forest,

Like the dun wimple of a new-made widow;

And, by my faith, although my heart be soft,

I'd rather hear that widow weep and sigh,

And tell the virtues of the dear departed,

Than, when the tempest sends his voice abroad,

Be subject to its fury.

_The Double Nuptials._

The spring was far advanced, when, after a week spent in sport and

festivity at Burgh-Westra, Mordaunt Mertoun bade adieu to the family,

pleading the necessity of his return to Jarlshof. The proposal was

combated by the maidens, and more decidedly by Magnus himself: He saw no

occasion whatever for Mordaunt returning to Jarlshof. If his father

desired to see him, which, by the way, Magnus did not believe, Mr.

Mertoun had only to throw himself into the stern of Sweyn's boat, or

betake himself to a pony, if he liked a land journey better, and he

would see not only his son, but twenty folk besides, who would be most

happy to find that he had not lost the use of his tongue entirely during

his long solitude; "although I must own," added the worthy Udaller,

"that when he lived among us, nobody ever made less use of it."

Mordaunt acquiesced both in what respected his father's taciturnity, and

his dislike to general society; but suggested, at the same time, that

the first circumstance rendered his own immediate return more

necessary, as he was the usual channel of communication betwixt his

father and others; and that the second corroborated the same necessity,

since Mr. Mertoun's having no other society whatever seemed a weighty

reason why his son's should be restored to him without loss of time. As

to his father's coming to Burgh-Westra, "they might as well," he said,

"expect to see Sumburgh Cape come thither."

"And that would be a cumbrous guest," said Magnus. "But you will stop

for our dinner to-day? There are the families of Muness, Quendale,

Thorslivoe, and I know not who else, are expected; and, besides the

thirty that were in house this blessed night, we shall have as many more

as chamber and bower, and barn and boat-house, can furnish with beds, or

with barley-straw,--and you will leave all this behind you!"

"And the blithe dance at night," added Brenda, in a tone betwixt

reproach and vexation; "and the young men from the Isle of Paba that are

to dance the sword-dance, whom shall we find to match them, for the

honour of the Main?"

"There is many a merry dancer on the mainland, Brenda," replied

Mordaunt, "even if I should never rise on tiptoe again. And where good

dancers are found, Brenda Troil will always find the best partner. I

must trip it to-night through the Wastes of Dunrossness."

"Do not say so, Mordaunt," said Minna, who, during this conversation,

had been looking from the window something anxiously; "go not, to-day at

least, through the Wastes of Dunrossness."

"And why not to-day, Minna," said Mordaunt, laughing, "any more than

to-morrow?"

"O, the morning mist lies heavy upon yonder chain of isles, nor has it

permitted us since daybreak even a single glimpse of Fitful-head, the

lofty cape that concludes yon splendid range of mountains. The fowl are

winging their way to the shore, and the shelldrake seems, through the

mist, as large as the scart.[19] See, the very sheerwaters and bonxies

are making to the cliffs for shelter."

"And they will ride out a gale against a king's frigate," said her

father; "there is foul weather when they cut and run."

"Stay, then, with us," said Minna to her friend; "the storm will be

dreadful, yet it will be grand to see it from Burgh-Westra, if we have

no friend exposed to its fury. See, the air is close and sultry, though

the season is yet so early, and the day so calm, that not a windlestraw

moves on the heath. Stay with us, Mordaunt; the storm which these signs

announce will be a dreadful one."

"I must be gone the sooner," was the conclusion of Mordaunt, who could

not deny the signs, which had not escaped his own quick observation. "If

the storm be too fierce, I will abide for the night at Stourburgh."

"What!" said Magnus; "will you leave us for the new chamberlain's new

Scotch tacksman, who is to teach all us Zetland savages new ways? Take

your own gate, my lad, if that is the song you sing."

"Nay," said Mordaunt; "I had only some curiosity to see the new

implements he has brought."

"Ay, ay, ferlies make fools fain. I would like to know if his new plough

will bear against a Zetland rock?" answered Magnus.

"I must not pass Stourburgh on the journey," said the youth, deferring

to his patron's prejudice against innovation, "if this boding weather

bring on tempest; but if it only break in rain, as is most probable, I

am not likely to be melted in the wetting."

"It will not soften into rain alone," said Minna; "see how much heavier

the clouds fall every moment, and see these weather-gaws that streak the

lead-coloured mass with partial gleams of faded red and purple."

"I see them all," said Mordaunt; "but they only tell me I have no time

to tarry here. Adieu, Minna; I will send you the eagle's feathers, if an

eagle can be found on Fair-isle or Foulah. And fare thee well, my pretty

Brenda, and keep a thought for me, should the Paba men dance ever so

well."

"Take care of yourself, since go you will," said both sisters, together.

Old Magnus scolded them formally for supposing there was any danger to

an active young fellow from a spring gale, whether by sea or land; yet

ended by giving his own caution also to Mordaunt, advising him seriously

to delay his journey, or at least to stop at Stourburgh. "For," said he,

"second thoughts are best; and as this Scottishman's howf lies right

under your lee, why, take any port in a storm. But do not be assured to

find the door on latch, let the storm blow ever so hard; there are such

matters as bolts and bars in Scotland,(_e_) though, thanks to Saint

Ronald, they are unknown here, save that great lock on the old Castle

of Scalloway, that all men run to see--may be they make part of this

man's improvements. But go, Mordaunt, since go you will. You should

drink a stirrup-cup now, were you three years older, but boys should

never drink, excepting after dinner; I will drink it for you, that good

customs may not be broken, or bad luck come of it. Here is your bonally,

my lad." And so saying, he quaffed a rummer glass of brandy with as much

impunity as if it had been spring-water. Thus regretted and cautioned on

all hands, Mordaunt took leave of the hospitable household, and looking

back at the comforts with which it was surrounded, and the dense smoke

that rolled upwards from its chimneys, he first recollected the

guestless and solitary desolation of Jarlshof, then compared with the

sullen and moody melancholy of his father's temper the warm kindness of

those whom he was leaving, and could not refrain from a sigh at the

thoughts which forced themselves on his imagination.

The signs of the tempest did not dishonour the predictions of Minna.

Mordaunt had not advanced three hours on his journey, before the wind,

which had been so deadly still in the morning, began at first to wail

and sigh, as if bemoaning beforehand the evils which it might perpetrate

in its fury, like a madman in the gloomy state of dejection which

precedes his fit of violence; then gradually increasing, the gale

howled, raged, and roared, with the full fury of a northern storm. It

was accompanied by showers of rain mixed with hail, that dashed with the

most unrelenting rage against the hills and rocks with which the

traveller was surrounded, distracting his attention, in spite of his

utmost exertions, and rendering it very difficult for him to keep the

direction of his journey in a country where there is neither road, nor

even the slightest track to direct the steps of the wanderer, and where

he is often interrupted by brooks as well as large pools of water,

lakes, and lagoons. All these inland waters were now lashed into sheets

of tumbling foam, much of which, carried off by the fury of the

whirlwind, was mingled with the gale, and transported far from the waves

of which it had lately made a part; while the salt relish of the drift

which was pelted against his face, showed Mordaunt that the spray of the

more distant ocean, disturbed to frenzy by the storm, was mingled with

that of the inland lakes and streams.

Amidst this hideous combustion of the elements, Mordaunt Mertoun

struggled forward as one to whom such elemental war was familiar, and

who regarded the exertions which it required to withstand its fury, but

as a mark of resolution and manhood. He felt even, as happens usually to

those who endure great hardships, that the exertion necessary to subdue

them, is in itself a kind of elevating triumph. To see and distinguish

his path when the cattle were driven from the hill, and the very fowls

from the firmament, was but the stronger proof of his own superiority.

"They shall not hear of me at Burgh-Westra," said he to himself, "as

they heard of old doited Ringan Ewenson's boat, that foundered betwixt

roadstead and key. I am more of a cragsman than to mind fire or water,

wave by sea, or quagmire by land." Thus he struggled on, buffeting with

the storm, supplying the want of the usual signs by which travellers

directed their progress, (for rock, mountain, and headland, were

shrouded in mist and darkness,) by the instinctive sagacity with which

long acquaintance with these wilds had taught him to mark every minute

object, which could serve in such circumstances to regulate his course.

Thus, we repeat, he struggled onward, occasionally standing still, or

even lying down, when the gust was most impetuous; making way against it

when it was somewhat lulled, by a rapid and bold advance even in its

very current; or, when this was impossible, by a movement resembling

that of a vessel working to windward by short tacks, but never yielding

one inch of the way which he had fought so hard to gain.

Yet, notwithstanding Mordaunt's experience and resolution, his situation

was sufficiently uncomfortable, and even precarious; not because his

sailor's jacket and trowsers, the common dress of young men through

these isles when on a journey, were thoroughly wet, for that might have

taken place within the same brief time, in any ordinary day, in this

watery climate; but the real danger was, that, notwithstanding his

utmost exertions, he made very slow way through brooks that were sending

their waters all abroad, through morasses drowned in double deluges of

moisture, which rendered all the ordinary passes more than usually

dangerous, and repeatedly obliged the traveller to perform a

considerable circuit, which in the usual case was unnecessary. Thus

repeatedly baffled, notwithstanding his youth and strength, Mordaunt,

after maintaining a dogged conflict with wind, rain, and the fatigue of

a prolonged journey, was truly happy, when, not without having been more

than once mistaken in his road, he at length found himself within sight

of the house of Stourburgh, or Harfra; for the names were indifferently

given to the residence of Mr. Triptolemus Yellowley, who was the chosen

missionary of the Chamberlain of Orkney and Zetland, a speculative

person, who designed, through the medium of Triptolemus, to introduce

into the _Ultima Thule_ of the Romans, a spirit of improvement, which at

that early period was scarce known to exist in Scotland itself.

At length, and with much difficulty, Mordaunt reached the house of this

worthy agriculturist, the only refuge from the relentless storm which he

could hope to meet with for several miles; and going straight to the

door, with the most undoubting confidence of instant admission, he was

not a little surprised to find it not merely latched, which the weather

might excuse, but even bolted, a thing which, as Magnus Troil has

already intimated, was almost unknown in the Archipelago. To knock, to

call, and finally to batter the door with staff and stones, were the

natural resources of the youth, who was rendered alike impatient by the

pelting of the storm, and by encountering such most unexpected and

unusual obstacles to instant admission. As he was suffered, however, for

many minutes to exhaust his impatience in noise and clamour, without

receiving any reply, we will employ them in informing the reader who

Triptolemus Yellowley was, and how he came by a name so singular.

Old Jasper Yellowley, the father of Triptolemus, (though born at the

foot of Roseberry-Topping,) had been _come over_ by a certain noble

Scottish Earl, who, proving too far north for canny Yorkshire, had

persuaded him to accept of a farm in the Mearns, where, it is

unnecessary to add, he found matters very different from what he had

expected. It was in vain that the stout farmer set manfully to work, to

counterbalance, by superior skill, the inconveniences arising from a

cold soil and a weeping climate. These might have been probably

overcome; but his neighbourhood to the Grampians exposed him eternally

to that species of visitation from the plaided gentry, who dwelt within

their skirts, which made young Norval a warrior and a hero, but only

converted Jasper Yellowley into a poor man. This was, indeed, balanced

in some sort by the impression which his ruddy cheek and robust form had

the fortune to make upon Miss Barbara Clinkscale, daughter to the

umquhile, and sister to the then existing, Clinkscale of that ilk.

This was thought a horrid and unnatural union in the neighbourhood,

considering that the house of Clinkscale had at least as great a share

of Scottish pride as of Scottish parsimony, and was amply endowed with

both. But Miss Babie had her handsome fortune of two thousand marks at

her own disposal, was a woman of spirit who had been _major_ and _sui

juris_, (as the writer who drew the contract assured her,) for full

twenty years; so she set consequences and commentaries alike at

defiance, and wedded the hearty Yorkshire yeoman. Her brother and her

more wealthy kinsmen drew off in disgust, and almost disowned their

degraded relative. But the house of Clinkscale was allied (like every

other family in Scotland at the time) to a set of relations who were not

so nice--tenth and sixteenth cousins, who not only acknowledged their

kinswoman Babie after her marriage with Yellowley but even condescended

to eat beans and bacon (though the latter was then the abomination of

the Scotch as much as of the Jews) with her husband, and would

willingly have cemented the friendship by borrowing a little cash from

him, had not his good lady (who understood trap as well as any woman in

the Mearns) put a negative on this advance to intimacy. Indeed she knew

how to make young Deilbelicket,(_f_) old Dougald Baresword, the Laird of

Bandybrawl, and others, pay for the hospitality which she did not think

proper to deny them, by rendering them useful in her negotiations with

the lighthanded lads beyond the Cairn, who, finding their late object of

plunder was now allied to "kend folks, and owned by them at kirk and

market," became satisfied, on a moderate yearly composition, to desist

from their depredations.

This eminent success reconciled Jasper to the dominion which his wife

began to assume over him; and which was much confirmed by her proving to

be--let me see--what is the prettiest mode of expressing it?--in the

family way. On this occasion, Mrs. Yellowley had a remarkable dream, as

is the usual practice of teeming mothers previous to the birth of an

illustrious offspring. She "was a-dreamed," as her husband expressed it,

that she was safely delivered of a plough, drawn by three yoke of

Angus-shire oxen; and being a mighty investigator into such portents,

she sat herself down with her gossips, to consider what the thing might

mean. Honest Jasper ventured, with much hesitation, to intimate his own

opinion, that the vision had reference rather to things past than things

future, and might have been occasioned by his wife's nerves having been

a little startled by meeting in the loan above the house his own great

plough with the six oxen, which were the pride of his heart. But the

good _cummers_[20] raised such a hue and cry against this exposition,

that Jasper was fain to put his fingers in his ears, and to run out of

the apartment.

"Hear to him," said an old whigamore carline--"hear to him, wi' his

owsen, that are as an idol to him, even as the calf of Bethel! Na,

na--it's nae pleugh of the flesh that the bonny lad-bairn--for a lad it

sall be--sall e'er striddle between the stilts o'--it's the pleugh of

the spirit--and I trust mysell to see him wag the head o' him in a

pu'pit; or, what's better, on a hill-side."

"Now the deil's in your whiggery," said the old Lady Glenprosing; "wad

ye hae our cummer's bonny lad-bairn wag the head aff his shouthers like

your godly Mess James Guthrie,(_g_) that ye hald such a clavering

about?--Na, na, he sall walk a mair siccar path, and be a dainty

curate--and say he should live to be a bishop, what the waur wad he be?"

The gauntlet thus fairly flung down by one sibyl, was caught up by

another, and the controversy between presbytery and episcopacy raged,

roared, or rather screamed, a round of cinnamon-water serving only like

oil to the flame, till Jasper entered with the plough-staff; and by the

awe of his presence, and the shame of misbehaving "before the stranger

man," imposed some conditions of silence upon the disputants.

I do not know whether it was impatience to give to the light a being

destined to such high and doubtful fates, or whether poor Dame Yellowley

was rather frightened at the hurly-burly which had taken place in her

presence, but she was taken suddenly ill; and, contrary to the formula

in such cases used and provided, was soon reported to be "a good deal

worse than was to be expected." She took the opportunity (having still

all her wits about her) to extract from her sympathetic husband two

promises; first, that he would christen the child, whose birth was like

to cost her so dear, by a name indicative of the vision with which she

had been favoured; and next, that he would educate him for the ministry.

The canny Yorkshireman, thinking she had a good title at present to

dictate in such matters, subscribed to all she required. A man-child was

accordingly born under these conditions, but the state of the mother did

not permit her for many days to enquire how far they had been complied

with. When she was in some degree convalescent, she was informed, that

as it was thought fit the child should be immediately christened, it had

received the name of Triptolemus; the Curate, who was a man of some

classical skill, conceiving that this epithet contained a handsome and

classical allusion to the visionary plough, with its triple yoke of

oxen. Mrs. Yellowley was not much delighted with the manner in which her

request had been complied with; but grumbling being to as little purpose

as in the celebrated case of Tristram Shandy, she e'en sat down

contented with the heathenish name, and endeavoured to counteract the

effects it might produce upon the taste and feelings of the nominee, by

such an education as might put him above the slightest thought of sacks,

coulters, stilts, mould-boards, or any thing connected with the servile

drudgery of the plough.

Jasper, sage Yorkshireman, smiled slyly in his sleeve, conceiving that

young Trippie was likely to prove a chip of the old block, and would

rather take after the jolly Yorkshire yeoman, than the gentle but

somewhat _aigre_ blood of the house of Clinkscale. He remarked, with

suppressed glee, that the tune which best answered the purpose of a

lullaby was the "Ploughman's Whistle," and the first words the infant

learned to stammer were the names of the oxen; moreover, that the "bern"

preferred home-brewed ale to Scotch twopenny, and never quitted hold of

the tankard with so much reluctance as when there had been, by some

manoeuvre of Jasper's own device, a double straik of malt allowed to the

brewing, above that which was sanctioned by the most liberal recipe, of

which his dame's household thrift admitted. Besides this, when no other

means could be fallen upon to divert an occasional fit of squalling, his

father observed that Trip could be always silenced by jingling a bridle

at his ear. From all which symptoms he used to swear in private, that

the boy would prove true Yorkshire, and mother and mother's kin would

have small share of him.

Meanwhile, and within a year after the birth of Triptolemus, Mrs.

Yellowley bore a daughter, named after herself Barbara, who, even in

earliest infancy, exhibited the pinched nose and thin lips by which the

Clinkscale family were distinguished amongst the inhabitants of the

Mearns; and as her childhood advanced, the readiness with which she

seized, and the tenacity wherewith she detained, the playthings of

Triptolemus, besides a desire to bite, pinch, and scratch, on slight, or

no provocation, were all considered by attentive observers as proofs,

that Miss Babie would prove "her mother over again." Malicious people

did not stick to say, that the acrimony of the Clinkscale blood had not,

on this occasion, been cooled and sweetened by that of Old England;

that young Deilbelicket was much about the house, and they could not but

think it odd that Mrs. Yellowley, who, as the whole world knew, gave

nothing for nothing, should be so uncommonly attentive to heap the

trencher, and to fill the caup, of an idle blackguard ne'er-do-weel. But

when folk had once looked upon the austere and awfully virtuous

countenance of Mrs. Yellowley, they did full justice to her propriety of

conduct, and Deilbelicket's delicacy of taste.

Meantime young Triptolemus, having received such instructions as the

Curate could give him, (for though Dame Yellowley adhered to the

persecuted remnant, her jolly husband, edified by the black gown and

prayer-book, still conformed to the church as by law established,) was,

in due process of time, sent to Saint Andrews to prosecute his studies.

He went, it is true; but with an eye turned back with sad remembrances

on his father's plough, his father's pancakes, and his father's ale, for

which the small-beer of the college, commonly there termed

"thorough-go-nimble," furnished a poor substitute. Yet he advanced in

his learning, being found, however, to show a particular favour to such

authors of antiquity as had made the improvement of the soil the object

of their researches. He endured the Bucolics of Virgil--the Georgics he

had by heart--but the Æneid he could not away with; and he was

particularly severe upon the celebrated line expressing a charge of

cavalry, because, as he understood the word _putrem_,[21] he opined that

the combatants, in their inconsiderate ardour, galloped over a

new-manured ploughed field. Cato, the Roman Censor was his favourite

among classical heroes and philosophers, not on account of the

strictness of his morals, but because of his treatise, _de Re Rustica_.

He had ever in his mouth the phrase of Cicero, _Jam neminem antepones

Catoni_. He thought well of Palladius, and of Terentius Varro, but

Columella was his pocket-companion. To these ancient worthies, he added

the more modern Tusser, Hartlib, and other writers on rural economics,

not forgetting the lucubrations of the Shepherd of Salisbury Plain, and

such of the better-informed Philomaths, who, instead of loading their

almanacks with vain predictions of political events, pretended to see

what seeds would grow and what would not, and direct the attention of

their readers to that course of cultivation from which the production of

good crops may be safely predicted; modest sages, in fine, who, careless

of the rise and downfall of empires, content themselves with pointing

out the fit seasons to reap and sow, with a fair guess at the weather

which each month will be likely to present; as, for example, that if

Heaven pleases, we shall have snow in January, and the author will stake

his reputation that July proves, on the whole, a month of sunshine. Now,

although the Rector of Saint Leonard's was greatly pleased, in general,

with the quiet, laborious, and studious bent of Triptolemus Yellowley,

and deemed him, in so far, worthy of a name of four syllables having a

Latin termination, yet he relished not, by any means, his exclusive

attention to his favourite authors. It savoured of the earth, he said,

if not of something worse, to have a man's mind always grovelling in

mould, stercorated or unstercorated; and he pointed out, but in vain,

history, and poetry, and divinity, as more elevating subjects of

occupation. Triptolemus Yellowley was obstinate in his own course: Of

the battle of Pharsalia, he thought not as it affected the freedom of

the world, but dwelt on the rich crop which the Emathian fields were

likely to produce the next season. In vernacular poetry, Triptolemus

could scarce be prevailed upon to read a single couplet, excepting old

Tusser, as aforesaid, whose Hundred Points of Good Husbandry he had got

by heart; and excepting also Piers Ploughman's Vision, which, charmed

with the title, he bought with avidity from a packman, but after reading

the two first pages, flung it into the fire as an impudent and misnamed

political libel. As to divinity, he summed that matter up by reminding

his instructors, that to labour the earth and win his bread with the

toil of his body and sweat of his brow, was the lot imposed upon fallen

man; and, for his part, he was resolved to discharge, to the best of his

abilities, a task so obviously necessary to existence, leaving others to

speculate as much as they would, upon the more recondite mysteries of

theology.

With a spirit so much narrowed and limited to the concerns of rural

life, it may be doubted whether the proficiency of Triptolemus in

learning, or the use he was like to make of his acquisitions, would have

much gratified the ambitious hope of his affectionate mother. It is

true, he expressed no reluctance to embrace the profession of a

clergyman, which suited well enough with the habitual personal indolence

which sometimes attaches to speculative dispositions. He had views, to

speak plainly, (I wish they were peculiar to himself,) of cultivating

the _glebe_ six days in the week, preaching on the seventh with due

regularity, and dining with some fat franklin or country laird, with

whom he could smoke a pipe and drink a tankard after dinner, and mix in

secret conference on the exhaustless subject,

Quid faciat lætas segetes.

Now, this plan, besides that it indicated nothing of what was then

called the root of the matter, implied necessarily the possession of a

manse; and the possession of a manse inferred compliance with the

doctrines of prelacy, and other enormities of the time. There was some

question how far manse and glebe, stipend, both victual and money, might

have outbalanced the good lady's predisposition towards Presbytery; but

her zeal was not put to so severe a trial. She died before her son had

completed his studies, leaving her afflicted spouse just as disconsolate

as was to be expected. The first act of old Jasper's undivided

administration was to recall his son from Saint Andrews, in order to

obtain his assistance in his domestic labours. And here it might have

been supposed that our Triptolemus, summoned to carry into practice what

he had so fondly studied in theory, must have been, to use a simile

which _he_ would have thought lively, like a cow entering upon a clover

park. Alas, mistaken thoughts, and deceitful hopes of mankind!

A laughing philosopher, the Democritus of our day, once, in a moral

lecture, compared human life to a table pierced with a number of holes,

each of which has a pin made exactly to fit it, but which pins being

stuck in hastily, and without selection, chance leads inevitably to the

most awkward mistakes. "For how often do we see," the orator

pathetically concluded,--"how often, I say, do we see the round man

stuck into the three-cornered hole!" This new illustration of the

vagaries of fortune set every one present into convulsions of laughter,

excepting one fat alderman, who seemed to make the case his own, and

insisted that it was no jesting matter. To take up the simile, however,

which is an excellent one, it is plain that Triptolemus Yellowley had

been shaken out of the bag at least a hundred years too soon. If he had

come on the stage in our own time, that is, if he had flourished at any

time within these thirty or forty years, he could not have missed to

have held the office of vice-president of some eminent agricultural

society, and to have transacted all the business thereof under the

auspices of some noble duke or lord, who, as the matter might happen,

either knew, or did not know, the difference betwixt a horse and a cart,

and a cart-horse. He could not have missed such preferment, for he was

exceedingly learned in all those particulars, which, being of no

consequence in actual practice, go, of course, a great way to constitute

the character of a connoisseur in any art, and especially in

agriculture. But, alas! Triptolemus Yellowley had, as we already have

hinted, come into the world at least a century too soon; for, instead of

sitting in an arm-chair, with a hammer in his hand, and a bumper of port

before him, giving forth the toast,--"To breeding, in all its branches,"

his father planted him betwixt the stilts of a plough, and invited him

to guide the oxen, on whose beauties he would, in our day, have

descanted, and whose rumps he would not have goaded, but have carved.

Old Jasper complained, that although no one talked so well of common and

several, wheat and rape, fallow and lea, as his learned son, (whom he

always called Tolimus,) yet, "dang it," added the Seneca, "nought

thrives wi' un--nought thrives wi' un!" It was still worse, when Jasper,

becoming frail and ancient, was obliged, as happened in the course of a

few years, gradually to yield up the reins of government to the

academical neophyte.

As if Nature had meant him a spite, he had got one of the _dourest_ and

most intractable farms in the Mearns, to try conclusions withal, a place

which seemed to yield every thing but what the agriculturist wanted; for

there were plenty of thistles, which indicates dry land; and store of

fern, which is said to intimate deep land; and nettles, which show where

lime hath been applied; and deep furrows in the most unlikely spots,

which intimated that it had been cultivated in former days by the

Peghts, as popular tradition bore. There was also enough of stones to

keep the ground warm, according to the creed of some farmers, and great

abundance of springs to render it cool and sappy, according to the

theory of others. It was in vain that, acting alternately on these

opinions, poor Triptolemus endeavoured to avail himself of the supposed

capabilities of the soil. No kind of butter that might be churned could

be made to stick upon his own bread, any more than on that of poor

Tusser, whose Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, so useful to others of

his day, were never to himself worth as many pennies.[22]

In fact, excepting an hundred acres of infield, to which old Jasper had

early seen the necessity of limiting his labours, there was not a

corner of the farm fit for any thing but to break plough-graith, and

kill cattle. And then, as for the part which was really tilled with some

profit, the expense of the farming establishment of Triptolemus, and his

disposition to experiment, soon got rid of any good arising from the

cultivation of it. "The carles and the cart-avers," he confessed, with a

sigh, speaking of his farm-servants and horses, "make it all, and the

carles and cart-avers eat it all;" a conclusion which might sum up the

year-book of many a gentleman farmer.

Matters would have soon been brought to a close with Triptolemus in the

present day. He would have got a bank-credit, manoeuvred with

wind-bills, dashed out upon a large scale, and soon have seen his crop

and stock sequestered by the Sheriff; but in those days a man could not

ruin himself so easily. The whole Scottish tenantry stood upon the same

level flat of poverty, so that it was extremely difficult to find any

vantage ground, by climbing up to which a man might have an opportunity

of actually breaking his neck with some eclat. They were pretty much in

the situation of people, who, being totally without credit, may indeed

suffer from indigence, but cannot possibly become bankrupt. Besides,

notwithstanding the failure of Triptolemus's projects, there was to be

balanced against the expenditure which they occasioned, all the savings

which the extreme economy of his sister Barbara could effect; and in

truth her exertions were wonderful. She might have realized, if any one

could, the idea of the learned philosopher, who pronounced that sleeping

was a fancy, and eating but a habit, and who appeared to the world to

have renounced both, until it was unhappily discovered that he had an

intrigue with the cook-maid of the family, who indemnified him for his

privations by giving him private entrée to the pantry, and to a share of

her own couch. But no such deceptions were practised by Barbara

Yellowley. She was up early, and down late, and seemed, to her

over-watched and over-tasked maidens, to be as _wakerife_ as the cat

herself. Then, for eating, it appeared that the air was a banquet to

her, and she would fain have made it so to her retinue. Her brother,

who, besides being lazy in his person, was somewhat luxurious in his

appetite, would willingly now and then have tasted a mouthful of animal

food, were it but to know how his sheep were fed off; but a proposal to

eat a child could not have startled Mistress Barbara more; and, being of

a compliant and easy disposition, Triptolemus reconciled himself to the

necessity of a perpetual Lent, too happy when he could get a scrap of

butter to his oaten cake, or (as they lived on the banks of the Esk)

escape the daily necessity of eating salmon, whether in or out of

season, six days out of the seven.

But although Mrs. Barbara brought faithfully to the joint stock all

savings which her awful powers of economy accomplished to scrape

together, and although the dower of their mother was by degrees

expended, or nearly so, in aiding them upon extreme occasions, the term

at length approached when it seemed impossible that they could sustain

the conflict any longer against the evil star of Triptolemus, as he

called it himself, or the natural result of his absurd speculations, as

it was termed by others. Luckily at this sad crisis, a god jumped down

to their relief out of a machine. In plain English, the noble lord, who

owned their farm, arrived at his mansion-house in their neighbourhood,

with his coach and six and his running footmen, in the full splendour

of the seventeenth century.

This person of quality was the son of the nobleman who had brought the

ancient Jasper into the country from Yorkshire, and he was, like his

father, a fanciful and scheming man.[23] He had schemed well for

himself, however, amid the mutations of the time, having obtained, for a

certain period of years, the administration of the remote islands of

Orkney and Zetland, for payment of a certain rent, with the right of

making the most of whatever was the property or revenue of the crown in

these districts, under the title of Lord Chamberlain. Now, his lordship

had become possessed with a notion, in itself a very true one, that much

might be done to render this grant available, by improving the culture

of the crown lands, both in Orkney and Zetland; and then having some

acquaintance with our friend Triptolemus, he thought (rather less

happily) that he might prove a person capable of furthering his schemes.

He sent for him to the great Hallhouse, and was so much edified by the

way in which our friend laid down the law upon every given subject

relating to rural economy, that he lost no time in securing the

co-operation of so valuable an assistant, the first step being to

release him from his present unprofitable farm.

The terms were arranged much to the mind of Triptolemus, who had already

been taught, by many years' experience, a dark sort of notion, that

without undervaluing or doubting for a moment his own skill, it would be

quite as well that almost all the trouble and risk should be at the

expense of his employer. Indeed, the hopes of advantage which he held

out to his patron were so considerable, that the Lord Chamberlain

dropped every idea of admitting his dependent into any share of the

expected profits; for, rude as the arts of agriculture were in Scotland,

they were far superior to those known and practised in the regions of

Thule, and Triptolemus Yellowley conceived himself to be possessed of a

degree of insight into these mysteries, far superior to what was

possessed or practised even in the Mearns. The improvement, therefore,

which was to be expected, would bear a double proportion, and the Lord

Chamberlain was to reap all the profit, deducting a handsome salary for

his steward Yellowley, together with the accommodation of a house and

domestic farm, for the support of his family. Joy seized the heart of

Mistress Barbara, at hearing this happy termination of what threatened

to be so very bad an affair as the lease of Cauldacres.

"If we cannot," she said, "provide for our own house, when all is coming

in, and nothing going out, surely we must be worse than infidels!"

Triptolemus was a busy man for some time, huffing and puffing, and

eating and drinking in every changehouse, while he ordered and collected

together proper implements of agriculture, to be used by the natives of

these devoted islands, whose destinies were menaced with this formidable

change. Singular tools these would seem, if presented before a modern

agricultural society; but every thing is relative, nor could the heavy

cartload of timber, called the old Scots plough, seem less strange to a

Scottish farmer of this present day, than the corslets and casques of

the soldiers of Cortes might seem to a regiment of our own army. Yet the

latter conquered Mexico, and undoubtedly the former would have been a

splendid improvement on the state of agriculture in Thule.

We have never been able to learn why Triptolemus preferred fixing his

residence in Zetland, to becoming an inhabitant of the Orkneys. Perhaps

he thought the inhabitants of the latter Archipelago the more simple and

docile of the two kindred tribes; or perhaps he considered the situation

of the house and farm he himself was to occupy, (which was indeed a

tolerable one,) as preferable to that which he had it in his power to

have obtained upon Pomona (so the main island of the Orkneys is

entitled). At Harfra, or, as it was sometimes called, Stourburgh, from

the remains of a Pictish fort, which was almost close to the

mansion-house, the factor settled himself, in the plenitude of his

authority; determined to honour the name he bore by his exertions, in

precept and example, to civilize the Zetlanders, and improve their very

confined knowledge in the primary arts of human life.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] The cormorant; which may be seen frequently dashing in wild flight

along the roosts and tides of Zetland, and yet more often drawn up in

ranks on some ledge of rock, like a body of the Black Brunswickers in

181.

[20] _i. e._ Gossips.

[21] Quadrupedumque putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.

[22] This is admitted by the English agriculturist:--

"My music since has been the plough,

Entangled with some care among;

The gain not great, the pain enough,

Hath made me sing another song."

[23] GOVERNMENT OF ZETLAND.--At the period supposed, the Earls of Morton

held the islands of Orkney and Zetland, originally granted in 1643,

confirmed in 1707, and rendered absolute in 1742. This gave the family

much property and influence, which they usually exercised by factors,

named chamberlains. In 1766 this property was sold by the then Earl of

Morton to Sir Lawrence Dundas, by whose son, Lord Dundas, it is now

held.

CHAPTER V.

The wind blew keen frae north and east;

It blew upon the floor.

Quo' our goodman to our goodwife,

"Get up and bar the door."

"My hand is in my housewife-skep,

Goodman, as ye may see;

If it shouldna be barr'd this hundred years,

It's no be barr'd for me!"

_Old Song._

We can only hope that the gentle reader has not found the latter part of

the last chapter extremely tedious; but, at any rate, his impatience

will scarce equal that of young Mordaunt Mertoun, who, while the

lightning came flash after flash, while the wind, veering and shifting

from point to point, blew with all the fury of a hurricane, and while

the rain was dashed against him in deluges, stood hammering, calling,

and roaring at the door of the old Place of Harfra, impatient for

admittance, and at a loss to conceive any position of existing

circumstances, which could occasion the exclusion of a stranger,

especially during such horrible weather. At length, finding his noise

and vociferation were equally in vain, he fell back so far from the

front of the house, as was necessary to enable him to reconnoitre the

chimneys; and amidst "storm and shade," could discover, to the increase

of his dismay, that though noon, then the dinner hour of these islands,

was now nearly arrived, there was no smoke proceeding from the tunnels

of the vents to give any note of preparation within.

Mordaunt's wrathful impatience was now changed into sympathy and alarm;

for, so long accustomed to the exuberant hospitality of the Zetland

islands, he was immediately induced to suppose some strange and

unaccountable disaster had befallen the family; and forthwith set

himself to discover some place at which he could make forcible entry, in

order to ascertain the situation of the inmates, as much as to obtain

shelter from the still increasing storm. His present anxiety was,

however, as much thrown away as his late clamorous importunities for

admittance had been. Triptolemus and his sister had heard the whole

alarm without, and had already had a sharp dispute on the propriety of

opening the door.

Mrs. Baby, as we have described her, was no willing renderer of the

rites of hospitality. In their farm of Cauldacres, in the Mearns, she

had been the dread and abhorrence of all gaberlunzie men, and travelling

packmen, gipsies, long remembered beggars, and so forth; nor was there

one of them so wily, as she used to boast, as could ever say they had

heard the clink of her sneck. In Zetland, where the new settlers were

yet strangers to the extreme honesty and simplicity of all classes,

suspicion and fear joined with frugality in her desire to exclude all

wandering guests of uncertain character; and the second of these motives

had its effect on Triptolemus himself, who, though neither suspicious

nor penurious, knew good people were scarce, good farmers scarcer, and

had a reasonable share of that wisdom which looks towards

self-preservation as the first law of nature. These hints may serve as

a commentary on the following dialogue which took place betwixt the

brother and sister.

"Now, good be gracious to us," said Triptolemus, as he sat thumbing his

old school-copy of Virgil, "here is a pure day, for the bear seed!--Well

spoke the wise Mantuan--_ventis surgentibus_--and then the groans of the

mountains, and the long-resounding shores--but where's the woods, Baby?

tell me, I say, where we shall find the _nemorum murmur_, sister Baby,

in these new seats of ours?"

"What's your foolish will?" said Baby, popping her head from out of a

dark recess in the kitchen, where she was busy about some nameless deed

of housewifery.

Her brother, who had addressed himself to her more from habit than

intention, no sooner saw her bleak red nose, keen grey eyes, with the

sharp features thereunto conforming, shaded by the flaps of the loose

_toy_ which depended on each side of her eager face, than he bethought

himself that his query was likely to find little acceptation from her,

and therefore stood another volley before he would resume the topic.

"I say, Mr. Yellowley," said sister Baby, coming into the middle of the

room, "what for are ye crying on me, and me in the midst of my

housewifeskep?"

"Nay, for nothing at all, Baby," answered Triptolemus, "saving that I

was saying to myself, that here we had the sea, and the wind, and the

rain, sufficient enough, but where's the wood? where's the wood, Baby,

answer me that?"

"The wood?" replied Baby--"Were I no to take better care of the wood

than you, brother, there would soon be no more wood about the town than

the barber's block that's on your own shoulders, Triptolemus. If ye be

thinking of the wreck-wood that the callants brought in yesterday, there

was six ounces of it gaed to boil your parritch this morning; though, I

trow, a carefu' man wad have ta'en drammock, if breakfast he behoved to

have, rather than waste baith meltith and fuel in the same morning."

"That is to say, Baby," replied Triptolemus, who was somewhat of a dry

joker in his way, "that when we have fire we are not to have food, and

when we have food we are not to have fire, these being too great

blessings to enjoy both in the same day! Good luck, you do not propose

we should starve with cold and starve with hunger _unico contextu_. But,

to tell you the truth, I could never away with raw oatmeal, slockened

with water, in all my life. Call it drammock, or crowdie, or just what

ye list, my vivers must thole fire and water."

"The mair gowk you," said Baby; "can ye not make your brose on the

Sunday, and sup them cauld on the Monday, since ye're sae dainty? Mony

is the fairer face than yours that has licked the lip after such a

cogfu'."

"Mercy on us, sister!" said Triptolemus; "at this rate, it's a finished

field with me--I must unyoke the pleugh, and lie down to wait for the

dead-thraw. Here is that in this house wad hold all Zetland in meal for

a twelvemonth, and ye grudge a cogfu' of warm parritch to me, that has

sic a charge!"

"Whisht--haud your silly clavering tongue!" said Baby, looking round

with apprehension--"ye are a wise man to speak of what is in the house,

and a fitting man to have the charge of it!--Hark, as I live by bread,

I hear a tapping at the outer yett!"

"Go and open it then, Baby," said her brother, glad at any thing that

promised to interrupt the dispute.

"Go and open it, said he!" echoed Baby, half angry, half frightened, and

half triumphant at the superiority of her understanding over that of her

brother--"Go and open it, said he, indeed!--is it to lend robbers a

chance to take all that is in the house?"

"Robbers!" echoed Triptolemus, in his turn; "there are no more robbers

in this country than there are lambs at Yule. I tell you, as I have told

you an hundred times, there are no Highlandmen to harry us here. This is

a land of quiet and honesty. _O fortunati nimium!_"

"And what good is Saint Rinian to do ye, Tolimus?" said his sister,

mistaking the quotation for a Catholic invocation. "Besides, if there be

no Highlandmen, there may be as bad. I saw sax or seven as ill-looking

chields gang past the Place yesterday, as ever came frae beyont

Clochna-ben; ill-fa'red tools they had in their hands, whaaling knives

they ca'ed them, but they looked as like dirks and whingers as ae bit

airn can look like anither. There is nae honest men carry siccan tools."

Here the knocking and shouts of Mordaunt were very audible betwixt every

swell of the horrible blast which was careering without. The brother and

sister looked at each other in real perplexity and fear. "If they have

heard of the siller," said Baby, her very nose changing with terror from

red to blue, "we are but gane folk!"

"Who speaks now, when they should hold their tongue?" said Triptolemus.

"Go to the shot-window instantly, and see how many there are of them,

while I load the old Spanish-barrelled duck-gun--go as if you were

stepping on new-laid eggs."

Baby crept to the window, and reported that she saw only "one young

chield, clattering and roaring as gin he were daft. How many there might

be out of sight, she could not say."

"Out of sight!--nonsense," said Triptolemus, laying aside the ramrod

with which he was loading the piece, with a trembling hand. "I will

warrant them out of sight and hearing both--this is some poor fellow

catched in the tempest, wants the shelter of our roof, and a little

refreshment. Open the door, Baby, it's a Christian deed."

"But is it a Christian deed of him to come in at the window, then?" said

Baby, setting up a most doleful shriek, as Mordaunt Mertoun, who had

forced open one of the windows, leaped down into the apartment, dripping

with water like a river god. Triptolemus, in great tribulation,

presented the gun which he had not yet loaded, while the intruder

exclaimed, "Hold, hold--what the devil mean you by keeping your doors

bolted in weather like this, and levelling your gun at folk's heads as

you would at a sealgh's?"

"And who are you, friend, and what want you?" said Triptolemus, lowering

the but of his gun to the floor as he spoke, and so recovering his arms.

"What do I want!" said Mordaunt; "I want every thing--I want meat,

drink, and fire, a bed for the night, and a sheltie for to-morrow

morning to carry me to Jarlshof."

"And ye said there were nae caterans or sorners here?" said Baby to the

agriculturist, reproachfully. "Heard ye ever a breekless loon frae

Lochaber tell his mind and his errand mair deftly?--Come, come, friend,"

she added, addressing herself to Mordaunt, "put up your pipes and gang

your gate; this is the house of his lordship's factor, and no place of

reset for thiggers or sorners."

Mordaunt laughed in her face at the simplicity of the request. "Leave

built walls," he said, "and in such a tempest as this? What take you me

for?--a gannet or a scart do you think I am, that your clapping your

hands and skirling at me like a madwoman, should drive me from the

shelter into the storm?"

"And so you propose, young man," said Triptolemus, gravely, "to stay in

my house, _volens nolens_--that is, whether we will or no?"

"Will!" said Mordaunt; "what right have you to will any thing about it?

Do you not hear the thunder? Do you not hear the rain? Do you not see

the lightning? And do you not know this is the only house within I wot

not how many miles? Come, my good master and dame, this may be Scottish

jesting, but it sounds strange in Zetland ears. You have let out the

fire, too, and my teeth are dancing a jig in my head with cold; but I'll

soon put that to rights."

He seized the fire-tongs, raked together the embers upon the hearth,

broke up into life the gathering-peat, which the hostess had calculated

should have preserved the seeds of fire, without giving them forth, for

many hours; then casting his eye round, saw in a corner the stock of

drift-wood, which Mistress Baby had served forth by ounces, and

transferred two or three logs of it at once to the hearth, which,

conscious of such unwonted supply, began to transmit to the chimney

such a smoke as had not issued from the Place of Harfra for many a day.

While their uninvited guest was thus making himself at home, Baby kept

edging and jogging the factor to turn out the intruder. But for this

undertaking, Triptolemus Yellowley felt neither courage nor zeal, nor

did circumstances seem at all to warrant the favourable conclusion of

any fray into which he might enter with the young stranger. The sinewy

limbs and graceful form of Mordaunt Mertoun were seen to great advantage

in his simple sea-dress; and with his dark sparkling eye, finely formed

head, animated features, close curled dark hair, and bold, free looks,

the stranger formed a very strong contrast with the host on whom he had

intruded himself. Triptolemus was a short, clumsy, duck-legged disciple

of Ceres, whose bottle-nose, turned up and handsomely coppered at the

extremity, seemed to intimate something of an occasional treaty with

Bacchus. It was like to be no equal mellay betwixt persons of such

unequal form and strength; and the difference betwixt twenty and fifty

years was nothing in favour of the weaker party. Besides, the factor was

an honest good-natured fellow at bottom, and being soon satisfied that

his guest had no other views than those of obtaining refuge from the

storm, it would, despite his sister's instigations, have been his last

act to deny a boon so reasonable and necessary to a youth whose exterior

was so prepossessing. He stood, therefore, considering how he could most

gracefully glide into the character of the hospitable landlord, out of

that of the churlish defender of his domestic castle, against an

unauthorized intrusion, when Baby, who had stood appalled at the extreme

familiarity of the stranger's address and demeanour, now spoke up for

herself.

"My troth, lad," said she to Mordaunt, "ye are no blate, to light on at

that rate, and the best of wood, too--nane of your sharney peats, but

good aik timber, nae less maun serve ye!"

"You come lightly by it, dame," said Mordaunt, carelessly; "and you

should not grudge to the fire what the sea gives you for nothing. These

good ribs of oak did their last duty upon earth and ocean, when they

could hold no longer together under the brave hearts that manned the

bark."

"And that's true, too," said the old woman, softening--"this maun be

awsome weather by sea. Sit down and warm ye, since the sticks are

a-low."

"Ay, ay," said Triptolemus, "it is a pleasure to see siccan a bonny

bleeze. I havena seen the like o't since I left Cauldacres."

"And shallna see the like o't again in a hurry," said Baby, "unless the

house take fire, or there suld be a coal-heugh found out."

"And wherefore should not there be a coal-heugh found out?" said the

factor, triumphantly--"I say, wherefore should not a coal-heugh be found

out in Zetland as well as in Fife, now that the Chamberlain has a

far-sighted and discreet man upon the spot to make the necessary

perquisitions? They are baith fishing-stations, I trow?"

"I tell you what it is, Tolemus Yellowley," answered his sister, who had

practical reasons to fear her brother's opening upon any false scent,

"if you promise my Lord sae mony of these bonnie-wallies, we'll no be

weel hafted here before we are found out and set a-trotting again. If

ane was to speak to ye about a gold mine, I ken weel wha would promise

he suld have Portugal pieces clinking in his pouch before the year gaed

by."

"And why suld I not?" said Triptolemus--"maybe your head does not know

there is a land in Orkney called Ophir, or something very like it; and

wherefore might not Solomon, the wise King of the Jews, have sent

thither his ships and his servants for four hundred and fifty talents? I

trow he knew best where to go or send, and I hope you believe in your

Bible, Baby?"

Baby was silenced by an appeal to Scripture, however _mal à propos_, and

only answered by an inarticulate _humph_ of incredulity or scorn, while

her brother went on addressing Mordaunt.--"Yes, you shall all of you see

what a change shall coin introduce, even into such an unpropitious

country as yours. Ye have not heard of copper, I warrant, nor of

iron-stone, in these islands, neither?" Mordaunt said he had heard there

was copper near the Cliffs of Konigsburgh. "Ay, and a copper scum is

found on the Loch of Swana, too, young man. But the youngest of you,

doubtless, thinks himself a match for such as I am!"

Baby, who during all this while had been closely and accurately

reconnoitring the youth's person, now interposed in a manner by her

brother totally unexpected. "Ye had mair need, Mr. Yellowley, to give

the young man some dry clothes, and to see about getting something for

him to eat, than to sit there bleezing away with your lang tales, as if

the weather were not windy enow without your help; and maybe the lad

would drink some _bland_, or sic-like, if ye had the grace to ask him."

While Triptolemus looked astonished at such a proposal, considering the

quarter it came from, Mordaunt answered, he "should be very glad to

have dry clothes, but begged to be excused from drinking until he had

eaten somewhat."

Triptolemus accordingly conducted him into another apartment, and

accommodating him with a change of dress, left him to his arrangements,

while he himself returned to the kitchen, much puzzled to account for

his sister's unusual fit of hospitality. "She must be _fey_,"[24] he

said, "and in that case has not long to live, and though I fall heir to

her tocher-good, I am sorry for it; for she has held the house-gear well

together--drawn the girth over tight it may be now and then, but the

saddle sits the better."

When Triptolemus returned to the kitchen, he found his suspicions

confirmed; for his sister was in the desperate act of consigning to the

pot a smoked goose, which, with others of the same tribe, had long hung

in the large chimney, muttering to herself at the same time,--"It maun

be eaten sune or syne, and what for no by the puir callant?"

"What is this of it, sister?" said Triptolemus. "You have on the girdle

and the pot at ance. What day is this wi' you?"

"E'en such a day as the Israelites had beside the flesh-pots of Egypt,

billie Triptolemus; but ye little ken wha ye have in your house this

blessed day."

"Troth, and little do I ken," said Triptolemus, "as little as I would

ken the naig I never saw before. I would take the lad for a jagger,[25]

but he has rather ower good havings, and he has no pack."

"Ye ken as little as ane of your ain bits o' nowt, man," retorted sister

Baby; "if ye ken na him, do ye ken Tronda Dronsdaughter?"

"Tronda Dronsdaughter!" echoed Triptolemus--"how should I but ken her,

when I pay her twal pennies Scots by the day, for working in the house

here? I trow she works as if the things burned her fingers. I had better

give a Scots lass a groat of English siller."

"And that's the maist sensible word ye have said this blessed

morning.--Weel, but Tronda kens this lad weel, and she has often spoke

to me about him. They call his father the Silent Man of Sumburgh, and

they say he's uncanny."

"Hout, hout--nonsense, nonsense--they are aye at sic trash as that,"

said the brother, "when you want a day's wark out of them--they have

stepped ower the tangs, or they have met an uncanny body, or they have

turned about the boat against the sun, and then there's nought to be

done that day."

"Weel, weel, brother, ye are so wise," said Baby, "because ye knapped

Latin at Saint Andrews; and can your lair tell me, then, what the lad

has round his halse?"

"A Barcelona napkin, as wet as a dishclout, and I have just lent him one

of my own overlays," said Triptolemus.

"A Barcelona napkin!" said Baby, elevating her voice, and then suddenly

lowering it, as from apprehension of being overheard--"I say a gold

chain!"

"A gold chain!" said Triptolemus.

"In troth is it, hinny; and how like you that? The folk say here, as

Tronda tells me, that the King of the Drows gave it to his father, the

Silent Man of Sumburgh."

"I wish you would speak sense, or be the silent woman," said

Triptolemus. "The upshot of it all is, then, that this lad is the rich

stranger's son, and that you are giving him the goose you were to keep

till Michaelmas!"

"Troth, brother, we maun do something for God's sake, and to make

friends; and the lad," added Baby, (for even she was not altogether

above the prejudices of her sex in favour of outward form,) "the lad has

a fair face of his ain."

"Ye would have let mony a fair face," said Triptolemus, "pass the door

pining, if it had not been for the gold chain."

"Nae doubt, nae doubt," replied Barbara; "ye wadna have me waste our

substance on every thigger or sorner that has the luck to come by the

door in a wet day? But this lad has a fair and a wide name in the

country, and Tronda says he is to be married to a daughter of the rich

Udaller, Magnus Troil, and the marriage-day is to be fixed whenever he

makes choice (set him up) between the twa lasses; and so it wad be as

much as our good name is worth, and our quiet forby, to let him sit

unserved, although he does come unsent for."

"The best reason in life," said Triptolemus, "for letting a man into a

house is, that you dare not bid him go by. However, since there is a man

of quality amongst them, I will let him know whom he has to do with, in

my person." Then advancing to the door, he exclaimed, "_Heus tibi,

Dave!_"

"_Adsum_," answered the youth, entering the apartment.

"Hem!" said the erudite Triptolemus, "not altogether deficient in his

humanities, I see. I will try him further.--Canst thou aught of

husbandry, young gentleman?"

"Troth, sir, not I," answered Mordaunt; "I have been trained to plough

upon the sea, and to reap upon the crag."

"Plough the sea!" said Triptolemus; "that's a furrow requires small

harrowing; and for your harvest on the crag, I suppose you mean these

_scowries_, or whatever you call them. It is a sort of ingathering which

the Ranzelman should stop by the law; nothing more likely to break an

honest man's bones. I profess I cannot see the pleasure men propose by

dangling in a rope's-end betwixt earth and heaven. In my case, I had as

lief the other end of the rope were fastened to the gibbet; I should be

sure of not falling, at least."

"Now, I would only advise you to try it," replied Mordaunt. "Trust me,

the world has few grander sensations than when one is perched in midair

between a high-browed cliff and a roaring ocean, the rope by which you

are sustained seeming scarce stronger than a silken thread, and the

stone on which you have one foot steadied, affording such a breadth as

the kittywake might rest upon--to feel and know all this, with the full

confidence that your own agility of limb, and strength of head, can

bring you as safe off as if you had the wing of the gosshawk--this is

indeed being almost independent of the earth you tread on!"

Triptolemus stared at this enthusiastic description of an amusement

which had so few charms for him; and his sister, looking at the glancing

eye and elevated bearing of the young adventurer, answered, by

ejaculating, "My certie, lad, but ye are a brave chield!"

"A brave chield?" returned Yellowley,--"I say a brave goose, to be

flichtering and fleeing in the wind when he might abide upon _terra

firma_! But come, here's a goose that is more to the purpose, when once

it is well boiled. Get us trenchers and salt, Baby--but in truth it will

prove salt enough--a tasty morsel it is; but I think the Zetlanders be

the only folk in the world that think of running such risks to catch

geese, and then boiling them when they have done."

"To be sure," replied his sister, (it was the only word they had agreed

in that day,) "it would be an unco thing to bid ony gudewife in Angus or

a' the Mearns boil a goose, while there was sic things as spits in the

warld.--But wha's this neist!" she added, looking towards the entrance

with great indignation. "My certie, open doors, and dogs come in--and

wha opened the door to him?"

"I did, to be sure," replied Mordaunt; "you would not have a poor devil

stand beating your deaf door-cheeks in weather like this?--Here goes

something, though, to help the fire," he added, drawing out the sliding

bar of oak with which the door had been secured, and throwing it on the

hearth, whence it was snatched by Dame Baby in great wrath, she

exclaiming at the same time,--

"It's sea-borne timber, as there's little else here, and he dings it

about as if it were a fir-clog!--And who be you, an it please you?" she

added, turning to the stranger,--"a very hallanshaker loon, as ever

crossed my twa een!"

"I am a jagger, if it like your ladyship," replied the uninvited guest,

a stout vulgar, little man, who had indeed the humble appearance of a

pedlar, called _jagger_ in these islands--"never travelled in a waur

day, or was more willing to get to harbourage.--Heaven be praised for

fire and house-room!"

So saying, he drew a stool to the fire, and sat down without further

ceremony. Dame Baby stared "wild as grey gosshawk," and was meditating

how to express her indignation in something warmer than words, for which

the boiling pot seemed to offer a convenient hint, when an old

half-starved serving-woman--the Tronda already mentioned--the sharer of

Barbara's domestic cares, who had been as yet in some remote corner of

the mansion, now hobbled into the room, and broke out into exclamations

which indicated some new cause of alarm.

"O master!" and "O mistress!" were the only sounds she could for some

time articulate, and then followed them up with, "The best in the

house--the best in the house--set a' on the board, and a' will be little

aneugh--There is auld Norna of Fitful-head, the most fearful woman in

all the isles!"

"Where can she have been wandering?" said Mordaunt, not without some

apparent sympathy with the surprise, if not with the alarm, of the old

domestic; "but it is needless to ask--the worse the weather, the more

likely is she to be a traveller."

"What new tramper is this?" echoed the distracted Baby, whom the quick

succession of guests had driven wellnigh crazy with vexation. "I'll soon

settle her wandering, I sall warrant, if my brother has but the saul of

a man in him, or if there be a pair of jougs at Scalloway!"

"The iron was never forged on stithy that would hauld her," said the old

maid-servant. "She comes--she comes--God's sake speak her fair and

canny, or we will have a ravelled hasp on the yarn-windles!"

As she spoke, a woman, tall enough almost to touch the top of the door

with her cap, stepped into the room, signing the cross as she entered,

and pronouncing, with a solemn voice, "The blessing of God and Saint

Ronald on the open door, and their broad malison and mine upon

close-handed churls!"

"And wha are ye, that are sae bauld wi' your blessing and banning in

other folk's houses? What kind of country is this, that folk cannot sit

quiet for an hour, and serve Heaven, and keep their bit gear thegither,

without gangrel men and women coming thigging and sorning ane after

another, like a string of wild-geese?"

This speech, the understanding reader will easily saddle on Mistress

Baby, and what effects it might have produced on the last stranger, can

only be matter of conjecture; for the old servant and Mordaunt applied

themselves at once to the party addressed, in order to deprecate her

resentment; the former speaking to her some words of Norse, in a tone of

intercession, and Mordaunt saying in English, "They are strangers,

Norna, and know not your name or qualities; they are unacquainted, too,

with the ways of this country, and therefore we must hold them excused

for their lack of hospitality."

"I lack no hospitality, young man," said Triptolemus, "_miseris

succurrere disco_--the goose that was destined to roost in the chimney

till Michaelmas, is boiling in the pot for you; but if we had twenty

geese, I see we are like to find mouths to eat them every feather--this

must be amended."

"What must be amended, sordid slave?" said the stranger Norna, turning

at once upon him with an emphasis that made him start--"_What_ must be

amended? Bring hither, if thou wilt, thy new-fangled coulters, spades,

and harrows, alter the implements of our fathers from the ploughshare to

the mouse-trap; but know thou art in the land that was won of old by the

flaxen-haired Kempions of the North, and leave us their hospitality at

least, to show we come of what was once noble and generous. I say to you

beware--while Norna looks forth at the measureless waters, from the

crest of Fitful-head, something is yet left that resembles power of

defence. If the men of Thule have ceased to be champions, and to spread

the banquet for the raven, the women have not forgotten the arts that

lifted them of yore into queens and prophetesses."

The woman who pronounced this singular tirade, was as striking in

appearance as extravagantly lofty in her pretensions and in her

language. She might well have represented on the stage, so far as

features, voice, and stature, were concerned, the Bonduca or Boadicea of

the Britons, or the sage Velleda, Aurinia, or any other fated Pythoness,

who ever led to battle a tribe of the ancient Goths. Her features were

high and well formed, and would have been handsome, but for the ravages

of time and the effects of exposure to the severe weather of her

country. Age, and perhaps sorrow, had quenched, in some degree, the fire

of a dark-blue eye, whose hue almost approached to black, and had

sprinkled snow on such parts of her tresses as had escaped from under

her cap, and were dishevelled by the rigour of the storm. Her upper

garment, which dropped with water, was of a coarse dark-coloured stuff,

called wadmaal, then much used in the Zetland islands, as also in

Iceland and Norway. But as she threw this cloak back from her

shoulders, a short jacket, of dark-blue velvet, stamped with figures,

became visible, and the vest, which corresponded to it, was of crimson

colour, and embroidered with tarnished silver. Her girdle was plated

with silver ornaments, cut into the shape of planetary signs--her blue

apron was embroidered with similar devices, and covered a petticoat of

crimson cloth. Strong thick enduring shoes, of the half-dressed leather

of the country, were tied with straps like those of the Roman buskins,

over her scarlet stockings. She wore in her belt an ambiguous-looking

weapon, which might pass for a sacrificing knife, or dagger, as the

imagination of the spectator chose to assign to the wearer the character

of a priestess or of a sorceress. In her hand she held a staff, squared

on all sides, and engraved with Runic characters and figures, forming

one of those portable and perpetual calendars which were used among the

ancient natives of Scandinavia, and which, to a superstitious eye, might

have passed for a divining rod.

Such were the appearance, features, and attire, of Norna of the

Fitful-head, upon whom many of the inhabitants of the island looked with

observance, many with fear, and almost all with a sort of veneration.

Less pregnant circumstances of suspicion would, in any other part of

Scotland, have exposed her to the investigation of those cruel

inquisitors, who were then often invested with the delegated authority

of the Privy Council, for the purpose of persecuting, torturing, and

finally consigning to the flames, those who were accused of witchcraft

or sorcery. But superstitions of this nature pass through two stages ere

they become entirely obsolete. Those supposed to be possessed of

supernatural powers, are venerated in the earlier stages of society. As

religion and knowledge increase, they are first held in hatred and

horror, and are finally regarded as impostors. Scotland was in the

second state--the fear of witchcraft was great, and the hatred against

those suspected of it intense. Zetland was as yet a little world by

itself, where, among the lower and ruder classes, so much of the ancient

northern superstition remained, as cherished the original veneration for

those affecting supernatural knowledge, and power over the elements,

which made a constituent part of the ancient Scandinavian creed. At

least if the natives of Thule admitted that one class of magicians

performed their feats by their alliance with Satan, they devoutly

believed that others dealt with spirits of a different and less odious

class--the ancient Dwarfs, called, in Zetland, Trows, or Drows, the

modern fairies, and so forth.

Among those who were supposed to be in league with disembodied spirits,

this Norna, descended from, and representative of, a family, which had

long pretended to such gifts, was so eminent, that the name assigned to

her, which signifies one of those fatal sisters who weave the web of

human fate, had been conferred in honour of her supernatural powers. The

name by which she had been actually christened was carefully concealed

by herself and her parents; for to its discovery they superstitiously

annexed some fatal consequences. In those times, the doubt only

occurred, whether her supposed powers were acquired by lawful means. In

our days, it would have been questioned whether she was an impostor, or

whether her imagination was so deeply impressed with the mysteries of

her supposed art, that she might be in some degree a believer in her

own pretensions to supernatural knowledge. Certain it is, that she

performed her part with such undoubting confidence, and such striking

dignity of look and action, and evinced, at the same time, such strength

of language, and energy of purpose, that it would have been difficult

for the greatest sceptic to have doubted the reality of her enthusiasm,

though he might smile at the pretensions to which it gave rise.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] When a person changes his condition suddenly, as when a miser

becomes liberal, or a churl good-humoured, he is said, in Scotch, to be

_fey_; that is, predestined to speedy death, of which such mutations of

humour are received as a sure indication.

[25] A pedlar.

CHAPTER VI.

----If, by your art, you have

Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.

_Tempest._

The storm had somewhat relaxed its rigour just before the entrance of

Norna, otherwise she must have found it impossible to travel during the

extremity of its fury. But she had hardly added herself so unexpectedly

to the party whom chance had assembled at the dwelling of Triptolemus

Yellowley, when the tempest suddenly resumed its former vehemence, and

raged around the building with a fury which made the inmates insensible

to any thing except the risk that the old mansion was about to fall

above their heads.

Mistress Baby gave vent to her fears in loud exclamations of "The Lord

guide us--this is surely the last day--what kind of a country of

guisards and gyre-carlines is this!--and you, ye fool carle," she added,

turning on her brother, (for all her passions had a touch of acidity in

them,) "to quit the bonny Mearns land to come here, where there is

naething but sturdy beggars and gaberlunzies within ane's house, and

Heaven's anger on the outside on't!"

"I tell you, sister Baby," answered the insulted agriculturist, "that

all shall be reformed and amended,--excepting," he added, betwixt his

teeth, "the scaulding humours of an ill-natured jaud, that can add

bitterness to the very storm!"

The old domestic and the pedlar meanwhile exhausted themselves in

entreaties to Norna, of which, as they were couched in the Norse

language, the master of the house understood nothing.

She listened to them with a haughty and unmoved air, and replied at

length aloud, and in English--"I will not. What if this house be strewed

in ruins before morning--where would be the world's want in the crazed

projector, and the niggardly pinch-commons, by which it is inhabited?

They will needs come to reform Zetland customs, let them try how they

like a Zetland storm.--You that would not perish, quit this house!"

The pedlar seized on his little knapsack, and began hastily to brace it

on his back; the old maid-servant cast her cloak about her shoulders,

and both seemed to be in the act of leaving the house as fast as they

could.

Triptolemus Yellowley, somewhat commoved by these appearances, asked

Mordaunt, with a voice which faltered with apprehension, whether he

thought there was any, that is, so very much danger?

"I cannot tell," answered the youth, "I have scarce ever seen such a

storm. Norna can tell us better than any one when it will abate; for no

one in these islands can judge of the weather like her."

"And is that all thou thinkest Norna can do?" said the sibyl; "thou

shalt know her powers are not bounded within such a narrow space. Hear

me, Mordaunt, youth of a foreign land, but of a friendly heart--Dost

thou quit this doomed mansion with those who now prepare to leave it?"

"I do not--I will not, Norna," replied Mordaunt; "I know not your motive

for desiring me to remove, and I will not leave, upon these dark

threats, the house in which I have been kindly received in such a

tempest as this. If the owners are unaccustomed to our practice of

unlimited hospitality, I am the more obliged to them that they have

relaxed their usages, and opened their doors in my behalf."

"He is a brave lad," said Mistress Baby, whose superstitious feelings

had been daunted by the threats of the supposed sorceress, and who,

amidst her eager, narrow, and repining disposition, had, like all who

possess marked character, some sparks of higher feeling, which made her

sympathize with generous sentiments, though she thought it too expensive

to entertain them at her own cost--"He is a brave lad," she again

repeated, "and worthy of ten geese, if I had them to boil for him, or

roast either. I'll warrant him a gentleman's son, and no churl's blood."

"Hear me, young Mordaunt," said Norna, "and depart from this house. Fate

has high views on you--you shall not remain in this hovel to be crushed

amid its worthless ruins, with the relics of its more worthless

inhabitants, whose life is as little to the world as the vegetation of

the house-leek, which now grows on their thatch, and which shall soon be

crushed amongst their mangled limbs."

"I--I--I will go forth," said Yellowley, who, despite of his bearing

himself scholarly and wisely, was beginning to be terrified for the

issue of the adventure; for the house was old, and the walls rocked

formidably to the blast.

"To what purpose?" said his sister. "I trust the Prince of the power of

the air has not yet such-like power over those that are made in God's

image, that a good house should fall about our heads, because a randy

quean" (here she darted a fierce glance at the Pythoness) "should boast

us with her glamour, as if we were sae mony dogs to crouch at her

bidding!"

"I was only wanting," said Triptolemus, ashamed of his motion, "to look

at the bear-braird, which must be sair laid wi' this tempest; but if

this honest woman like to bide wi' us, I think it were best to let us a'

sit doun canny thegither, till it's working weather again."

"Honest woman!" echoed Baby--"Foul warlock thief!--Aroint ye, ye

limmer!" she added, addressing Norna directly; "out of an honest house,

or, shame fa' me, but I'll take the bittle[26] to you!"

Norna cast on her a look of supreme contempt; then, stepping to the

window, seemed engaged in deep contemplation of the heavens, while the

old maid-servant, Tronda, drawing close to her mistress, implored, for

the sake of all that was dear to man or woman, "Do not provoke Norna of

Fitful-head! You have no sic woman on the mainland of Scotland--she can

ride on one of these clouds as easily as man ever rode on a sheltie."

"I shall live to see her ride on the reek of a fat tar-barrel," said

Mistress Baby; "and that will be a fit pacing palfrey for her."

Again Norna regarded the enraged Mrs. Baby Yellowley with a look of that

unutterable scorn which her haughty features could so well express, and

moving to the window which looked to the north-west, from which quarter

the gale seemed at present to blow, she stood for some time with her

arms crossed, looking out upon the leaden-coloured sky, obscured as it

was by the thick drift, which, coming on in successive gusts of tempest,

left ever and anon sad and dreary intervals of expectation betwixt the

dying and the reviving blast.

Norna regarded this war of the elements as one to whom their strife was

familiar; yet the stern serenity of her features had in it a cast of

awe, and at the same time of authority, as the cabalist may be supposed

to look upon the spirit he has evoked, and which, though he knows how to

subject him to his spell, bears still an aspect appalling to flesh and

blood. The attendants stood by in different attitudes, expressive of

their various feelings. Mordaunt, though not indifferent to the risk in

which they stood, was more curious than alarmed. He had heard of Norna's

alleged power over the elements, and now expected an opportunity of

judging for himself of its reality. Triptolemus Yellowley was confounded

at what seemed to be far beyond the bounds of his philosophy; and, if

the truth must be spoken, the worthy agriculturist was greatly more

frightened than inquisitive. His sister was not in the least curious on

the subject; but it was difficult to say whether anger or fear

predominated in her sharp eyes and thin compressed lips. The pedlar and

old Tronda, confident that the house would never fall while the

redoubted Norna was beneath its roof, held themselves ready for a start

the instant she should take her departure.

Having looked on the sky for some time in a fixed attitude, and with the

most profound silence, Norna at once, yet with a slow and elevated

gesture, extended her staff of black oak towards that part of the

heavens from which the blast came hardest, and in the midst of its fury

chanted a Norwegian invocation, still preserved in the Island of Uist,

under the name of the Song of the Reimkennar, though some call it the

Song of the Tempest. The following is a free translation, it being

impossible to render literally many of the elliptical and metaphorical

terms of expression, peculiar to the ancient Northern poetry:--

1.

"Stern eagle of the far north-west,

Thou that bearest in thy grasp the thunderbolt,

Thou whose rushing pinions stir ocean to madness,

Thou the destroyer of herds, thou the scatterer of navies,

Thou the breaker down of towers,

Amidst the scream of thy rage,

Amidst the rushing of thy onward wings,

Though thy scream be loud as the cry of a perishing nation,

Though the rushing of thy wings be like the roar of ten thousand waves,

Yet hear, in thine ire and thy haste,

Hear thou the voice of the Reim-kennar.

2.

"Thou hast met the pine-trees of Drontheim,

Their dark-green heads lie prostrate beside their uprooted stems;

Thou hast met the rider of the ocean,

The tall, the strong bark of the fearless rover,

And she has struck to thee the topsail

That she had not veiled to a royal armada;

Thou hast met the tower that hears its crest among the clouds,

The battled massive tower of the Jarl of former days,

And the cope-stone of the turret

Is lying upon its hospitable hearth;

But thou too shalt stoop, proud compeller of clouds,

When thou hearest the voice of the Reim-kennar.

3.

"There are verses that can stop the stag in the forest,

Ay, and when the dark-coloured dog is opening on his track;

There are verses can make the wild hawk pause on the wing,

Like the falcon that wears the hood and the jesses,

And who knows the shrill whistle of the fowler.

Thou who canst mock at the scream of the drowning mariner,

And the crash of the ravaged forest,

And the groan of the overwhelmed crowds,

When the church hath fallen in the moment of prayer,

There are sounds which thou also must list,

When they are chanted by the voice of the Reim-kennar.

4.

"Enough of woe hast thou wrought on the ocean,

The widows wring their hands on the beach;

Enough of woe hast thou wrought on the land,

The husbandman folds his arms in despair;

Cease thou the waving of thy pinions,

Let the ocean repose in her dark strength;

Cease thou the flashing of thine eye.

Let the thunderbolt sleep in the armoury of Odin;

Be thou still at my bidding, viewless racer of the north-western heaven,

Sleep thou at the voice of Norna the Reim-kennar!"

We have said that Mordaunt was naturally fond of romantic poetry and

romantic situation; it is not therefore surprising that he listened with

interest to the wild address thus uttered to the wildest wind of the

compass, in a tone of such dauntless enthusiasm. But though he had heard

so much of the Runic rhyme and of the northern spell, in the country

where he had so long dwelt, he was not on this occasion so credulous as

to believe that the tempest, which had raged so lately, and which was

now beginning to decline, was subdued before the charmed verse of Norna.

Certain it was, that the blast seemed passing away, and the apprehended

danger was already over; but it was not improbable that this issue had

been for some time foreseen by the Pythoness, through signs of the

weather imperceptible to those who had not dwelt long in the country, or

had not bestowed on the meteorological phenomena the attention of a

strict and close observer. Of Norna's experience he had no doubt, and

that went a far way to explain what seemed supernatural in her

demeanour. Yet still the noble countenance, half-shaded by dishevelled

tresses, the air of majesty with which, in a tone of menace as well as

of command, she addressed the viewless spirit of the tempest, gave him a

strong inclination to believe in the ascendency of the occult arts over

the powers of nature; for, if a woman ever moved on earth to whom such

authority over the ordinary laws of the universe could belong, Norna of

Fitful-head, judging from bearing, figure, and face, was born to that

high destiny.

The rest of the company were less slow in receiving conviction. To

Tronda and the jagger none was necessary; they had long believed in the

full extent of Norna's authority over the elements. But Triptolemus and

his sister gazed at each other with wondering and alarmed looks,

especially when the wind began perceptibly to decline, as was remarkably

visible during the pauses which Norna made betwixt the strophes of her

incantation. A long silence followed the last verse, until Norna

resumed her chant, but with a changed and more soothing modulation of

voice and tune.

"Eagle of the far north-western waters,

Thou hast heard the voice of the Reim-kennar,

Thou hast closed thy wide sails at her bidding,

And folded them in peace by thy side.

My blessing be on thy retiring path!

When thou stoopest from thy place on high,

Soft be thy slumbers in the caverns of the unknown ocean,

Rest till destiny shall again awaken thee;

Eagle of the north-west, thou hast heard the voice of the Reim-kennar!"

"A pretty sang that would be to keep the corn from shaking in har'st,"

whispered the agriculturist to his sister; "we must speak her fair,

Baby--she will maybe part with the secret for a hundred pund Scots."

"An hundred fules' heads!" replied Baby--"bid her five merks of ready

siller. I never knew a witch in my life but she was as poor as Job."

Norna turned towards them as if she had guessed their thoughts; it may

be that she did so. She passed them with a look of the most sovereign

contempt, and walking to the table on which the preparations for Mrs.

Barbara's frugal meal were already disposed, she filled a small wooden

quaigh from an earthen pitcher which contained bland, a subacid liquor

made out of the serous part of the milk. She broke a single morsel from

a barley-cake, and having eaten and drunk, returned towards the churlish

hosts. "I give you no thanks," she said, "for my refreshment, for you

bid me not welcome to it; and thanks bestowed on a churl are like the

dew of heaven on the cliffs of Foulah, where it finds nought that can

be refreshed by its influences. I give you no thanks," she said again,

but drawing from her pocket a leathern purse that seemed large and

heavy, she added, "I pay you with what you will value more than the

gratitude of the whole inhabitants of Hialtland. Say not that Norna of

Fitful-head hath eaten of your bread and drunk of your cup, and left you

sorrowing for the charge to which she hath put your house." So saying,

she laid on the table a small piece of antique gold coin, bearing the

rude and half-defaced effigies of some ancient northern king.

Triptolemus and his sister exclaimed against this liberality with

vehemence; the first protesting that he kept no public, and the other

exclaiming, "Is the carline mad? Heard ye ever of ony of the gentle

house of Clinkscale that gave meat for siller?"

"Or for love either?" muttered her brother; "haud to that, tittie."

"What are ye whittie-whattieing about, ye gowk?" said his gentle sister,

who suspected the tenor of his murmurs; "gie the ladie back her

bonnie-die there, and be blithe to be sae rid on't--it will be a

sclate-stane the morn, if not something worse."

The honest factor lifted the money to return it, yet could not help

being struck when he saw the impression, and his hand trembled as he

handed it to his sister.

"Yes," said the Pythoness again, as if she read the thoughts of the

astonished pair, "you have seen that coin before--beware how you use it!

It thrives not with the sordid or the mean-souled--it was won with

honourable danger, and must be expended with honourable liberality. The

treasure which lies under a cold hearth will one day, like the hidden

talent, bear witness against its avaricious possessors."

This last obscure intimation seemed to raise the alarm and the wonder of

Mrs. Baby and her brother to the uttermost. The latter tried to stammer

out something like an invitation to Norna to tarry with them all night,

or at least to take share of the "dinner," so he at first called it; but

looking at the company, and remembering the limited contents of the pot,

he corrected the phrase, and hoped she would take some part of the

"snack, which would be on the table ere a man could loose a pleugh."

"I eat not here--I sleep not here," replied Norna--"nay, I relieve you

not only of my own presence, but I will dismiss your unwelcome

guests.--Mordaunt," she added, addressing young Mertoun, "the dark fit

is past, and your father looks for you this evening."

"Do you return in that direction?" said Mordaunt. "I will but eat a

morsel, and give you my aid, good mother, on the road. The brooks must

be out, and the journey perilous."

"Our roads lie different," answered the Sibyl, "and Norna needs not

mortal arm to aid her on the way. I am summoned far to the east, by

those who know well how to smooth my passage.--For thee, Bryce

Snailsfoot," she continued, speaking to the pedlar, "speed thee on to

Sumburgh--the Roost will afford thee a gallant harvest, and worthy the

gathering in. Much goodly ware will ere now be seeking a new owner, and

the careful skipper will sleep still enough in the deep haaf, and care

not that bale and chest are dashing against the shores."

"Na, na, good mother," answered Snailsfoot, "I desire no man's life for

my private advantage, and am just grateful for the blessing of

Providence on my sma' trade. But doubtless one man's loss is another's

gain; and as these storms destroy a' thing on land, it is but fair they

suld send us something by sea. Sae, taking the freedom, like yoursell,

mother, to borrow a lump of barley-bread, and a draught of bland, I will

bid good-day, and thank you, to this good gentleman and lady, and e'en

go on my way to Jarlshof, as you advise."

"Ay," replied the Pythoness, "where the slaughter is, the eagles will be

gathered; and where the wreck is on the shore, the jagger is as busy to

purchase spoil as the shark to gorge upon the dead."

This rebuke, if it was intended for such, seemed above the comprehension

of the travelling merchant, who, bent upon gain, assumed the knapsack

and ellwand, and asked Mordaunt, with the familiarity permitted in a

wild country, whether he would not take company along with him?

"I wait to eat some dinner with Mr. Yellowley and Mrs. Baby," answered

the youth, "and will set forward in half an hour."

"Then I'll just take my piece in my hand," said the pedlar. Accordingly

he muttered a benediction, and, without more ceremony, helped himself to

what, in Mrs. Baby's covetous eyes, appeared to be two-thirds of the

bread, took a long pull at the jug of bland, seized on a handful of the

small fish called sillocks, which the domestic was just placing on the

board, and left the room without farther ceremony.

"My certie," said the despoiled Mrs. Baby, "there is the chapman's

drouth[27] and his hunger baith, as folk say! If the laws against

vagrants be executed this gate--It's no that I wad shut the door against

decent folk," she said, looking to Mordaunt, "more especially in such

judgment-weather. But I see the goose is dished, poor thing."

This she spoke in a tone of affection for the smoked goose, which,

though it had long been an inanimate inhabitant of her chimney, was far

more interesting to Mrs. Baby in that state, than when it screamed

amongst the clouds. Mordaunt laughed and took his seat, then turned to

look for Norna; but she had glided from the apartment during the

discussion with the pedlar.

"I am glad she is gane, the dour carline," said Mrs. Baby, "though she

has left that piece of gowd to be an everlasting shame to us."

"Whisht, mistress, for the love of heaven!" said Tronda Dronsdaughter;

"wha kens where she may be this moment?--we are no sure but she may hear

us, though we cannot see her."

Mistress Baby cast a startled eye around, and instantly recovering

herself, for she was naturally courageous as well as violent, said, "I

bade her aroint before, and I bid her aroint again, whether she sees me

or hears me, or whether she's ower the cairn and awa.--And you, ye silly

sumph," she said to poor Yellowley, "what do ye stand glowering there

for?--_You_ a Saunt Andrew's student!--_you_ studied lair and Latin

humanities, as ye ca' them, and daunted wi' the clavers of an auld

randie wife! Say your best college grace, man, and witch, or nae witch,

we'll eat our dinner, and defy her. And for the value of the gowden

piece, it shall never be said I pouched her siller. I will gie it to

some poor body--that is, I will test[28] upon it at my death, and keep

it for a purse-penny till that day comes, and that's no using it in the

way of spending siller. Say your best college grace, man, and let us eat

and drink in the meantime."

"Ye had muckle better say an _oraamus_ to Saint Ronald, and fling a

saxpence ower your left shouther, master," said Tronda.[29]

"That ye may pick it up, ye jaud," said the implacable Mistress Baby;

"it will be lang or ye win the worth of it ony other gate.--Sit down,

Triptolemus, and mindna the words of a daft wife."

"Daft or wise," replied Yellowley, very much disconcerted, "she kens

more than I would wish she kend. It was awfu' to see sic a wind fa' at

the voice of flesh and blood like oursells--and then yon about the

hearth-stane--I cannot but think"----

"If ye cannot but think," said Mrs. Baby, very sharply, "at least ye can

haud your tongue?"

The agriculturist made no reply, but sate down to their scanty meal, and

did the honours of it with unusual heartiness to his new guest, the

first of the intruders who had arrived, and the last who left them. The

sillocks speedily disappeared, and the smoked goose, with its

appendages, took wing so effectually, that Tronda, to whom the polishing

of the bones had been destined, found the task accomplished, or nearly

so, to her hand. After dinner, the host produced his bottle of brandy;

but Mordaunt, whose general habits were as abstinent almost as those of

his father, laid a very light tax upon this unusual exertion of

hospitality.

During the meal, they learned so much of young Mordaunt, and of his

father, that even Baby resisted his wish to reassume his wet garments,

and pressed him (at the risk of an expensive supper being added to the

charges of the day) to tarry with them till the next morning. But what

Norna had said excited the youth's wish to reach home, nor, however far

the hospitality of Stourburgh was extended in his behalf, did the house

present any particular temptations to induce him to remain there longer.

He therefore accepted the loan of the factor's clothes, promising to

return them, and send for his own; and took a civil leave of his host

and Mistress Baby, the latter of whom, however affected by the loss of

her goose, could not but think the cost well bestowed (since it was to

be expended at all) upon so handsome and cheerful a youth.

FOOTNOTES:

[26] The beetle with which the Scottish housewives used to perform the

office of the modern mangle, by beating newly-washed linen on a smooth

stone for the purpose, called the beetling-stone.

[27] The chapman's drouth, that is, the pedlar's thirst, is proverbial

in Scotland, because these pedestrian traders were in the use of

modestly asking only for a drink of water, when, in fact, they were

desirous of food.

[28] Test upon it, _i. e._, leave it in my will; a mode of bestowing

charity, to which many are partial as well as the good dame in the text.

[29] Although the Zetlanders were early reconciled to the reformed

faith, some ancient practices of Catholic superstition survived long

among them. In very stormy weather a fisher would vow an _oramus_ to

Saint Ronald, and acquitted himself of the obligation by throwing a

small piece of money in at the window of a ruinous chapel.

CHAPTER VII.

She does no work by halves, yon raving ocean;

Engulfing those she strangles, her wild womb

Affords the mariners whom she hath dealt on,

Their death at once, and sepulchre.

_Old Play._

There were ten "lang Scots miles" betwixt Stourburgh and Jarlshof; and

though the pedestrian did not number all the impediments which crossed

Tam o' Shanter's path,--for in a country where there are neither hedges

nor stone enclosures, there can be neither "slaps nor stiles,"--yet the

number and nature of the "mosses and waters" which he had to cross in

his peregrination, was fully sufficient to balance the account, and to

render his journey as toilsome and dangerous as Tam o' Shanter's

celebrated retreat from Ayr. Neither witch nor warlock crossed

Mordaunt's path, however. The length of the day was already

considerable, and he arrived safe at Jarlshof by eleven o'clock at

night. All was still and dark round the mansion, and it was not till he

had whistled twice or thrice beneath Swertha's window, that she replied

to the signal.

At the first sound, Swertha fell into an agreeable dream of a young

whale-fisher, who some forty years before used to make such a signal

beneath the window of her hut; at the second, she waked to remember that

Johnnie Fea had slept sound among the frozen waves of Greenland for this

many a year, and that she was Mr. Mertoun's governante at Jarlshof; at

the third, she arose and opened the window.

"Whae is that," she demanded, "at sic an hour of the night?"

"It is I," said the youth.

"And what for comena ye in? The door's on the latch, and there is a

gathering peat on the kitchen fire, and a spunk beside it--ye can light

your ain candle."

"All well," replied Mordaunt; "but I want to know how my father is?"

"Just in his ordinary, gude gentleman--asking for you, Maister Mordaunt;

ye are ower far and ower late in your walks, young gentleman."

"Then the dark hour has passed, Swertha?"

"In troth has it, Maister Mordaunt," answered the governante; "and your

father is very reasonably good-natured for him, poor gentleman. I spake

to him twice yesterday without his speaking first; and the first time he

answered me as civil as you could do, and the neist time he bade me no

plague him; and then, thought I, three times were aye canny, so I spake

to him again for luck's-sake, and he called me a chattering old devil;

but it was quite and clean in a civil sort of way."

"Enough, enough, Swertha," answered Mordaunt; "and now get up, and find

me something to eat, for I have dined but poorly."

"Then you have been at the new folk's at Stourburgh; for there is no

another house in a' the Isles but they wad hae gi'en ye the best share

of the best they had. Saw ye aught of Norna of the Fitful-head? She went

to Stourburgh this morning, and returned to the town at night."

"Returned!--then she is here? How could she travel three leagues and

better in so short a time?"

"Wha kens how she travels?" replied Swertha; "but I heard her tell the

Ranzelman wi' my ain lugs, that she intended that day to have gone on to

Burgh-Westra, to speak with Minna Troil, but she had seen that at

Stourburgh, (indeed she said at Harfra, for she never calls it by the

other name of Stourburgh,) that sent her back to our town. But gang your

ways round, and ye shall have plenty of supper--ours is nae toom pantry,

and still less a locked ane, though my master be a stranger, and no just

that tight in the upper rigging, as the Ranzelman says."

Mordaunt walked round to the kitchen accordingly, where Swertha's care

speedily accommodated him with a plentiful, though coarse meal, which

indemnified him for the scanty hospitality he had experienced at

Stourburgh.

In the morning, some feelings of fatigue made young Mertoun later than

usual in leaving his bed; so that, contrary to what was the ordinary

case, he found his father in the apartment where they eat, and which

served them indeed for every common purpose, save that of a bedchamber

or of a kitchen. The son greeted the father in mute reverence, and

waited until he should address him.

"You were absent yesterday, Mordaunt?" said his father. Mordaunt's

absence had lasted a week and more; but he had often observed that his

father never seemed to notice how time passed during the period when he

was affected with his sullen vapours. He assented to what the elder Mr.

Mertoun had said.

"And you were at Burgh-Westra, as I think?" continued his father.

"Yes, sir," replied Mordaunt.

The elder Mertoun was then silent for some time, and paced the floor in

deep silence, with an air of sombre reflection, which seemed as if he

were about to relapse into his moody fit. Suddenly turning to his son,

however, he observed, in the tone of a query, "Magnus Troil has two

daughters--they must be now young women; they are thought handsome, of

course?"

"Very generally, sir," answered Mordaunt, rather surprised to hear his

father making any enquiries about the individuals of a sex which he

usually thought so light of, a surprise which was much increased by the

next question, put as abruptly as the former.

"Which think you the handsomest?"

"I, sir?" replied his son with some wonder, but without

embarrassment--"I really am no judge--I never considered which was

absolutely the handsomest. They are both very pretty young women."

"You evade my question, Mordaunt; perhaps I have some very particular

reason for my wish to be acquainted with your taste in this matter. I am

not used to waste words for no purpose. I ask you again, which of Magnus

Troil's daughters you think most handsome?"

"Really, sir," replied Mordaunt--"but you only jest in asking me such a

question."

"Young man," replied Mertoun, with eyes which began to roll and sparkle

with impatience, "I _never_ jest. I desire an answer to my question."

"Then, upon my word, sir," said Mordaunt, "it is not in my power to form

a judgment betwixt the young ladies--they are both very pretty, but by

no means like each other. Minna is dark-haired, and more grave than her

sister--more serious, but by no means either dull or sullen."

"Um," replied his father; "you have been gravely brought up, and this

Minna, I suppose, pleases you most?"

"No, sir, really I can give her no preference over her sister Brenda,

who is as gay as a lamb in a spring morning--less tall than her sister,

but so well formed, and so excellent a dancer"----

"That she is best qualified to amuse the young man, who has a dull home

and a moody father?" said Mr. Mertoun.

Nothing in his father's conduct had ever surprised Mordaunt so much as

the obstinacy with which he seemed to pursue a theme so foreign to his

general train of thought, and habits of conversation; but he contented

himself with answering once more, "that both the young ladies were

highly admirable, but he had never thought of them with the wish to do

either injustice, by ranking her lower than her sister--that others

would probably decide between them, as they happened to be partial to a

grave or a gay disposition, or to a dark or fair complexion; but that he

could see no excellent quality in the one that was not balanced by

something equally captivating in the other."

It is possible that even the coolness with which Mordaunt made this

explanation might not have satisfied his father concerning the subject

of investigation; but Swertha at this moment entered with breakfast, and

the youth, notwithstanding his late supper, engaged in that meal with an

air which satisfied Mertoun that he held it matter of more grave

importance than the conversation which they had just had, and that he

had nothing more to say upon the subject explanatory of the answers he

had already given. He shaded his brow with his hand, and looked long

fixedly upon the young man as he was busied with his morning meal. There

was neither abstraction nor a sense of being observed in any of his

motions; all was frank, natural, and open.

"He is fancy-free," muttered Mertoun to himself--"so young, so lively,

and so imaginative, so handsome and so attractive in face and person,

strange, that at his age, and in his circumstances, he should have

avoided the meshes which catch all the world beside!"

When the breakfast was over, the elder Mertoun, instead of proposing, as

usual, that his son, who awaited his commands, should betake himself to

one branch or other of his studies, assumed his hat and staff, and

desired that Mordaunt should accompany him to the top of the cliff,

called Sumburgh-head, and from thence look out upon the state of the

ocean, agitated as it must still be by the tempest of the preceding day.

Mordaunt was at the age when young men willingly exchange sedentary

pursuits for active exercise, and started up with alacrity to comply

with his father's desire; and in the course of a few minutes they were

mounting together the hill, which, ascending from the land side in a

long, steep, and grassy slope, sinks at once from the summit to the sea

in an abrupt and tremendous precipice.

The day was delightful; there was just so much motion in the air as to

disturb the little fleecy clouds which were scattered on the horizon,

and by floating them occasionally over the sun, to chequer the landscape

with that variety of light and shade which often gives to a bare and

unenclosed scene, for the time at least, a species of charm approaching

to the varieties of a cultivated and planted country. A thousand

flitting hues of light and shade played over the expanse of wild moor,

rocks, and inlets, which, as they climbed higher and higher, spread in

wide and wider circuit around them.

The elder Mertoun often paused and looked round upon the scene, and for

some time his son supposed that he halted to enjoy its beauties; but as

they ascended still higher up the hill, he remarked his shortened breath

and his uncertain and toilsome step, and became assured, with some

feelings of alarm, that his father's strength was, for the moment,

exhausted, and that he found the ascent more toilsome and fatiguing than

usual. To draw close to his side, and offer him in silence the

assistance of his arm, was an act of youthful deference to advanced age,

as well as of filial reverence; and Mertoun seemed at first so to

receive it, for he took in silence the advantage of the aid thus

afforded him.

It was but for two or three minutes, however, that the father availed

himself of his son's support. They had not ascended fifty yards farther,

ere he pushed Mordaunt suddenly, if not rudely, from him; and, as if

stung into exertion by some sudden recollection, began to mount the

acclivity with such long and quick steps, that Mordaunt, in his turn,

was obliged to exert himself to keep pace with him. He knew his father's

peculiarity of disposition; he was aware from many slight circumstances,

that he loved him not even while he took much pains with his education,

and while he seemed to be the sole object of his care upon earth. But

the conviction had never been more strongly or more powerfully forced

upon him than by the hasty churlishness with which Mertoun rejected from

a son that assistance, which most elderly men are willing to receive

from youths with whom they are but slightly connected, as a tribute

which it is alike graceful to yield and pleasing to receive. Mertoun,

however, did not seem to perceive the effect which his unkindness had

produced upon his son's feelings. He paused upon a sort of level terrace

which they had now attained, and addressed his son with an indifferent

tone, which seemed in some degree affected.

"Since you have so few inducements, Mordaunt, to remain in these wild

islands, I suppose you sometimes wish to look a little more abroad into

the world?"

"By my word, sir," replied Mordaunt, "I cannot say I ever have a thought

on such a subject."

"And why not, young man?" demanded his father; "it were but natural, I

think, at your age. At your age, the fair and varied breadth of Britain

could not gratify me, much less the compass of a sea-girdled peat-moss."

"I have never thought of leaving Zetland, sir," replied the son. "I am

happy here, and have friends. You yourself, sir, would miss me, unless

indeed"----

"Why, thou wouldst not persuade me," said his father, somewhat hastily,

"that you stay here, or desire to stay here, for the love of me?"

"Why should I not, sir?" answered Mordaunt, mildly; "it is my duty, and

I hope I have hitherto performed it."

"O ay," repeated Mertoun, in the same tone--"your duty--your duty. So it

is the duty of the dog to follow the groom that feeds him."

"And does he not do so, sir?" said Mordaunt.

"Ay," said his father, turning his head aside: "but he fawns only on

those who caress him."

"I hope, sir," replied Mordaunt, "I have not been found deficient?"

"Say no more on't--say no more on't," said Mertoun, abruptly, "we have

both done enough by each other--we must soon part--Let that be our

comfort--if our separation should require comfort."

"I shall be ready to obey your wishes," said Mordaunt, not altogether

displeased at what promised him an opportunity of looking farther abroad

into the world. "I presume it will be your pleasure that I commence my

travels with a season at the whale-fishing."

"Whale-fishing!" replied Mertoun; "that were a mode indeed of seeing the

world! but thou speakest but as thou hast learned. Enough of this for

the present. Tell me where you had shelter from the storm yesterday?"

"At Stourburgh, the house of the new factor from Scotland."

"A pedantic, fantastic, visionary schemer," said Mertoun--"and whom saw

you there?"

"His sister, sir," replied Mordaunt, "and old Norna of the Fitful-head."

"What! the mistress of the potent spell," answered Mertoun, with a

sneer--"she who can change the wind by pulling her curch on one side, as

King Erick used to do by turning his cap? The dame journeys far from

home--how fares she? Does she get rich by selling favourable winds to

those who are port-bound?"[30]

"I really do not know, sir," said Mordaunt, whom certain recollections

prevented from freely entering into his father's humour.

"You think the matter too serious to be jested with, or perhaps esteem

her merchandise too light to be cared after," continued Mertoun, in the

same sarcastic tone, which was the nearest approach he ever made to

cheerfulness; "but consider it more deeply. Every thing in the universe

is bought and sold, and why not wind, if the merchant can find

purchasers? The earth is rented, from its surface down to its most

central mines;--the fire, and the means of feeding it, are currently

bought and sold;--the wretches that sweep the boisterous ocean with

their nets, pay ransom for the privilege of being drowned in it. What

title has the air to be exempted from the universal course of traffic?

All above the earth, under the earth, and around the earth, has its

price, its sellers, and its purchasers. In many countries the priests

will sell you a portion of heaven--in all countries men are willing to

buy, in exchange for health, wealth, and peace of conscience, a full

allowance of hell. Why should not Norna pursue her traffic?"

"Nay, I know no reason against it," replied Mordaunt; "only I wish she

would part with the commodity in smaller quantities. Yesterday she was a

wholesale dealer--whoever treated with her had too good a pennyworth."

"It is even so," said his father, pausing on the verge of the wild

promontory which they had attained, where the huge precipice sinks

abruptly down on the wide and tempestuous ocean, "and the effects are

still visible."

The face of that lofty cape is composed of the soft and crumbling stone

called sand-flag, which gradually becomes decomposed, and yields to the

action of the atmosphere, and is split into large masses, that hang

loose upon the verge of the precipice, and, detached from it by the

violence of the tempests, often descend with great fury into the vexed

abyss which lashes the foot of the rock. Numbers of these huge fragments

lie strewed beneath the rocks from which they have fallen, and amongst

these the tide foams and rages with a fury peculiar to those latitudes.

At the period when Mertoun and his son looked from the verge of the

precipice, the wide sea still heaved and swelled with the agitation of

yesterday's storm, which had been far too violent in its effects on the

ocean to subside speedily. The tide therefore poured on the headland

with a fury deafening to the ear, and dizzying to the eye, threatening

instant destruction to whatever might be at the time involved in its

current. The sight of Nature, in her magnificence, or in her beauty, or

in her terrors, has at all times an overpowering interest, which even

habit cannot greatly weaken; and both father and son sat themselves down

on the cliff to look out upon that unbounded war of waters, which rolled

in their wrath to the foot of the precipice.

At once Mordaunt, whose eyes were sharper, and probably his attention

more alert, than that of his father, started up, and exclaimed, "God in

Heaven! there is a vessel in the Roost!"

Mertoun looked to the north-westward, and an object was visible amid the

rolling tide. "She shows no sail," he observed; and immediately added,

after looking at the object through his spy-glass, "She is dismasted,

and lies a sheer hulk upon the water."

"And is drifting on the Sumburgh-head," exclaimed Mordaunt, struck with

horror, "without the slightest means of weathering the cape!"

"She makes no effort," answered his father; "she is probably deserted by

her crew."

"And in such a day as yesterday," replied Mordaunt, "when no open boat

could live were she manned with the best men ever handled an oar--all

must have perished."

"It is most probable," said his father, with stern composure; "and one

day, sooner or later, all must have perished. What signifies whether the

fowler, whom nothing escapes, caught them up at one swoop from yonder

shattered deck, or whether he clutched them individually, as chance gave

them to his grasp? What signifies it?--the deck, the battlefield, are

scarce more fatal to us than our table and our bed; and we are saved

from the one, merely to drag out a heartless and wearisome existence,

till we perish at the other. Would the hour were come--that hour which

reason would teach us to wish for, were it not that nature has implanted

the fear of it so strongly within us! You wonder at such a reflection,

because life is yet new to you. Ere you have attained my age, it will be

the familiar companion of your thoughts."

"Surely, sir," replied Mordaunt, "such distaste to life is not the

necessary consequence of advanced age?"

"To all who have sense to estimate that which it is really worth," said

Mertoun. "Those who, like Magnus Troil, possess so much of the animal

impulses about them, as to derive pleasure from sensual gratification,

may perhaps, like the animals, feel pleasure in mere existence."

Mordaunt liked neither the doctrine nor the example. He thought a man

who discharged his duties towards others as well as the good old

Udaller, had a better right to have the sun shine fair on his setting,

than that which he might derive from mere insensibility. But he let the

subject drop; for to dispute with his father, had always the effect of

irritating him; and again he adverted to the condition of the wreck.

The hulk, for it was little better, was now in the very midst of the

current, and drifting at a great rate towards the foot of the precipice,

upon whose verge they were placed. Yet it was a long while ere they had

a distinct view of the object which they had at first seen as a black

speck amongst the waters, and then, at a nearer distance, like a whale,

which now scarce shows its back-fin above the waves, now throws to view

its large black side. Now, however, they could more distinctly observe

the appearance of the ship, for the huge swelling waves which bore her

forward to the shore, heaved her alternately high upon the surface, and

then plunged her into the trough or furrow of the sea. She seemed a

vessel of two or three hundred tons, fitted up for defence, for they

could see her port-holes. She had been dismasted probably in the gale of

the preceding day, and lay water-logged on the waves, a prey to their

violence. It appeared certain, that the crew, finding themselves unable

either to direct the vessel's course, or to relieve her by pumping, had

taken to their boats, and left her to her fate. All apprehensions were

therefore unnecessary, so far as the immediate loss of human lives was

concerned; and yet it was not without a feeling of breathless awe that

Mordaunt and his father beheld the vessel--that rare masterpiece by

which human genius aspires to surmount the waves, and contend with the

winds, upon the point of falling a prey to them.

Onward she came, the large black hulk seeming larger at every fathom's

length. She came nearer, until she bestrode the summit of one tremendous

billow, which rolled on with her unbroken, till the wave and its burden

were precipitated against the rock, and then the triumph of the elements

over the work of human hands was at once completed. One wave, we have

said, made the wrecked vessel completely manifest in her whole bulk, as

it raised her, and bore her onward against the face of the precipice.

But when that wave receded from the foot of the rock, the ship had

ceased to exist; and the retiring billow only bore back a quantity of

beams, planks, casks, and similar objects, which swept out to the

offing, to be brought in again by the next wave, and again precipitated

upon the face of the rock.

It was at this moment that Mordaunt conceived he saw a man floating on a

plank or water-cask, which, drifting away from the main current, seemed

about to go ashore upon a small spot of sand, where the water was

shallow, and the waves broke more smoothly. To see the danger, and to

exclaim, "He lives, and may yet be saved!" was the first impulse of the

fearless Mordaunt. The next was, after one rapid glance at the front of

the cliff, to precipitate himself--such seemed the rapidity of his

movement--from the verge, and to commence, by means of slight fissures,

projections, and crevices in the rock, a descent, which, to a spectator,

appeared little else than an act of absolute insanity.

"Stop, I command you, rash boy!" said his father; "the attempt is death.

Stop, and take the safer path to the left." But Mordaunt was already

completely engaged in his perilous enterprise.

"Why should I prevent him?" said his father, checking his anxiety with

the stern and unfeeling philosophy whose principles he had adopted.

"Should he die now, full of generous and high feeling, eager in the

cause of humanity, happy in the exertion of his own conscious activity,

and youthful strength--should he die now, will he not escape

misanthropy, and remorse, and age, and the consciousness of decaying

powers, both of body and mind?--I will not look upon it however--I will

not--I cannot behold his young light so suddenly quenched."

He turned from the precipice accordingly, and hastening to the left for

more than a quarter of a mile, he proceeded towards a _riva_, or cleft

in the rock, containing a path, called Erick's Steps, neither safe,

indeed, nor easy, but the only one by which the inhabitants of Jarlshof

were wont, for any purpose, to seek access to the foot of the precipice.

But long ere Mertoun had reached even the upper end of the pass, his

adventurous and active son had accomplished his more desperate

enterprise. He had been in vain turned aside from the direct line of

descent, by the intervention of difficulties which he had not seen from

above--his route became only more circuitous, but could not be

interrupted. More than once, large fragments to which he was about to

intrust his weight, gave way before him, and thundered down into the

tormented ocean; and in one or two instances, such detached pieces of

rock rushed after him, as if to bear him headlong in their course. A

courageous heart, a steady eye, a tenacious hand, and a firm foot,

carried him through his desperate attempt; and in the space of seven

minutes, he stood at the bottom of the cliff, from the verge of which

he had achieved his perilous descent.

The place which he now occupied was the small projecting spot of stones,

sand, and gravel, that extended a little way into the sea, which on the

right hand lashed the very bottom of the precipice, and on the left, was

scarce divided from it by a small wave-worn portion of beach that

extended as far as the foot of the rent in the rocks called Erick's

Steps, by which Mordaunt's father proposed to descend.

When the vessel split and went to pieces, all was swallowed up in the

ocean, which had, after the first shock, been seen to float upon the

waves, excepting only a few pieces of wreck, casks, chests, and the

like, which a strong eddy, formed by the reflux of the waves, had

landed, or at least grounded, upon the shallow where Mordaunt now stood.

Amongst these, his eager eye discovered the object that had at first

engaged his attention, and which now, seen at nigher distance, proved to

be in truth a man, and in a most precarious state. His arms were still

wrapt with a close and convulsive grasp round the plank to which he had

clung in the moment of the shock, but sense and the power of motion were

fled; and, from the situation in which the plank lay, partly grounded

upon the beach, partly floating in the sea, there was every chance that

it might be again washed off shore, in which case death was inevitable.

Just as he had made himself aware of these circumstances, Mordaunt

beheld a huge wave advancing, and hastened to interpose his aid ere it

burst, aware that the reflux might probably sweep away the sufferer.

He rushed into the surf, and fastened on the body, with the same

tenacity, though under a different impulse, with that wherewith the

hound seizes his prey. The strength of the retiring wave proved even

greater than he had expected, and it was not without a struggle for his

own life, as well as for that of the stranger, that Mordaunt resisted

being swept off with the receding billow, when, though an adroit

swimmer, the strength of the tide must either have dashed him against

the rocks, or hurried him out to sea. He stood his ground, however, and

ere another such billow had returned, he drew up, upon the small slip of

dry sand, both the body of the stranger, and the plank to which he

continued firmly attached. But how to save and to recall the means of

ebbing life and strength, and how to remove into a place of greater

safety the sufferer, who was incapable of giving any assistance towards

his own preservation, were questions which Mordaunt asked himself

eagerly, but in vain.

He looked to the summit of the cliff on which he had left his father,

and shouted to him for his assistance; but his eye could not distinguish

his form, and his voice was only answered by the scream of the

sea-birds. He gazed again on the sufferer. A dress richly laced,

according to the fashion of the times, fine linen, and rings upon his

fingers, evinced he was a man of superior rank; and his features showed

youth and comeliness, notwithstanding they were pallid and disfigured.

He still breathed, but so feebly, that his respiration was almost

imperceptible, and life seemed to keep such slight hold of his frame,

that there was every reason to fear it would become altogether

extinguished, unless it were speedily reinforced. To loosen the

handkerchief from his neck, to raise him with his face towards the

breeze, to support him with his arms, was all that Mordaunt could do for

his assistance, whilst he anxiously looked for some one who might lend

his aid in dragging the unfortunate to a more safe situation.

At this moment he beheld a man advancing slowly and cautiously along the

beach. He was in hopes, at first, it was his father, but instantly

recollected that he had not had time to come round by the circuitous

descent, to which he must necessarily have recourse, and besides, he saw

that the man who approached him was shorter in stature.

As he came nearer, Mordaunt was at no loss to recognise the pedlar whom

the day before he had met with at Harfra, and who was known to him

before upon many occasions. He shouted as loud as he could, "Bryce,

hollo! Bryce, come hither!" But the merchant, intent upon picking up

some of the spoils of the wreck, and upon dragging them out of reach of

the tide, paid for some time little attention to his shouts.

When he did at length approach Mordaunt, it was not to lend him his aid,

but to remonstrate with him on his rashness in undertaking the

charitable office. "Are you mad?" said he; "you that have lived sae lang

in Zetland, to risk the saving of a drowning man? Wot ye not, if you

bring him to life again, he will be sure to do you some capital

injury?[31]--Come, Master Mordaunt, bear a hand to what's mair to the

purpose. Help me to get ane or twa of these kists ashore before any body

else comes, and we shall share, like good Christians, what God sends us,

and be thankful."

Mordaunt was indeed no stranger to this inhuman superstition, current at

a former period among the lower orders of the Zetlanders, and the more

generally adopted, perhaps, that it served as an apology for refusing

assistance to the unfortunate victims of shipwreck, while they made

plunder of their goods. At any rate, the opinion, that to save a

drowning man was to run the risk of future injury from him, formed a

strange contradiction in the character of these islanders; who,

hospitable, generous, and disinterested, on all other occasions, were

sometimes, nevertheless, induced by this superstition, to refuse their

aid in those mortal emergencies, which were so common upon their rocky

and stormy coasts. We are happy to add, that the exhortation and example

of the proprietors have eradicated even the traces of this inhuman

belief, of which there might be some observed within the memory of those

now alive. It is strange that the minds of men should have ever been

hardened towards those involved in a distress to which they themselves

were so constantly exposed; but perhaps the frequent sight and

consciousness of such danger tends to blunt the feelings to its

consequences, whether affecting ourselves or others.

Bryce was remarkably tenacious of this ancient belief; the more so,

perhaps, that the mounting of his pack depended less upon the warehouses

of Lerwick or Kirkwall, than on the consequences of such a north-western

gale as that of the day preceding; for which (being a man who, in his

own way, professed great devotion) he seldom failed to express his

grateful thanks to Heaven. It was indeed said of him, that if he had

spent the same time in assisting the wrecked seamen, which he had

employed in rifling their bales and boxes, he would have saved many

lives, and lost much linen. He paid no sort of attention to the

repeated entreaties of Mordaunt, although he was now upon the same slip

of sand with him. It was well known to Bryce as a place on which the

eddy was likely to land such spoils as the ocean disgorged; and to

improve the favourable moment, he occupied himself exclusively in

securing and appropriating whatever seemed most portable and of greatest

value. At length Mordaunt saw the honest pedlar fix his views upon a

strong sea-chest, framed of some Indian wood, well secured by brass

plates, and seeming to be of a foreign construction. The stout lock

resisted all Bryce's efforts to open it, until, with great composure, he

plucked from his pocket a very neat hammer and chisel, and began forcing

the hinges.

Incensed beyond patience at his assurance, Mordaunt caught up a wooden

stretcher which lay near him, and laying his charge softly on the sand,

approached Bryce with a menacing gesture, and exclaimed, "You

cold-blooded, inhuman rascal! either get up instantly and lend me your

assistance to recover this man, and bear him out of danger from the

surf, or I will not only beat you to a mummy on the spot, but inform

Magnus Troil of your thievery, that he may have you flogged till your

bones are bare, and then banish you from the Mainland!"

The lid of the chest had just sprung open as this rough address saluted

Bryce's ears, and the inside presented a tempting view of wearing

apparel for sea and land; shirts, plain and with lace ruffles, a silver

compass, a silver-hilted sword, and other valuable articles, which the

pedlar well knew to be such as stir in the trade. He was half-disposed

to start up, draw the sword, which was a cut-and-thrust, and "darraign

battaile," as Spenser says, rather than quit his prize, or brook

interruption. Being, though short, a stout square-made personage, and

not much past the prime of life, having besides the better weapon, he

might have given Mordaunt more trouble than his benevolent

knight-errantry deserved.

Already, as with vehemence he repeated his injunctions that Bryce should

forbear his plunder, and come to the assistance of the dying man, the

pedlar retorted with a voice of defiance, "Dinna swear, sir; dinna

swear, sir--I will endure no swearing in my presence; and if you lay a

finger on me, that am taking the lawful spoil of the Egyptians, I will

give ye a lesson ye shall remember from this day to Yule!"

Mordaunt would speedily have put the pedlar's courage to the test, but a

voice behind him suddenly said, "Forbear!" It was the voice of Norna of

the Fitful-head, who, during the heat of their altercation, had

approached them unobserved. "Forbear!" she repeated; "and, Bryce, do

thou render Mordaunt the assistance he requires. It shall avail thee

more, and it is I who say the word, than all that you could earn to-day

besides."

"It is se'enteen hundred linen," said the pedlar, giving a tweak to one

of the shirts, in that knowing manner with which matrons and judges

ascertain the texture of the loom;--"it's se'enteen hundred linen, and

as strong as an it were dowlas. Nevertheless, mother, your bidding is to

be done; and I would have done Mr. Mordaunt's bidding too," he added,

relaxing from his note of defiance into the deferential whining tone

with which he cajoled his customers, "if he hadna made use of profane

oaths, which made my very flesh grew, and caused me, in some sort, to

forget myself." He then took a flask from his pocket, and approached

the shipwrecked man. "It's the best of brandy," he said; "and if that

doesna cure him, I ken nought that will." So saying, he took a

preliminary gulp himself, as if to show the quality of the liquor, and

was about to put it to the man's mouth, when, suddenly withholding his

hand, he looked at Norna--"You ensure me against all risk of evil from

him, if I am to render him my help?--Ye ken yoursell what folk say,

mother."

For all other answer, Norna took the bottle from the pedlar's hand, and

began to chafe the temples and throat of the shipwrecked man; directing

Mordaunt how to hold his head, so as to afford him the means of

disgorging the sea-water which he had swallowed during his immersion.

The pedlar looked on inactive for a moment, and then said, "To be sure,

there is not the same risk in helping him, now he is out of the water,

and lying high and dry on the beach; and, to be sure, the principal

danger is to those that first touch him; and, to be sure, it is a

world's pity to see how these rings are pinching the puir creature's

swalled fingers--they make his hand as blue as a partan's back before

boiling." So saying, he seized one of the man's cold hands, which had

just, by a tremulous motion, indicated the return of life, and began his

charitable work of removing the rings, which seemed to be of some value.

"As you love your life, forbear," said Norna, sternly, "or I will lay

that on you which shall spoil your travels through the isles."

"Now, for mercy's sake, mother, say nae mair about it," said the pedlar,

"and I'll e'en do your pleasure in your ain way! I _did_ feel a

rheumatize in my back-spauld yestreen; and it wad be a sair thing for

the like of me to be debarred my quiet walk round the country, in the

way of trade--making the honest penny, and helping myself with what

Providence sends on our coasts."

"Peace, then," said the woman--"Peace, as thou wouldst not rue it; and

take this man on thy broad shoulders. His life is of value, and you will

be rewarded."

"I had muckle need," said the pedlar, pensively looking at the lidless

chest, and the other matters which strewed the sand; "for he has come

between me and as muckle spreacherie as wad hae made a man of me for the

rest of my life; and now it maun lie here till the next tide sweep it a'

doun the Roost, after them that aught it yesterday morning."

"Fear not," said Norna, "it will come to man's use. See, there come

carrion-crows, of scent as keen as thine own."

She spoke truly; for several of the people from the hamlet of Jarlshof

were now hastening along the beach, to have their share in the spoil.

The pedlar beheld them approach with a deep groan. "Ay, ay," he said,

"the folk of Jarlshof, they will make clean wark; they are kend for that

far and wide; they winna leave the value of a rotten ratlin; and what's

waur, there isna ane o' them has mense or sense eneugh to give thanks

for the mercies when they have gotten them. There is the auld Ranzelman,

Neil Ronaldson, that canna walk a mile to hear the minister, but he will

hirple ten if he hears of a ship embayed."

Norna, however, seemed to possess over him so complete an ascendency,

that he no longer hesitated to take the man, who now gave strong

symptoms of reviving existence, upon his shoulders; and, assisted by

Mordaunt, trudged along the sea-beach with his burden, without farther

remonstrance. Ere he was borne off, the stranger pointed to the chest,

and attempted to mutter something, to which Norna replied, "Enough. It

shall be secured."

Advancing towards the passage called Erick's Steps, by which they were

to ascend the cliffs, they met the people from Jarlshof hastening in the

opposite direction. Man and woman, as they passed, reverently made room

for Norna, and saluted her--not without an expression of fear upon some

of their faces. She passed them a few paces, and then turning back,

called aloud to the Ranzelman, who (though the practice was more common

than legal) was attending the rest of the hamlet upon this plundering

expedition. "Neil Ronaldson," she said, "mark my words. There stands

yonder a chest, from which the lid has been just prized off. Look it be

brought down to your own house at Jarlshof, just as it now is. Beware of

moving or touching the slightest article. He were better in his grave

that so much as looks at the contents. I speak not for nought, nor in

aught will I be disobeyed."

"Your pleasure shall be done, mother," said Ronaldson. "I warrant we

will not break bulk, since sic is your bidding."

Far behind the rest of the villagers, followed an old woman, talking to

herself, and cursing her own decrepitude, which kept her the last of the

party, yet pressing forward with all her might to get her share of the

spoil.

When they met her, Mordaunt was astonished to recognise his father's old

housekeeper. "How now," he said, "Swertha, what make you so far from

home?"

"Just e'en daikering out to look after my auld master and your honour,"

replied Swertha, who felt like a criminal caught in the manner; for on

more occasions than one, Mr. Mertoun had intimated his high

disapprobation of such excursions as she was at present engaged in.

But Mordaunt was too much engaged with his own thoughts to take much

notice of her delinquency. "Have you seen my father?" he said.

"And that I have," replied Swertha--"The gude gentleman was ganging to

hirsel himsell doun Erick's Steps, whilk would have been the ending of

him, that is in no way a cragsman. Sae I e'en gat him wiled away

hame--and I was just seeking you that you may gang after him to the

hall-house, for to my thought he is far frae weel."

"My father unwell?" said Mordaunt, remembering the faintness he had

exhibited at the commencement of that morning's walk.

"Far frae weel--far frae weel," groaned out Swertha, with a piteous

shake of the head--"white o' the gills--white o' the gills--and him to

think of coming down the riva!"

"Return home, Mordaunt," said Norna, who was listening to what had

passed. "I will see all that is necessary done for this man's relief,

and you will find him at the Ranzelman's, when you list to enquire. You

cannot help him more than you already have done."

Mordaunt felt this was true, and, commanding Swertha to follow him

instantly, betook himself to the path homeward.

Swertha hobbled reluctantly after her young master in the same

direction, until she lost sight of him on his entering the cleft of the

rock; then instantly turned about, muttering to herself, "Haste home, in

good sooth?--haste home, and lose the best chance of getting a new

rokelay and owerlay that I have had these ten years? by my certie,

na--It's seldom sic rich godsends come on our shore--no since the Jenny

and James came ashore in King Charlie's time."

So saying, she mended her pace as well as she could, and, a willing mind

making amends for frail limbs, posted on with wonderful dispatch to put

in for her share of the spoil. She soon reached the beach, where the

Ranzelman, stuffing his own pouches all the while, was exhorting the

rest to part things fair, and be neighbourly, and to give to the auld

and helpless a share of what was going, which, he charitably remarked,

would bring a blessing on the shore, and send them "mair wrecks ere

winter."[32]

FOOTNOTES:

[30] Note III.--Sale of Winds.

[31] Note IV.--Reluctance to Save Drowning Men.

[32] Note V.--Mair Wrecks ere Winter.

CHAPTER VIII.

He was a lovely youth, I guess;

The panther in the wilderness

Was not so fair as he;

And when he chose to sport and play,

No dolphin ever was so gay,

Upon the tropic sea.

WORDSWORTH.

The light foot of Mordaunt Mertoun was not long of bearing him to

Jarlshof. He entered the house hastily, for what he himself had observed

that morning, corresponded in some degree with the ideas which Swertha's

tale was calculated to excite. He found his father, however, in the

inner apartment, reposing himself after his fatigue; and his first

question satisfied him that the good dame had practised a little

imposition to get rid of them both.

"Where is this dying man, whom you have so wisely ventured your own neck

to relieve?" said the elder Mertoun to the younger.

"Norna, sir," replied Mordaunt, "has taken him under her charge; she

understands such matters."

"And is quack as well as witch?" said the elder Mertoun. "With all my

heart--it is a trouble saved. But I hasted home, on Swertha's hint, to

look out for lint and bandages; for her speech was of broken bones."

Mordaunt kept silence, well knowing his father would not persevere in

his enquiries upon such a matter, and not willing either to prejudice

the old governante, or to excite his father to one of those excesses of

passion into which he was apt to burst, when, contrary to his wont, he

thought proper to correct the conduct of his domestic.

It was late in the day ere old Swertha returned from her expedition,

heartily fatigued, and bearing with her a bundle of some bulk,

containing, it would seem, her share of the spoil. Mordaunt instantly

sought her out, to charge her with the deceits she had practised on both

his father and himself; but the accused matron lacked not her reply.

"By her troth;" she said, "she thought it was time to bid Mr. Mertoun

gang hame and get bandages, when she had seen, with her ain twa een,

Mordaunt ganging down the cliff like a wild-cat--it was to be thought

broken bones would be the end, and lucky if bandages wad do any

good;--and, by her troth, she might weel tell Mordaunt his father was

puirly, and him looking sae white in the gills, (whilk, she wad die upon

it, was the very word she used,) and it was a thing that couldna be

denied by man at this very moment."

"But, Swertha," said Mordaunt, as soon as her clamorous defence gave him

time to speak in reply, "how came you, that should have been busy with

your housewifery and your spinning, to be out this morning at Erick's

Steps, in order to take all this unnecessary care of my father and

me?--And what is in that bundle, Swertha? for I fear, Swertha, you have

been transgressing the law, and have been out upon the wrecking system."

"Fair fa' your sonsy face, and the blessing of Saint Ronald upon you!"

said Swertha, in a tone betwixt coaxing and jesting; "would you keep a

puir body frae mending hersell, and sae muckle gear lying on the loose

sand for the lifting?--Hout, Maister Mordaunt, a ship ashore is a sight

to wile the minister out of his very pu'pit in the middle of his

preaching, muckle mair a puir auld ignorant wife frae her rock and her

tow. And little did I get for my day's wark--just some rags o' cambric

things, and a bit or twa of coorse claith, and sic like--the strong and

the hearty get a' thing in this warld."

"Yes, Swertha," replied Mordaunt, "and that is rather hard, as you must

have your share of punishment in this world and the next, for robbing

the poor mariners."

"Hout, callant, wha wad punish an auld wife like me for a wheen

duds?--Folk speak muckle black ill of Earl Patrick; but he was a freend

to the shore, and made wise laws against ony body helping vessels that

were like to gang on the breakers.[33]--And the mariners, I have heard

Bryce Jagger say, lose their right frae the time keel touches sand; and,

moreover, they are dead and gane, poor souls--dead and gane, and care

little about warld's wealth now--Nay, nae mair than the great Jarls and

Sea-kings, in the Norse days, did about the treasures that they buried

in the tombs and sepulchres auld langsyne. Did I ever tell you the sang,

Maister Mordaunt, how Olaf Tryguarson garr'd hide five gold crowns in

the same grave with him?"

"No, Swertha," said Mordaunt, who took pleasure in tormenting the

cunning old plunderer--"you never told me that; but I tell you, that the

stranger whom Norna has taken down to the town, will be well enough

to-morrow, to ask where you have hidden the goods that you have stolen

from the wreck."

"But wha will tell him a word about it, hinnie?" said Swertha, looking

slyly up in her young master's face--"The mair by token, since I maun

tell ye, that I have a bonny remnant of silk amang the lave, that will

make a dainty waistcoat to yoursell, the first merry-making ye gang to."

Mordaunt could no longer forbear laughing at the cunning with which the

old dame proposed to bribe off his evidence by imparting a portion of

her plunder; and, desiring her to get ready what provision she had made

for dinner, he returned to his father, whom he found still sitting in

the same place, and nearly in the same posture, in which he had left

him.

When their hasty and frugal meal was finished, Mordaunt announced to his

father his purpose of going down to the town, or hamlet, to look after

the shipwrecked sailor.

The elder Mertoun assented with a nod.

"He must be ill accommodated there, sir," added his son,--a hint which

only produced another nod of assent. "He seemed, from his appearance,"

pursued Mordaunt, "to be of very good rank--and admitting these poor

people do their best to receive him, in his present weak state, yet"----

"I know what you would say," said his father, interrupting him; "we, you

think, ought to do something towards assisting him. Go to him, then--if

he lacks money, let him name the sum, and he shall have it; but, for

lodging the stranger here, and holding intercourse with him, I neither

can, nor will do so. I have retired to this farthest extremity of the

British isles, to avoid new friends, and new faces, and none such shall

intrude on me either their happiness or their misery. When you have

known the world half a score of years longer, your early friends will

have given you reason to remember them, and to avoid new ones for the

rest of your life. Go then--why do you stop?--rid the country of the

man--let me see no one about me but those vulgar countenances, the

extent and character of whose petty knavery I know, and can submit to,

as to an evil too trifling to cause irritation." He then threw his purse

to his son, and signed to him to depart with all speed.

Mordaunt was not long before he reached the village. In the dark abode

of Neil Ronaldson, the Ranzelman, he found the stranger seated by the

peat-fire, upon the very chest which had excited the cupidity of the

devout Bryce Snailsfoot, the pedlar. The Ranzelman himself was absent,

dividing, with all due impartiality, the spoils of the wrecked vessel

amongst the natives of the community; listening to and redressing their

complaints of inequality; and (if the matter in hand had not been, from

beginning to end, utterly unjust and indefensible) discharging the part

of a wise and prudent magistrate, in all the details. For at this time,

and probably until a much later period, the lower orders of the

islanders entertained an opinion, common to barbarians also in the same

situation, that whatever was cast on their shores, became their

indisputable property.

Margery Bimbister, the worthy spouse of the Ranzelman, was in the charge

of the house, and introduced Mordaunt to her guest, saying, with no

great ceremony, "This is the young tacksman--You will maybe tell him

your name, though you will not tell it to us. If it had not been for

his four quarters, it's but little you would have said to any body, sae

lang as life lasted."

The stranger arose, and shook Mordaunt by the hand; observing, he

understood that he had been the means of saving his life and his chest.

"The rest of the property," he said, "is, I see, walking the plank; for

they are as busy as the devil in a gale of wind."

"And what was the use of your seamanship, then," said Margery, "that you

couldna keep off the Sumburgh-head? It would have been lang ere

Sumburgh-head had come to you."

"Leave us for a moment, good Margery Bimbister," said Mordaunt; "I wish

to have some private conversation with this gentleman."

"Gentleman!" said Margery, with an emphasis; "not but the man is well

enough to look at," she added, again surveying him, "but I doubt if

there is muckle of the gentleman about him."

Mordaunt looked at the stranger, and was of a different opinion. He was

rather above the middle size, and formed handsomely as well as strongly.

Mordaunt's intercourse with society was not extensive; but he thought

his new acquaintance, to a bold sunburnt handsome countenance, which

seemed to have faced various climates, added the frank and open manners

of a sailor. He answered cheerfully the enquiries which Mordaunt made

after his health; and maintained that one night's rest would relieve him

from all the effects of the disaster he had sustained. But he spoke with

bitterness of the avarice and curiosity of the Ranzelman and his spouse.

"That chattering old woman," said the stranger, "has persecuted me the

whole day for the name of the ship. I think she might be contented with

the share she has had of it. I was the principal owner of the vessel

that was lost yonder, and they have left me nothing but my wearing

apparel. Is there no magistrate, or justice of the peace, in this wild

country, that would lend a hand to help one when he is among the

breakers?"

Mordaunt mentioned Magnus Troil, the principal proprietor, as well as

the Fowd, or provincial judge, of the district, as the person from whom

he was most likely to obtain redress; and regretted that his own youth,

and his father's situation as a retired stranger, should put it out of

their power to afford him the protection he required.

"Nay, for your part, you have done enough," said the sailor; "but if I

had five out of the forty brave fellows that are fishes' food by this

time, the devil a man would I ask to do me the right that I could do for

myself!"

"Forty hands!" said Mordaunt; "you were well manned for the size of the

ship."

"Not so well as we needed to be. We mounted ten guns, besides chasers;

but our cruise on the main had thinned us of men, and lumbered us up

with goods. Six of our guns were in ballast--Hands! if I had had enough

of hands, we would never have miscarried so infernally. The people were

knocked up with working the pumps, and so took to their boats, and left

me with the vessel, to sink or swim. But the dogs had their pay, and I

can afford to pardon them--The boat swamped in the current--all were

lost--and here am I."

"You had come north about then, from the West Indies?" said Mordaunt.

"Ay, ay; the vessel was the Good Hope of Bristol, a letter of marque.

She had fine luck down on the Spanish main, both with commerce and

privateering, but the luck's ended with her now. My name is Clement

Cleveland, captain, and part owner, as I said before--I am a Bristol man

born--my father was well known on the Tollsell--old Clem Cleveland of

the College-green."

Mordaunt had no right to enquire farther, and yet it seemed to him as if

his own mind was but half satisfied. There was an affectation of

bluntness, a sort of defiance, in the manner of the stranger, for which

circumstances afforded no occasion. Captain Cleveland had suffered

injustice from the islanders, but from Mordaunt he had only received

kindness and protection; yet he seemed as if he involved all the

neighbourhood in the wrongs he complained of. Mordaunt looked down and

was silent, doubting whether it would be better to take his leave, or to

proceed farther in his offers of assistance. Cleveland seemed to guess

at his thoughts, for he immediately added, in a conciliating manner,--"I

am a plain man, Master Mertoun, for that I understand is your name; and

I am a ruined man to boot, and that does not mend one's good manners.

But you have done a kind and friendly part by me, and it may be I think

as much of it as if I thanked you more. And so before I leave this

place, I'll give you my fowlingpiece; she will put a hundred swan-shot

through a Dutchman's cap at eighty paces--she will carry ball too--I

have hit a wild bull within a hundred-and-fifty yards--but I have two

pieces that are as good, or better, so you may keep this for my sake."

"That would be to take my share of the wreck," answered Mordaunt,

laughing.

"No such matter," said Cleveland, undoing a case which contained several

guns and pistols,--"you see I have saved my private arm-chest, as well

as my clothes--_that_ the tall old woman in the dark rigging managed for

me. And, between ourselves, it is worth all I have lost; for," he added,

lowering his voice, and looking round, "when I speak of being ruined in

the hearing of these landsharks, I do not mean ruined stock and block.

No, here is something will do more than shoot sea-fowl." So saying, he

pulled out a great ammunition-pouch marked swan-shot, and showed

Mordaunt, hastily, that it was full of Spanish pistoles and Portagues

(as the broad Portugal pieces were then called.) "No, no," he added,

with a smile, "I have ballast enough to trim the vessel again; and now,

will you take the piece?"

"Since you are willing to give it me," said Mordaunt, laughing, "with

all my heart. I was just going to ask you in my father's name," he

added, showing his purse, "whether you wanted any of that same ballast."

"Thanks, but you see I am provided--take my old acquaintance, and may

she serve you as well as she has served me; but you will never make so

good a voyage with her. You can shoot, I suppose?"

"Tolerably well," said Mordaunt, admiring the piece, which was a

beautiful Spanish-barrelled gun, inlaid with gold, small in the bore,

and of unusual length, such as is chiefly used for shooting sea-fowl,

and for ball-practice.

"With slugs," continued the donor, "never gun shot closer; and with

single ball, you may kill a seal two hundred yards at sea from the top

of the highest peak of this iron-bound coast of yours. But I tell you

again, that the old rattler will never do you the service she has done

me."

"I shall not use her so dexterously, perhaps," said Mordaunt.

"Umph!--perhaps not," replied Cleveland; "but that is not the question.

What say you to shooting the man at the wheel, just as we run aboard of

a Spaniard? So the Don was taken aback, and we laid him athwart the

hawse, and carried her cutlass in hand; and worth the while she

was--stout brigantine--El Santo Francisco--bound for Porto Bello, with

gold and negroes. That little bit of lead was worth twenty thousand

pistoles."

"I have shot at no such game as yet," said Mordaunt.

"Well, all in good time; we cannot weigh till the tide makes. But you

are a tight, handsome, active young man. What is to ail you to take a

trip after some of this stuff?" laying his hand on the bag of gold.

"My father talks of my travelling soon," replied Mordaunt, who, born to

hold men-of-wars-men in great respect, felt flattered by this invitation

from one who appeared a thorough-bred seaman.

"I respect him for the thought," said the Captain; "and I will visit him

before I weigh anchor. I have a consort off these islands, and be cursed

to her. She'll find me out somewhere, though she parted company in the

bit of a squall, unless she is gone to Davy Jones too.--Well, she was

better found than we, and not so deep loaded--she must have weathered

it. We'll have a hammock slung for you aboard, and make a sailor and a

man of you in the same trip."

"I should like it well enough," said Mordaunt, who eagerly longed to

see more of the world than his lonely situation had hitherto permitted;

"but then my father must decide."

"Your father? pooh!" said Captain Cleveland;--"but you are very right,"

he added, checking himself; "Gad, I have lived so long at sea, that I

cannot imagine any body has a right to think except the captain and the

master. But you are very right. I will go up to the old gentleman this

instant, and speak to him myself. He lives in that handsome,

modern-looking building, I suppose, that I see a quarter of a mile off?"

"In that old half-ruined house," said Mordaunt, "he does indeed live;

but he will see no visitors."

"Then you must drive the point yourself, for I can't stay in this

latitude. Since your father is no magistrate, I must go to see this same

Magnus--how call you him?--who is not justice of peace, but something

else that will do the turn as well. These fellows have got two or three

things that I must and will have back--let them keep the rest and be

d----d to them. Will you give me a letter to him, just by way of

commission?"

"It is scarce needful," said Mordaunt. "It is enough that you are

shipwrecked, and need his help;--but yet I may as well furnish you with

a letter of introduction."

"There," said the sailor, producing a writing-case from his chest, "are

your writing-tools.--Meantime, since bulk has been broken, I will nail

down the hatches, and make sure of the cargo."

While Mordaunt, accordingly, was engaged in writing to Magnus Troil a

letter, setting forth the circumstances in which Captain Cleveland had

been thrown upon their coast, the Captain, having first selected and

laid aside some wearing apparel and necessaries enough to fill a

knapsack, took in hand hammer and nails, employed himself in securing

the lid of his sea-chest, by fastening it down in a workmanlike manner,

and then added the corroborating security of a cord, twisted and knotted

with nautical dexterity. "I leave this in your charge," he said, "all

except this," showing the bag of gold, "and these," pointing to a

cutlass and pistols, "which may prevent all further risk of my parting

company with my Portagues."

"You will find no occasion for weapons in this country, Captain

Cleveland," replied Mordaunt; "a child might travel with a purse of gold

from Sumburgh-head to the Scaw of Unst, and no soul would injure him."

"And that's pretty boldly said, young gentleman, considering what is

going on without doors at this moment."

"O," replied Mordaunt, a little confused, "what comes on land with the

tide, they reckon their lawful property. One would think they had

studied under Sir Arthegal, who pronounces--

'For equal right in equal things doth stand,

And what the mighty sea hath once possess'd,

And plucked quite from all possessors' hands,

Or else by wrecks that wretches have distress'd,

He may dispose, by his resistless might,

As things at random left, to whom he list.'"

"I shall think the better of plays and ballads as long as I live, for

these very words," said Captain Cleveland; "and yet I have loved them

well enough in my day. But this is good doctrine, and more men than one

may trim their sails to such a breeze. What the sea sends is ours,

that's sure enough. However, in case that your good folks should think

the land as well as the sea may present them with waiffs and strays, I

will make bold to take my cutlass and pistols.--Will you cause my chest

to be secured in your own house till you hear from me, and use your

influence to procure me a guide to show me the way, and to carry my

kit?"

"Will you go by sea or land?" said Mordaunt, in reply.

"By sea!" exclaimed Cleveland. "What--in one of these cockleshells, and

a cracked cockleshell, to boot? No, no--land, land, unless I knew my

crew, my vessel, and my voyage."

They parted accordingly, Captain Cleveland being supplied with a guide

to conduct him to Burgh-Westra, and his chest being carefully removed to

the mansion-house at Jarlshof.

FOOTNOTES:

[33] This was literally true.

CHAPTER IX.

This is a gentle trader, and a prudent.

He's no Autolycus, to blear your eye,

With quips of worldly gauds and gamesomeness;

But seasons all his glittering merchandise

With wholesome doctrines, suited to the use,

As men sauce goose with sage and rosemary.

_Old Play._

On the subsequent morning, Mordaunt, in answer to his father's

enquiries, began to give him some account of the shipwrecked mariner,

whom he had rescued from the waves. But he had not proceeded far in

recapitulating the particulars which Cleveland had communicated, when

Mr. Mertoun's looks became disturbed--he arose hastily, and, after

pacing twice or thrice across the room, he retired into the inner

chamber, to which he usually confined himself, while under the influence

of his mental malady. In the evening he re-appeared, without any traces

of his disorder; but it may be easily supposed that his son avoided

recurring to the subject which had affected him.

Mordaunt Mertoun was thus left without assistance, to form at his

leisure his own opinion respecting the new acquaintance which the sea

had sent him; and, upon the whole, he was himself surprised to find the

result less favourable to the stranger than he could well account for.

There seemed to Mordaunt to be a sort of repelling influence about the

man. True, he was a handsome man, of a frank and prepossessing manner,

but there was an assumption of superiority about him, which Mordaunt did

not quite so much like. Although he was so keen a sportsman as to be

delighted with his acquisition of the Spanish-barrelled gun, and

accordingly mounted and dismounted it with great interest, paying the

utmost attention to the most minute parts about the lock and ornaments,

yet he was, upon the whole, inclined to have some scruples about the

mode in which he had acquired it.

"I should not have accepted it," he thought; "perhaps Captain Cleveland

might give it me as a sort of payment for the trifling service I did

him; and yet it would have been churlish to refuse it in the way it was

offered. I wish he had looked more like a man whom one would have chosen

to be obliged to."

But a successful day's shooting reconciled him to his gun, and he became

assured, like most young sportsmen in similar circumstances, that all

other pieces were but pop-guns in comparison. But then, to be doomed to

shoot gulls and seals, when there were Frenchmen and Spaniards to be

come at--when there were ships to be boarded, and steersmen to be marked

off, seemed but a dull and contemptible destiny. His father had

mentioned his leaving these islands, and no other mode of occupation

occurred to his inexperience, save that of the sea, with which he had

been conversant from his infancy. His ambition had formerly aimed no

higher than at sharing the fatigues and dangers of a Greenland fishing

expedition; for it was in that scene that the Zetlanders laid most of

their perilous adventures. But war was again raging, the history of Sir

Francis Drake, Captain Morgan, and other bold adventurers, an account of

whose exploits he had purchased from Bryce Snailsfoot, had made much

impression on his mind, and the offer of Captain Cleveland to take him

to sea, frequently recurred to him, although the pleasure of such a

project was somewhat damped by a doubt, whether, in the long run, he

should not find many objections to his proposed commander. Thus much he

already saw, that he was opinionative, and might probably prove

arbitrary; and that, since even his kindness was mingled with an

assumption of superiority, his occasional displeasure might contain a

great deal more of that disagreeable ingredient than could be palatable

to those who sailed under him. And yet, after counting all risks, could

his father's consent be obtained, with what pleasure, he thought, would

he embark in quest of new scenes and strange adventures, in which he

proposed to himself to achieve such deeds as should be the theme of many

a tale to the lovely sisters of Burgh-Westra--tales at which Minna

should weep, and Brenda should smile, and both should marvel! And this

was to be the reward of his labours and his dangers; for the hearth of

Magnus Troil had a magnetic influence over his thoughts, and however

they might traverse amid his day-dreams, it was the point where they

finally settled.

There were times when Mordaunt thought of mentioning to his father the

conversation he had held with Captain Cleveland, and the seaman's

proposal to him; but the very short and general account which he had

given of that person's history, upon the morning after his departure

from the hamlet, had produced a sinister effect on Mr. Mertoun's mind,

and discouraged him from speaking farther on any subject connected with

it. It would be time enough, he thought, to mention Captain Cleveland's

proposal, when his consort should arrive, and when he should repeat his

offer in a more formal manner; and these he supposed events likely very

soon to happen.

But days grew to weeks, and weeks were numbered into months, and he

heard nothing from Cleveland; and only learned by an occasional visit

from Bryce Snailsfoot, that the Captain was residing at Burgh-Westra, as

one of the family. Mordaunt was somewhat surprised at this, although the

unlimited hospitality of the islands, which Magnus Troil, both from

fortune and disposition, carried to the utmost extent, made it almost a

matter of course that he should remain in the family until he disposed

of himself otherwise. Still it seemed strange he had not gone to some of

the northern isles to enquire after his consort; or that he did not

rather choose to make Lerwick his residence, where fishing vessels often

brought news from the coasts and ports of Scotland and Holland. Again,

why did he not send for the chest he had deposited at Jarlshof? and

still farther, Mordaunt thought it would have been but polite if the

stranger had sent him some sort of message in token of remembrance.

These subjects of reflection were connected with another still more

unpleasant, and more difficult to account for. Until the arrival of this

person, scarce a week had passed without bringing him some kind

greeting, or token of recollection, from Burgh-Westra; and pretences

were scarce ever wanting for maintaining a constant intercourse. Minna

wanted the words of a Norse ballad; or desired to have, for her various

collections, feathers, or eggs, or shells, or specimens of the rarer

sea-weeds; or Brenda sent a riddle to be resolved, or a song to be

learned; or the honest old Udaller,--in a rude manuscript, which might

have passed for an ancient Runic inscription,--sent his hearty greetings

to his good young friend, with a present of something to make good

cheer, and an earnest request he would come to Burgh-Westra as soon, and

stay there as long, as possible. These kindly tokens of remembrance were

often sent by special message; besides which, there was never a

passenger or a traveller, who crossed from the one mansion to the other,

who did not bring to Mordaunt some friendly greeting from the Udaller

and his family. Of late, this intercourse had become more and more

infrequent; and no messenger from Burgh-Westra had visited Jarlshof for

several weeks. Mordaunt both observed and felt this alteration, and it

dwelt on his mind, while he questioned Bryce as closely as pride and

prudence would permit, to ascertain, if possible, the cause of the

change. Yet he endeavoured to assume an indifferent air while he asked

the jagger whether there were no news in the country.

"Great news," the jagger replied; "and a gay mony of them. That

crackbrained carle, the new factor, is for making a change in the

_bismars_ and the _lispunds_;[34] and our worthy Fowd, Magnus Troil, has

sworn, that, sooner than change them for the still-yard, or aught else,

he'll fling Factor Yellowley from Brassa-craig."

"Is that all?" said Mordaunt, very little interested.

"All? and eneugh, I think," replied the pedlar. "How are folks to buy

and sell, if the weights are changed on them?"

"Very true," replied Mordaunt; "but have you heard of no strange vessels

on the coast?"

"Six Dutch doggers off Brassa; and, as I hear, a high-quartered galliot

thing, with a gaff mainsail, lying in Scalloway Bay. She will be from

Norway."

"No ships of war, or sloops?"

"None," replied the pedlar, "since the Kite Tender sailed with the

impress men. If it was His will, and our men were out of her, I wish the

deep sea had her!"

"Were there no news at Burgh-Westra?--Were the family all well?"

"A' weel, and weel to do--out-taken, it may be, something ower muckle

daffing and laughing--dancing ilk night, they say, wi' the stranger

captain that's living there--him that was ashore on Sumburgh-head the

tother day,--less daffing served him then."

"Daffing! dancing every night!" said Mordaunt, not particularly well

satisfied--"Whom does Captain Cleveland dance with?"

"Ony body he likes, I fancy," said the jagger; "at ony rate, he gars a'

body yonder dance after his fiddle. But I ken little about it, for I am

no free in conscience to look upon thae flinging fancies. Folk should

mind that life is made but of rotten yarn."

"I fancy that it is to keep them in mind of that wholesome truth, that

you deal in such tender wares, Bryce," replied Mordaunt, dissatisfied as

well with the tenor of the reply, as with the affected scruples of the

respondent.

"That's as muckle as to say, that I suld hae minded you was a flinger

and a fiddler yoursell, Maister Mordaunt; but I am an auld man, and maun

unburden my conscience. But ye will be for the dance, I sall warrant,

that's to be at Burgh-Westra, on John's Even, (_Saunt_ John's, as the

blinded creatures ca' him,) and nae doubt ye will be for some warldly

braws--hose, waistcoats, or sic like? I hae pieces frae Flanders."--With

that he placed his movable warehouse on the table, and began to unlock

it.

"Dance!" repeated Mordaunt--"Dance on St. John's Even?--Were you desired

to bid me to it, Bryce?"

"Na--but ye ken weel eneugh ye wad be welcome, bidden or no bidden. This

captain--how ca' ye him?--is to be skudler, as they ca't--the first of

the gang, like."

"The devil take him!" said Mordaunt, in impatient surprise.

"A' in gude time," replied the jagger; "hurry no man's cattle--the devil

will hae his due, I warrant ye, or it winna be for lack of seeking. But

it's true I'm telling you, for a' ye stare like a wild-cat; and this

same captain,--I watna his name,--bought ane of the very waistcoats that

I am ganging to show ye--purple, wi' a gowd binding, and bonnily

broidered; and I have a piece for you, the neighbour of it, wi' a green

grund; and if ye mean to streek yoursell up beside him, ye maun e'en buy

it, for it's gowd that glances in the lasses' een now-a-days. See--look

till't," he added, displaying the pattern in various points of view;

"look till _it_ through the light, and till the light through

_it_--_wi'_ the grain, and _against_ the grain--it shows ony gate--cam

frae Antwerp a' the gate--four dollars is the price; and yon captain was

sae weel pleased that he flang down a twenty shilling Jacobus, and bade

me keep the change and be d----d!--poor silly profane creature, I pity

him."

Without enquiring whether the pedlar bestowed his compassion on the

worldly imprudence or the religious deficiencies of Captain Cleveland,

Mordaunt turned from him, folded his arms, and paced the apartment,

muttering to himself, "Not asked--A stranger to be king of the

feast!"--Words which he repeated so earnestly, that Bryce caught a part

of their import.

"As for asking, I am almaist bauld to say, that ye will be asked,

Maister Mordaunt."

"Did they mention my name, then?" said Mordaunt.

"I canna preceesely say that," said Bryce Snailsfoot;--"but ye needna

turn away your head sae sourly, like a sealgh when he leaves the shore;

for, do you see, I heard distinctly that a' the revellers about are to

be there; and is't to be thought they would leave out you, an auld kend

freend, and the lightest foot at sic frolics (Heaven send you a better

praise in His ain gude time!) that ever flang at a fiddle-squeak,

between this and Unst? Sae I consider ye altogether the same as

invited--and ye had best provide yourself wi' a waistcoat, for brave and

brisk will every man be that's there--the Lord pity them!"

He thus continued to follow with his green glazen eyes the motions of

young Mordaunt Mertoun, who was pacing the room in a very pensive

manner, which the jagger probably misinterpreted, as he thought, like

Claudio, that if a man is sad, it must needs be because he lacks money.

Bryce, therefore, after another pause, thus accosted him. "Ye needna be

sad about the matter, Maister Mordaunt; for although I got the just

price of the article from the captain-man, yet I maun deal freendly wi'

you, as a kend freend and customer, and bring the price, as they say,

within your purse-mouth--or it's the same to me to let it lie ower till

Martinmas, or e'en to Candlemas. I am decent in the warld, Maister

Mordaunt--forbid that I should hurry ony body, far mair a freend that

has paid me siller afore now. Or I wad be content to swap the garment

for the value in feathers or sea-otters' skins, or ony kind of

peltrie--nane kens better than yoursell how to come by sic ware--and I

am sure I hae furnished you wi' the primest o' powder. I dinna ken if I

tell'd ye it was out o' the kist of Captain Plunket, that perished on

the Scaw of Unst, wi' the armed brig Mary, sax years syne. He was a

prime fowler himself, and luck it was that the kist came ashore dry. I

sell that to nane but gude marksmen. And so, I was saying, if ye had ony

wares ye liked to coup[35] for the waistcoat, I wad be ready to trock

wi' you, for assuredly ye will be wanted at Burgh-Westra, on Saint

John's Even; and ye wadna like to look waur than the Captain--that wadna

be setting."

"I will be there at least, whether wanted or not," said Mordaunt,

stopping short in his walk, and taking the waistcoat-piece hastily out

of the pedlar's hand; "and, as you say, will not disgrace them."

"Haud a care--haud a care, Maister Mordaunt," exclaimed the pedlar; "ye

handle it as it were a bale of coarse wadmaal--ye'll fray't to bits--ye

might weel say my ware is tender--and ye'll mind the price is four

dollars--Sall I put ye in my book for it?"

"No," said Mordaunt, hastily; and, taking out his purse, he flung down

the money.

"Grace to ye to wear the garment," said the joyous pedlar, "and to me

to guide the siller; and protect us from earthly vanities, and earthly

covetousness; and send you the white linen raiment, whilk is mair to be

desired than the muslins, and cambrics, and lawns, and silks of this

world; and send me the talents which avail more than much fine Spanish

gold, or Dutch dollars either--and--but God guide the callant, what for

is he wrapping the silk up that gate, like a wisp of hay?"

At this moment, old Swertha the housekeeper entered, to whom, as if

eager to get rid of the subject, Mordaunt threw his purchase, with

something like careless disdain; and, telling her to put it aside,

snatched his gun, which stood in the corner, threw his shooting

accoutrements about him, and, without noticing Bryce's attempt to enter

into conversation upon the "braw seal-skin, as saft as doe-leather,"

which made the sling and cover of his fowlingpiece, he left the

apartment abruptly.

The jagger, with those green, goggling, and gain-descrying kind of

optics, which we have already described, continued gazing for an instant

after the customer, who treated his wares with such irreverence.

Swertha also looked after him with some surprise. "The callant's in a

creel," quoth she.

"In a creel!" echoed the pedlar; "he will be as wowf as ever his father

was. To guide in that gate a bargain that cost him four dollars!--very,

very Fifish, as the east-country fisher-folk say."

"Four dollars for that green rag!" said Swertha, catching at the words

which the jagger had unwarily suffered to escape--"that was a bargain

indeed! I wonder whether he is the greater fule, or you the mair rogue,

Bryce Snailsfoot."

"I didna say it cost him preceesely four dollars," said Snailsfoot; "but

if it had, the lad's siller's his ain, I hope; and he is auld eneugh to

make his ain bargains. Mair by token the gudes are weel worth the money,

and mair."

"Mair by token," said Swertha, coolly, "I will see what his father

thinks about it."

"Ye'll no be sae ill-natured, Mrs. Swertha," said the jagger; "that will

be but cauld thanks for the bonny owerlay that I hae brought you a' the

way frae Lerwick."

"And a bonny price ye'll be setting on't," said Swertha; "for that's the

gate your good deeds end."

"Ye sall hae the fixing of the price yoursell; or it may lie ower till

ye're buying something for the house, or for your master, and it can

make a' ae count."

"Troth, and that's true, Bryce Snailsfoot, I am thinking we'll want some

napery sune--for it's no to be thought we can spin, and the like, as if

there was a mistress in the house; and sae we make nane at hame."

"And that's what I ca' walking by the word," said the jagger. "'Go unto

those that buy and sell;' there's muckle profit in that text."

"There is a pleasure in dealing wi' a discreet man, that can make profit

of ony thing," said Swertha; "and now that I take another look at that

daft callant's waistcoat piece, I think it _is_ honestly worth four

dollars."

FOOTNOTES:

[34] These are weights of Norwegian origin, still used in Zetland.

[35] Barter.

CHAPTER X.

I have possessed the regulation of the weather and the

distribution of the seasons. The sun has listened to my

dictates, and passed from tropic to tropic by my direction;

the clouds, at my command, have poured forth their waters.

RASSELAS.

Any sudden cause for anxious and mortifying reflection, which, in

advanced age, occasions sullen and pensive inactivity, stimulates youth

to eager and active exertion; as if, like the hurt deer, they

endeavoured to drown the pain of the shaft by the rapidity of motion.

When Mordaunt caught up his gun, and rushed out of the house of

Jarlshof, he walked on with great activity over waste and wild, without

any determined purpose, except that of escaping, if possible, from the

smart of his own irritation. His pride was effectually mortified by the

report of the jagger, which coincided exactly with some doubts he had

been led to entertain, by the long and unkind silence of his friends at

Burgh-Westra.

If the fortunes of Cæsar had doomed him, as the poet suggests, to have

been

"But the best wrestler on the green,"

it is nevertheless to be presumed, that a foil from a rival, in that

rustic exercise, would have mortified him as much as a defeat from a

competitor, when he was struggling for the empery of the world. And even

so Mordaunt Mertoun, degraded in his own eyes from the height which he

had occupied as the chief amongst the youth of the island, felt vexed

and irritated, as well as humbled. The two beautiful sisters, also,

whose smiles all were so desirous of acquiring, with whom he had lived

on terms of such familiar affection, that, with the same ease and

innocence, there was unconsciously mixed a shade of deeper though

undefined tenderness than characterises fraternal love,--they also

seemed to have forgotten him. He could not be ignorant, that, in the

universal opinion of all Dunrossness, nay, of the whole Mainland, he

might have had every chance of being the favoured lover of either; and

now at once, and without any failure on his part, he was become so

little to them, that he had lost even the consequence of an ordinary

acquaintance. The old Udaller, too, whose hearty and sincere character

should have made him more constant in his friendships, seemed to have

been as fickle as his daughters, and poor Mordaunt had at once lost the

smiles of the fair, and the favour of the powerful. These were

uncomfortable reflections, and he doubled his pace, that he might

outstrip them if possible.

Without exactly reflecting upon the route which he pursued, Mordaunt

walked briskly on through a country where neither hedge, wall, nor

enclosure of any kind, interrupts the steps of the wanderer, until he

reached a very solitary spot, where, embosomed among steep heathy hills,

which sunk suddenly down on the verge of the water, lay one of those

small fresh-water lakes which are common in the Zetland isles, whose

outlets form the sources of the small brooks and rivulets by which the

country is watered, and serve to drive the little mills which

manufacture their grain.

It was a mild summer day; the beams of the sun, as is not uncommon in

Zetland, were moderated and shaded by a silvery haze, which filled the

atmosphere, and destroying the strong contrast of light and shade, gave

even to noon the sober livery of the evening twilight. The little lake,

not three-quarters of a mile in circuit, lay in profound quiet; its

surface undimpled, save when one of the numerous water-fowl, which

glided on its surface, dived for an instant under it. The depth of the

water gave the whole that cerulean tint of bluish green, which

occasioned its being called the Green Loch; and at present, it formed so

perfect a mirror to the bleak hills by which it was surrounded, and

which lay reflected on its bosom, that it was difficult to distinguish

the water from the land; nay, in the shadowy uncertainty occasioned by

the thin haze, a stranger could scarce have been sensible that a sheet

of water lay before him. A scene of more complete solitude, having all

its peculiarities heightened by the extreme serenity of the weather, the

quiet grey composed tone of the atmosphere, and the perfect silence of

the elements, could hardly be imagined. The very aquatic birds, who

frequented the spot in great numbers, forbore their usual flight and

screams, and floated in profound tranquillity upon the silent water.

Without taking any determined aim--without having any determined

purpose--without almost thinking what he was about, Mordaunt presented

his fowlingpiece, and fired across the lake. The large swan shot dimpled

its surface like a partial shower of hail--the hills took up the noise

of the report, and repeated it again, and again, and again, to all their

echoes; the water-fowl took to wing in eddying and confused wheel,

answering the echoes with a thousand varying screams, from the deep note

of the swabie, or swartback, to the querulous cry of the tirracke and

kittiewake.

Mordaunt looked for a moment on the clamorous crowd with a feeling of

resentment, which he felt disposed at the moment to apply to all nature,

and all her objects, animate or inanimate, however little concerned with

the cause of his internal mortification.

"Ay, ay," he said, "wheel, dive, scream, and clamour as you will, and

all because you have seen a strange sight, and heard an unusual sound.

There is many a one like you in this round world. But you, at least,

shall learn," he added, as he reloaded his gun, "that strange sights and

strange sounds, ay, and strange acquaintances to boot, have sometimes a

little shade of danger connected with them.--But why should I wreak my

own vexation on these harmless sea-gulls?" he subjoined, after a

moment's pause; "they have nothing to do with the friends that have

forgotten me.--I loved them all so well,--and to be so soon given up for

the first stranger whom chance threw on the coast!"

As he stood resting upon his gun, and abandoning his mind to the course

of these unpleasant reflections, his meditations were unexpectedly

interrupted by some one touching his shoulder. He looked around, and saw

Norna of the Fitful-head, wrapped in her dark and ample mantle. She had

seen him from the brow of the hill, and had descended to the lake,

through a small ravine which concealed her, until she came with

noiseless step so close to him that he turned round at her touch.

Mordaunt Mertoun was by nature neither timorous nor credulous, and a

course of reading more extensive than usual had, in some degree,

fortified his mind against the attacks of superstition; but he would

have been an actual prodigy, if, living in Zetland in the end of the

seventeenth century, he had possessed the philosophy which did not exist

in Scotland generally, until at least two generations later. He doubted

in his own mind the extent, nay, the very existence, of Norna's

supernatural attributes, which was a high flight of incredulity in the

country where they were universally received; but still his incredulity

went no farther than doubts. She was unquestionably an extraordinary

woman, gifted with an energy above others, acting upon motives peculiar

to herself, and apparently independent of mere earthly considerations.

Impressed with these ideas, which he had imbibed from his youth, it was

not without something like alarm, that he beheld this mysterious female

standing on a sudden so close beside him, and looking upon him with such

sad and severe eyes, as those with which the Fatal Virgins, who,

according to northern mythology, were called the _Valkyriur_, or

"Choosers of the Slain," were supposed to regard the young champions

whom they selected to share the banquet of Odin.

It was, indeed, reckoned unlucky, to say the least, to meet with Norna

suddenly alone, and in a place remote from witnesses; and she was

supposed, on such occasions, to have been usually a prophetess of evil,

as well as an omen of misfortune, to those who had such a rencontre.

There were few or none of the islanders, however familiarized with her

occasional appearance in society, that would not have trembled to meet

her on the solitary banks of the Green Loch.

"I bring you no evil, Mordaunt Mertoun," she said, reading perhaps

something of this superstitious feeling in the looks of the young man.

"Evil from me you never felt, and never will."

"Nor do I fear any," said Mordaunt, exerting himself to throw aside an

apprehension which he felt to be unmanly. "Why should I, mother? You

have been ever my friend."

"Yet, Mordaunt, thou art not of our region; but to none of Zetland

blood, no, not even to those who sit around the hearth-stone of Magnus

Troil, the noble descendants of the ancient Jarls of Orkney, am I more a

well-wisher, than I am to thee, thou kind and brave-hearted boy. When I

hung around thy neck that gifted chain, which all in our isles know was

wrought by no earthly artist, but by the Drows,[36] in the secret

recesses of their caverns, thou wert then but fifteen years old; yet thy

foot had been on the Maiden-skerrie of Northmaven, known before but to

the webbed sole of the swartback, and thy skiff had been in the deepest

cavern of Brinnastir, where the _haaf-fish_[37] had before slumbered in

dark obscurity. Therefore I gave thee that noble gift; and well thou

knowest, that since that day, every eye in these isles has looked on

thee as a son, or as a brother, endowed beyond other youths, and the

favoured of those whose hour of power is when the night meets with the

day."

"Alas! mother," said Mordaunt, "your kind gift may have given me favour,

but it has not been able to keep it for me, or I have not been able to

keep it for myself.--What matters it? I shall learn to set as little by

others as they do by me. My father says that I shall soon leave these

islands, and therefore, Mother Norna, I will return to you your fairy

gift, that it may bring more lasting luck to some other than it has done

to me."

"Despise not the gift of the nameless race," said Norna, frowning; then

suddenly changing her tone of displeasure to that of mournful solemnity,

she added,--"Despise them not, but, O Mordaunt, court them not! Sit down

on that grey stone--thou art the son of my adoption, and I will doff, as

far as I may, those attributes that sever me from the common mass of

humanity, and speak with you as a parent with a child."

There was a tremulous tone of grief which mingled with the loftiness of

her language and carriage, and was calculated to excite sympathy, as

well as to attract attention. Mordaunt sat down on the rock which she

pointed out, a fragment which, with many others that lay scattered

around, had been torn by some winter storm from the precipice at the

foot of which it lay, upon the very verge of the water. Norna took her

own seat on a stone at about three feet distance, adjusted her mantle so

that little more than her forehead, her eyes, and a single lock of her

grey hair, were seen from beneath the shade of her dark wadmaal cloak,

and then proceeded in a tone in which the imaginary consequence and

importance so often assumed by lunacy, seemed to contend against the

deep workings of some extraordinary and deeply-rooted mental affliction.

"I was not always," she said, "that which I now am. I was not always the

wise, the powerful, the commanding, before whom the young stand abashed,

and the old uncover their grey heads. There was a time when my

appearance did not silence mirth, when I sympathized with human passion,

and had my own share in human joy or sorrow. It was a time of

helplessness--it was a time of folly--it was a time of idle and

unfruitful laughter--it was a time of causeless and senseless

tears;--and yet, with its follies, and its sorrows, and its weaknesses,

what would Norna of Fitful-head give to be again the unmarked and happy

maiden that she was in her early days! Hear me, Mordaunt, and bear with

me; for you hear me utter complaints which have never sounded in mortal

ears, and which in mortal ears shall never sound again. I will be what I

ought," she continued, starting up and extending her lean and withered

arm, "the queen and protectress of these wild and neglected isles,--I

will be her whose foot the wave wets not, save by her permission; ay,

even though its rage be at its wildest madness--whose robe the whirlwind

respects, when it rends the house-rigging from the roof-tree. Bear me

witness, Mordaunt Mertoun,--you heard my words at Harfra--you saw the

tempest sink before them--Speak, bear me witness!"

To have contradicted her in this strain of high-toned enthusiasm, would

have been cruel and unavailing, even had Mordaunt been more decidedly

convinced than he was, that an insane woman, not one of supernatural

power, stood before him.

"I heard you sing," he replied, "and I saw the tempest abate."

"Abate?" exclaimed Norna, striking the ground impatiently with her staff

of black oak; "thou speakest it but half--it sunk at once--sunk in

shorter space than the child that is hushed to silence by the

nurse.--Enough, you know my power--but you know not--mortal man knows

not, and never shall know, the price which I paid to attain it. No,

Mordaunt, never for the widest sway that the ancient Norsemen boasted,

when their banners waved victorious from Bergen to Palestine--never, for

all that the round world contains, do thou barter thy peace of mind for

such greatness as Norna's." She resumed her seat upon the rock, drew the

mantle over her face, rested her head upon her hands, and by the

convulsive motion which agitated her bosom, appeared to be weeping

bitterly.

"Good Norna," said Mordaunt, and paused, scarce knowing what to say that

might console the unhappy woman--"Good Norna," he again resumed, "if

there be aught in your mind that troubles it, were you not best to go to

the worthy minister at Dunrossness? Men say you have not for many years

been in a Christian congregation--that cannot be well, or right. You are

yourself well known as a healer of bodily disease; but when the mind is

sick, we should draw to the Physician of our souls."

Norna had raised her person slowly from the stooping posture in which

she sat; but at length she started up on her feet, threw back her

mantle, extended her arm, and while her lip foamed, and her eye

sparkled, exclaimed in a tone resembling a scream,--"Me did you

speak--me did you bid seek out a priest!--would you kill the good man

with horror?--Me in a Christian congregation!--Would you have the roof

to fall on the sackless assembly, and mingle their blood with their

worship? I--I seek to the good Physician!--Would you have the fiend

claim his prey openly before God and man?"

The extreme agitation of the unhappy speaker naturally led Mordaunt to

the conclusion, which was generally adopted and accredited in that

superstitious country and period. "Wretched woman," he said, "if indeed

thou hast leagued thyself with the Powers of Evil, why should you not

seek even yet for repentance? But do as thou wilt, I cannot, dare not,

as a Christian, abide longer with you; and take again your gift," he

said, offering back the chain. "Good can never come of it, if indeed

evil hath not come already."

"Be still and hear me, thou foolish boy," said Norna, calmly, as if she

had been restored to reason by the alarm and horror which she perceived

in Mordaunt's countenance;--"hear me, I say. I am not of those who have

leagued themselves with the Enemy of Mankind, or derive skill or power

from his ministry. And although the unearthly powers _were_ propitiated

by a sacrifice which human tongue can never utter, yet, God knows, my

guilt in that offering was no more than that of the blind man who falls

from the precipice which he could neither see nor shun. O, leave me

not--shun me not--in this hour of weakness! Remain with me till the

temptation be passed, or I will plunge myself into that lake, and rid

myself at once of my power and my wretchedness!"

Mordaunt, who had always looked up to this singular woman with a sort of

affection, occasioned no doubt by the early kindness and distinction

which she had shown to him, was readily induced to reassume his seat,

and listen to what she had further to say, in hopes that she would

gradually overcome the violence of her agitation. It was not long ere

she seemed to have gained the victory her companion expected, for she

addressed him in her usual steady and authoritative manner.

"It was not of myself, Mordaunt, that I purposed to speak, when I beheld

you from the summit of yonder grey rock, and came down the path to meet

with you. My fortunes are fixed beyond change, be it for weal or for

woe. For myself I have ceased to feel much; but for those whom she

loves, Norna of the Fitful-head has still those feelings which link her

to her kind. Mark me. There is an eagle, the noblest that builds in

these airy precipices, and into that eagle's nest there has crept an

adder--wilt thou lend thy aid to crush the reptile, and to save the

noble brood of the lord of the north sky?"

"You must speak more plainly, Norna," said Mordaunt, "if you would have

me understand or answer you. I am no guesser of riddles."

"In plain language, then, you know well the family of Burgh-Westra--the

lovely daughters of the generous old Udaller, Magnus Troil,--Minna and

Brenda, I mean? You know them, and you love them?"

"I have known them, mother," replied Mordaunt, "and I have loved

them--none knows it better than yourself."

"To know them once," said Norna, emphatically, "is to know them always.

To love them once, is to love them for ever."

"To have loved them once, is to wish them well for ever," replied the

youth; "but it is nothing more. To be plain with you, Norna, the family

at Burgh-Westra have of late totally neglected me. But show me the means

of serving them, I will convince you how much I have remembered old

kindness, how little I resent late coldness."

"It is well spoken, and I will put your purpose to the proof," replied

Norna. "Magnus Troil has taken a serpent into his bosom--his lovely

daughters are delivered up to the machinations of a villain."

"You mean the stranger, Cleveland?" said Mordaunt.

"The stranger who so calls himself," replied Norna--"the same whom we

found flung ashore, like a waste heap of sea-weed, at the foot of the

Sumburgh-cape. I felt that within me, that would have prompted me to let

him lie till the tide floated him off, as it had floated him on shore. I

repent me I gave not way to it."

"But," said Mordaunt, "I cannot repent that I did my duty as a Christian

man. And what right have I to wish otherwise? If Minna, Brenda, Magnus,

and the rest, like that stranger better than me, I have no title to be

offended; nay, I might well be laughed at for bringing myself into

comparison."

"It is well, and I trust they merit thy unselfish friendship."

"But I cannot perceive," said Mordaunt, "in what you can propose that I

should serve them. I have but just learned by Bryce the jagger, that

this Captain Cleveland is all in all with the ladies at Burgh-Westra,

and with the Udaller himself. I would like ill to intrude myself where I

am not welcome, or to place my home-bred merit in comparison with

Captain Cleveland's. He can tell them of battles, when I can only speak

of birds' nests--can speak of shooting Frenchmen, when I can only tell

of shooting seals--he wears gay clothes, and bears a brave countenance;

I am plainly dressed, and plainly nurtured. Such gay gallants as he can

noose the hearts of those he lives with, as the fowler nooses the

guillemot with his rod and line."

"You do wrong to yourself," replied Norna, "wrong to yourself, and

greater wrong to Minna and Brenda. And trust not the reports of

Bryce--he is like the greedy chaffer-whale, that will change his course

and dive for the most petty coin which a fisher can cast at him. Certain

it is, that if you have been lessened in the opinion of Magnus Troil,

that sordid fellow hath had some share in it. But let him count his

vantage, for my eye is upon him."

"And why, mother," said Mordaunt, "do you not tell to Magnus what you

have told to me?"

"Because," replied Norna, "they who wax wise in their own conceit must

be taught a bitter lesson by experience. It was but yesterday that I

spoke with Magnus, and what was his reply?--'Good Norna, you grow old.'

And this was spoken by one bounden to me by so many and such close

ties--by the descendant of the ancient Norse earls--this was from Magnus

Troil to me; and it was said in behalf of one, whom the sea flung forth

as wreck-weed! Since he despises the counsel of the aged, he shall be

taught by that of the young; and well that he is not left to his own

folly. Go, therefore, to Burgh-Westra, as usual, upon the Baptist's

festival."

"I have had no invitation," said Mordaunt; "I am not wanted, not wished

for, not thought of--perhaps I shall not be acknowledged if I go

thither; and yet, mother, to confess the truth, thither I had thought to

go."

"It was a good thought, and to be cherished," replied Norna; "we seek

our friends when they are sick in health, why not when they are sick in

mind, and surfeited with prosperity? Do not fail to go--it may be, we

shall meet there. Meanwhile our roads lie different. Farewell, and speak

not of this meeting."

They parted, and Mordaunt remained standing by the lake, with his eyes

fixed on Norna, until her tall dark form became invisible among the

windings of the valley down which she wandered, and Mordaunt returned to

his father's mansion, determined to follow counsel which coincided so

well with his own wishes.

FOOTNOTES:

[36] The Drows, or Trows, the legitimate successors of the northern

_duergar_, and somewhat allied to the fairies, reside, like them, in the

interior of green hills and caverns, and are most powerful at midnight.

They are curious artificers in iron, as well as in the precious metals,

and are sometimes propitious to mortals, but more frequently capricious

and malevolent. Among the common people of Zetland, their existence

still forms an article of universal belief. In the neighbouring isles of

Feroe, they are called Foddenskencand, or subterranean people; and Lucas

Jacobson Debes,(_h_) well acquainted with their nature, assures us that

they inhabit those places which are polluted with the effusion of blood,

or the practice of any crying sin. They have a government, which seems

to be monarchical.

[37] The larger seal, or sea-calf, which seeks the most solitary

recesses for its abode. See Dr. EDMONSTONE'S _Zetland_, vol. ii., p.

294.

CHAPTER XI.

----All your ancient customs,

And long-descended usages, I'll change.

Ye shall not eat, nor drink, nor speak, nor move,

Think, look, or walk, as ye were wont to do.

Even your marriage-beds shall know mutation;

The bride shall have the stock, the groom the wall;

For all old practice will I turn and change,

And call it reformation--marry will I!

_'Tis Even that we're at Odds._

The festal day approached, and still no invitation arrived for that

guest, without whom, but a little space since, no feast could have been

held in the island; while, on the other hand, such reports as reached

them on every side spoke highly of the favour which Captain Cleveland

enjoyed in the good graces of the old Udaller of Burgh-Westra. Swertha

and the Ranzelman shook their heads at these mutations, and reminded

Mordaunt, by many a half-hint and innuendo, that he had incurred this

eclipse by being so imprudently active to secure the safety of the

stranger, when he lay at the mercy of the next wave beneath the cliffs

of Sumburgh-head. "It is best to let saut water take its gate," said

Swertha; "luck never came of crossing it."

"In troth," said the Ranzelman, "they are wise folks that let wave and

withy haud their ain--luck never came of a half-drowned man, or a

half-hanged ane either. Who was't shot Will Paterson off the Noss?--the

Dutchman that he saved from sinking, I trow. To fling a drowning man a

plank or a tow, may be the part of a Christian; but I say, keep hands

aff him, if ye wad live and thrive free frae his danger."

"Ye are a wise man, Ranzelman, and a worthy," echoed Swertha, with a

groan, "and ken how and whan to help a neighbour, as well as ony man

that ever drew a net."

"In troth, I have seen length of days," answered the Ranzelman, "and I

have heard what the auld folk said to each other anent sic matters; and

nae man in Zetland shall go farther than I will in any Christian service

to a man on firm land; but if he cry 'Help!' out of the saut waves,

that's another story."

"And yet, to think of this lad Cleveland standing in our Maister

Mordaunt's light," said Swertha, "and with Magnus Troil, that thought

him the flower of the island but on Whitsunday last, and Magnus, too,

that's both held (when he's fresh, honest man) the wisest and wealthiest

of Zetland!"

"He canna win by it," said the Ranzelman, with a look of the deepest

sagacity. "There's whiles, Swertha, that the wisest of us (as I am sure

I humbly confess mysell not to be) may be little better than gulls, and

can no more win by doing deeds of folly than I can step over

Sumburgh-head. It has been my own case once or twice in my life. But we

shall see soon what ill is to come of all this, for good there cannot

come."

And Swertha answered, with the same tone of prophetic wisdom, "Na, na,

gude can never come on it, and that is ower truly said."

These doleful predictions, repeated from time to time, had some effect

upon Mordaunt. He did not indeed suppose, that the charitable action of

relieving a drowning man had subjected him, as a necessary and fatal

consequence, to the unpleasant circumstances in which he was placed; yet

he felt as if a sort of spell were drawn around him, of which he neither

understood the nature nor the extent;--that some power, in short, beyond

his own control, was acting upon his destiny, and, as it seemed, with no

friendly influence. His curiosity, as well as his anxiety, was highly

excited, and he continued determined, at all events, to make his

appearance at the approaching festival, when he was impressed with the

belief that something uncommon was necessarily to take place, which

should determine his future views and prospects in life.

As the elder Mertoun was at this time in his ordinary state of health,

it became necessary that his son should intimate to him his intended

visit to Burgh-Westra. He did so; and his father desired to know the

especial reason of his going thither at this particular time.

"It is a time of merry-making," replied the youth, "and all the country

are assembled."

"And you are doubtless impatient to add another fool to the

number.--Go--but beware how you walk in the path which you are about to

tread--a fall from the cliffs of Foulah were not more fatal."

"May I ask the reason of your caution, sir?" replied Mordaunt, breaking

through the reserve which ordinarily subsisted betwixt him and his

singular parent.

"Magnus Troil," said the elder Mertoun, "has two daughters--you are of

the age when men look upon such gauds with eyes of affection, that they

may afterwards learn to curse the day that first opened their eyes upon

heaven! I bid you beware of them; for, as sure as that death and sin

came into the world by woman, so sure are their soft words, and softer

looks, the utter destruction and ruin of all who put faith in them."

Mordaunt had sometimes observed his father's marked dislike to the

female sex, but had never before heard him give vent to it in terms so

determined and precise. He replied, that the daughters of Magnus Troil

were no more to him than any other females in the islands; "they were

even of less importance," he said, "for they had broken off their

friendship with him, without assigning any cause."

"And you go to seek the renewal of it?" answered his father. "Silly

moth, that hast once escaped the taper without singeing thy wings, are

you not contented with the safe obscurity of these wilds, but must

hasten back to the flame, which is sure at length to consume thee? But

why should I waste arguments in deterring thee from thy inevitable

fate?--Go where thy destiny calls thee."

On the succeeding day, which was the eve of the great festival, Mordaunt

set forth on his road to Burgh-Westra, pondering alternately on the

injunctions of Norna--on the ominous words of his father--on the

inauspicious auguries of Swertha and the Ranzelman of Jarlshof--and not

without experiencing that gloom with which so many concurring

circumstances of ill omen combined to oppress his mind.

"It bodes me but a cold reception at Burgh-Westra," said he; "but my

stay shall be the shorter. I will but find out whether they have been

deceived by this seafaring stranger, or whether they have acted out of

pure caprice of temper, and love of change of company. If the first be

the case, I will vindicate my character, and let Captain Cleveland look

to himself;--if the latter, why, then, good-night to Burgh-Westra and

all its inmates."

As he mentally meditated this last alternative, hurt pride, and a return

of fondness for those to whom he supposed he was bidding farewell for

ever, brought a tear into his eye, which he dashed off hastily and

indignantly, as, mending his pace, he continued on his journey.

The weather being now serene and undisturbed, Mordaunt made his way with

an ease that formed a striking contrast to the difficulties which he had

encountered when he last travelled the same route; yet there was a less

pleasing subject for comparison, within his own mind.

"My breast," he said to himself, "was then against the wind, but my

heart within was serene and happy. I would I had now the same careless

feelings, were they to be bought by battling with the severest storm

that ever blew across these lonely hills!"

With such thoughts, he arrived about noon at Harfra, the habitation, as

the reader may remember, of the ingenious Mr. Yellowley. Our traveller

had, upon the present occasion, taken care to be quite independent of

the niggardly hospitality of this mansion, which was now become infamous

on that account through the whole island, by bringing with him, in his

small knapsack, such provisions as might have sufficed for a longer

journey. In courtesy, however, or rather, perhaps, to get rid of his own

disquieting thoughts, Mordaunt did not fail to call at the mansion,

which he found in singular commotion. Triptolemus himself, invested

with a pair of large jack-boots, went clattering up and down stairs,

screaming out questions to his sister and his serving-woman Tronda, who

replied with shriller and more complicated screeches. At length, Mrs.

Baby herself made her appearance, her venerable person endued with what

was then called a joseph, an ample garment, which had once been green,

but now, betwixt stains and patches, had become like the vesture of the

patriarch whose name it bore--a garment of divers colours. A

steeple-crowned hat, the purchase of some long-past moment, in which

vanity had got the better of avarice, with a feather which had stood as

much wind and rain as if it had been part of a seamew's wing, made up

her equipment, save that in her hand she held a silver-mounted whip of

antique fashion. This attire, as well as an air of determined bustle in

the gait and appearance of Mrs. Barbara Yellowley, seemed to bespeak

that she was prepared to take a journey, and cared not, as the saying

goes, who knew that such was her determination.

She was the first that observed Mordaunt on his arrival, and she greeted

him with a degree of mingled emotion. "Be good to us!" she exclaimed,

"if here is not the canty callant that wears yon thing about his neck,

and that snapped up our goose as light as if it had been a

sandie-lavrock!" The admiration of the gold chain, which had formerly

made so deep an impression on her mind, was marked in the first part of

her speech, the recollection of the untimely fate of the smoked goose

was commemorated in the second clause. "I will lay the burden of my

life," she instantly added, "that he is ganging our gate."

"I am bound for Burgh-Westra, Mrs. Yellowley," said Mordaunt.

"And blithe will we be of your company," she added--"it's early day to

eat; but if you liked a barley scone and a drink of bland--natheless, it

is ill travelling on a full stomach, besides quelling your appetite for

the feast that is biding you this day; for all sort of prodigality there

will doubtless be."

Mordaunt produced his own stores, and, explaining that he did not love

to be burdensome to them on this second occasion, invited them to

partake of the provisions he had to offer. Poor Triptolemus, who seldom

saw half so good a dinner as his guest's luncheon, threw himself upon

the good cheer, like Sancho on the scum of Camacho's kettle, and even

the lady herself could not resist the temptation, though she gave way to

it with more moderation, and with something like a sense of shame. "She

had let the fire out," she said, "for it was a pity wasting fuel in so

cold a country, and so she had not thought of getting any thing ready,

as they were to set out so soon; and so she could not but say, that the

young gentleman's _nacket_ looked very good; and besides, she had some

curiosity to see whether the folks in that country cured their beef in

the same way they did in the north of Scotland." Under which combined

considerations, Dame Baby made a hearty experiment on the refreshments

which thus unexpectedly presented themselves.

When their extemporary repast was finished, the factor became solicitous

to take the road; and now Mordaunt discovered, that the alacrity with

which he had been received by Mistress Baby was not altogether

disinterested. Neither she nor the learned Triptolemus felt much

disposed to commit themselves to the wilds of Zetland, without the

assistance of a guide; and although they could have commanded the aid of

one of their own labouring folks, yet the cautious agriculturist

observed, that it would be losing at least one day's work; and his

sister multiplied his apprehensions by echoing back, "One day's

work?--ye may weel say twenty--for, set ane of their noses within the

smell of a kail-pot, and their lugs within the sound of a fiddle, and

whistle them back if ye can!"

Now the fortunate arrival of Mordaunt, in the very nick of time, not to

mention the good cheer which he brought with him, made him as welcome as

any one could possibly be to a threshold, which, on all ordinary

occasions, abhorred the passage of a guest; nor was Mr. Yellowley

altogether insensible of the pleasure he promised himself in detailing

his plans of improvement to his young companion, and enjoying what his

fate seldom assigned him--the company of a patient and admiring

listener.

As the factor and his sister were to prosecute their journey on

horseback, it only remained to mount their guide and companion; a thing

easily accomplished, where there are such numbers of shaggy,

long-backed, short-legged ponies, running wild upon the extensive moors,

which are the common pasturage for the cattle of every township, where

shelties, geese, swine, goats, sheep, and little Zetland cows, are

turned out promiscuously, and often in numbers which can obtain but

precarious subsistence from the niggard vegetation. There is, indeed, a

right of individual property in all these animals, which are branded or

tattooed by each owner with his own peculiar mark; but when any

passenger has occasional use for a pony, he never scruples to lay hold

of the first which he can catch, puts on a halter, and, having rode him

as far as he finds convenient, turns the animal loose to find his way

back again as he best can--a matter in which the ponies are sufficiently

sagacious.

Although this general exercise of property was one of the enormities

which in due time the factor intended to abolish, yet, like a wise man,

he scrupled not, in the meantime, to avail himself of so general a

practice, which, he condescended to allow, was particularly convenient

for those who (as chanced to be his own present case) had no ponies of

their own on which their neighbours could retaliate. Three shelties,

therefore, were procured from the hill--little shagged animals, more

resembling wild bears than any thing of the horse tribe, yet possessed

of no small degree of strength and spirit, and able to endure as much

fatigue and indifferent usage as any creatures in the world.

Two of these horses were already provided and fully accoutred for the

journey. One of them, destined to bear the fair person of Mistress Baby,

was decorated with a huge side-saddle of venerable antiquity--a mass, as

it were, of cushion and padding, from which depended, on all sides, a

housing of ancient tapestry, which, having been originally intended for

a horse of ordinary size, covered up the diminutive palfrey over which

it was spread, from the ears to the tail, and from the shoulder to the

fetlock, leaving nothing visible but its head, which looked fiercely out

from these enfoldments, like the heraldic representation of a lion

looking out of a bush. Mordaunt gallantly lifted up the fair Mistress

Yellowley, and at the expense of very slight exertion, placed her upon

the summit of her mountainous saddle. It is probable, that, on feeling

herself thus squired and attended upon, and experiencing the long

unwonted consciousness that she was attired in her best array, some

thoughts dawned upon Mistress Baby's mind, which checkered, for an

instant, those habitual ideas about thrift, that formed the daily and

all-engrossing occupation of her soul. She glanced her eye upon her

faded joseph, and on the long housings of her saddle, as she observed,

with a smile, to Mordaunt, that "travelling was a pleasant thing in fine

weather and agreeable company, if," she added, glancing a look at a

place where the embroidery was somewhat frayed and tattered, "it was not

sae wasteful to ane's horse-furniture."

Meanwhile, her brother stepped stoutly to his steed; and as he chose,

notwithstanding the serenity of the weather, to throw a long red cloak

over his other garments, his pony was even more completely enveloped in

drapery than that of his sister. It happened, moreover, to be an animal

of an high and contumacious spirit, bouncing and curvetting occasionally

under the weight of Triptolemus, with a vivacity which, notwithstanding

his Yorkshire descent, rather deranged him in the saddle; gambols which,

as the palfrey itself was not visible, except upon the strictest

inspection, had, at a little distance, an effect as if they were the

voluntary movements of the cloaked cavalier, without the assistance of

any other legs than those with which nature had provided him; and, to

any who had viewed Triptolemus under such a persuasion, the gravity, and

even distress, announced in his countenance, must have made a ridiculous

contrast to the vivacious caprioles with which he piaffed along the

moor.

Mordaunt kept up with this worthy couple, mounted, according to the

simplicity of the time and country, on the first and readiest pony which

they had been able to press into the service, with no other accoutrement

of any kind than the halter which served to guide him; while Mr.

Yellowley, seeing with pleasure his guide thus readily provided with a

steed, privately resolved, that this rude custom of helping travellers

to horses, without leave of the proprietor, should not be abated in

Zetland, until he came to possess a herd of ponies belonging in property

to himself, and exposed to suffer in the way of retaliation.

But to other uses or abuses of the country, Triptolemus Yellowley showed

himself less tolerant. Long and wearisome were the discourses he held

with Mordaunt, or (to speak much more correctly) the harangues which he

inflicted upon him, concerning the changes which his own advent in these

isles was about to occasion. Unskilled as he was in the modern arts by

which an estate may be improved to such a high degree that it shall

altogether slip through the proprietor's fingers, Triptolemus had at

least the zeal, if not the knowledge, of a whole agricultural society in

his own person; nor was he surpassed by any who has followed him, in

that noble spirit which scorns to balance profit against outlay, but

holds the glory of effecting a great change on the face of the land, to

be, like virtue, in a great degree its own reward.

No part of the wild and mountainous region over which Mordaunt guided

him, but what suggested to his active imagination some scheme of

improvement and alteration. He would make a road through yon scarce

passable glen, where at present nothing but the sure-footed creatures on

which they were mounted could tread with any safety. He would substitute

better houses for the skeoes, or sheds built of dry stones, in which the

inhabitants cured or manufactured their fish--they should brew good ale

instead of bland--they should plant forests where tree never grew, and

find mines of treasure where a Danish skilling was accounted a coin of a

most respectable denomination. All these mutations, with many others,

did the worthy factor resolve upon, speaking at the same time with the

utmost confidence of the countenance and assistance which he was to

receive from the higher classes, and especially from Magnus Troil.

"I will impart some of my ideas to the poor man," he said, "before we

are both many hours older; and you will mark how grateful he will be to

the instructor who brings him knowledge, which is better than wealth."

"I would not have you build too strongly on that," said Mordaunt, by way

of caution; "Magnus Troil's boat is kittle to trim--he likes his own

ways, and his country-ways, and you will as soon teach your sheltie to

dive like a sealgh, as bring Magnus to take a Scottish fashion in the

place of a Norse one; and yet, if he is steady to his old customs, he

may perhaps be as changeable as another in his old friendships."

"_Heus, tu inepte!_" said the scholar of Saint Andrews, "steady or

unsteady, what can it matter?--am not I here in point of trust, and in

point of power? and shall a Fowd, by which barbarous appellative this

Magnus Troil still calls himself, presume to measure judgment and weigh

reasons with me, who represent the full dignity of the Chamberlain of

the islands of Orkney and Zetland?"

"Still," said Mordaunt, "I would advise you not to advance too rashly

upon his prejudices. Magnus Troil, from the hour of his birth to this

day, never saw a greater man than himself, and it is difficult to bridle

an old horse for the first time. Besides, he has at no time in his life

been a patient listener to long explanations, so it is possible that he

may quarrel with your purposed reformation, before you can convince him

of its advantages."

"How mean you, young man?" said the factor. "Is there one who dwells in

these islands, who is so wretchedly blind as not to be sensible of their

deplorable defects? Can a man," he added, rising into enthusiasm as he

spoke, "or even a beast, look at that thing there, which they have the

impudence to call a corn-mill,[38] without trembling to think that corn

should be intrusted to such a miserable molendinary? The wretches are

obliged to have at least fifty in each parish, each trundling away upon

its paltry mill-stone, under the thatch of a roof no bigger than a

bee-skep, instead of a noble and seemly baron's mill, of which you would

hear the clack through the haill country, and that casts the meal

through the mill-eye by forpits at a time!"

"Ay, ay, brother," said his sister, "that's spoken like your wise sell.

The mair cost the mair honour--that's your word ever mair. Can it no

creep into your wise head, man, that ilka body grinds their ain nievefu'

of meal in this country, without plaguing themsells about barons' mills,

and thirls, and sucken, and the like trade? How mony a time have I

heard you bell-the-cat with auld Edie Netherstane, the miller at

Grindleburn, and wi' his very knave too, about in-town and out-town

multures--lock, gowpen, and knaveship,(_i_) and a' the lave o't; and now

naething less will serve you than to bring in the very same fashery on a

wheen puir bodies, that big ilk ane a mill for themselves, sic as it

is?"

"Dinna tell me of gowpen and knaveship!" exclaimed the indignant

agriculturist; "better pay the half of the grist to the miller, to have

the rest grund in a Christian manner, than put good grain into a bairn's

whirligig. Look at it for a moment, Baby--Bide still, ye cursed imp!"

This interjection was applied to his pony, which began to be extremely

impatient, while its rider interrupted his journey, to point out

all the weak points of the Zetland mill--"Look at it, I say--it's

just one degree better than a hand-quern--it has neither wheel nor

trindle--neither cog nor happer--Bide still, there's a canny

beast--it canna grind a bickerfu' of meal in a quarter of an hour,

and that will be mair like a mash for horse than a meltith for man's

use--Wherefore--Bide still, I say--wherefore--wherefore--The deil's in

the beast, and nae good, I think!"

As he uttered the last words, the shelty, which had pranced and

curvetted for some time with much impatience, at length got its head

betwixt its legs, and at once canted its rider into the little rivulet,

which served to drive the depreciated engine he was surveying; then

emancipating itself from the folds of the cloak, fled back towards its

own wilderness, neighing in scorn, and flinging out its heels at every

five yards.

Laughing heartily at his disaster, Mordaunt helped the old man to arise;

while his sister sarcastically congratulated him on having fallen rather

into the shallows of a Zetland rivulet than the depths of a Scottish

mill-pond. Disdaining to reply to this sarcasm, Triptolemus, so soon as

he had recovered his legs, shaken his ears, and found that the folds of

his cloak had saved him from being much wet in the scanty streamlet,

exclaimed aloud, "I will have cussers from Lanarkshire--brood mares from

Ayrshire--I will not have one of these cursed abortions left on the

islands, to break honest folk's necks--I say, Baby, I will rid the land

of them."

"Ye had better wring your ain cloak, Triptolemus," answered Baby.

Mordaunt meanwhile was employed in catching another pony, from a herd

which strayed at some distance; and, having made a halter out of twisted

rushes, he seated the dismayed agriculturist in safety upon a more

quiet, though less active steed, than that which he had at first

bestrode.

But Mr. Yellowley's fall had operated as a considerable sedative upon

his spirits, and, for the full space of five miles' travel, he said

scarce a word, leaving full course to the melancholy aspirations and

lamentations which his sister Baby bestowed on the old bridle, which the

pony had carried off in its flight, and which, she observed, after

having lasted for eighteen years come Martinmas, might now be considered

as a castaway thing. Finding she had thus the field to herself, the old

lady launched forth into a lecture upon economy, according to her own

idea of that virtue, which seemed to include a system of privations,

which, though observed with the sole purpose of saving money, might, if

undertaken upon other principles, have ranked high in the history of a

religious ascetic.

She was but little interrupted by Mordaunt, who, conscious he was now on

the eve of approaching Burgh-Westra, employed himself rather in the task

of anticipating the nature of the reception he was about to meet with

there from two beautiful young women, than with the prosing of an old

one, however wisely she might prove that small-beer was more wholesome

than strong ale, and that if her brother had bruised his ankle bone in

his tumble, cumfrey and butter was better to bring him round again, than

all the doctor's drugs in the world.

But now the dreary moorlands, over which their path had hitherto lain,

were exchanged for a more pleasant prospect, opening on a salt-water

lake, or arm of the sea, which ran up far inland, and was surrounded by

flat and fertile ground, producing crops better than the experienced eye

of Triptolemus Yellowley had as yet witnessed in Zetland. In the midst

of this Goshen stood the mansion of Burgh-Westra, screened from the

north and east by a ridge of heathy hills which lay behind it, and

commanding an interesting prospect of the lake and its parent ocean, as

well as the islands, and more distant mountains. From the mansion

itself, as well as from almost every cottage in the adjacent hamlet,

arose such a rich cloud of vapoury smoke, as showed, that the

preparations for the festival were not confined to the principal

residence of Magnus himself, but extended through the whole vicinage.

"My certie," said Mrs. Baby Yellowley, "ane wad think the haill town was

on fire! The very hill-side smells of their wastefulness, and a hungry

heart wad scarce seek better kitchen[39] to a barley scone, than just

to waft it in the reek that's rising out of yon lums."

FOOTNOTES:

[38] Note VI.--Zetland Corn-mills.

[39] What is eat by way of relish to dry bread is called _kitchen_ in

Scotland, as cheese, dried fish, or the like relishing morsels.

CHAPTER XII.

----Thou hast described

A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius,

When love begins to sicken and decay,

It useth an enforced ceremony.

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.

_Julius Cæsar._

If the smell which was wafted from the chimneys of Burgh-Westra up to

the barren hills by which the mansion was surrounded, could, as Mistress

Barbara opined, have refreshed the hungry, the noise which proceeded

from thence might have given hearing to the deaf. It was a medley of all

sounds, and all connected with jollity and kind welcome. Nor were the

sights associated with them less animating.

Troops of friends were seen in the act of arriving--their dispersed

ponies flying to the moors in every direction, to recover their own

pastures in the best way they could;--such, as we have already said,

being the usual mode of discharging the cavalry which had been levied

for a day's service. At a small but commodious harbour, connected with

the house and hamlet, those visitors were landing from their boats, who,

living in distant islands, and along the coast, had preferred making

their journey by sea. Mordaunt and his companions might see each party

pausing frequently to greet each other, and strolling on successively to

the house, whose ever open gate received them alternately in such

numbers, that it seemed the extent of the mansion, though suited to the

opulence and hospitality of the owner, was scarce, on this occasion,

sufficient for the guests.

Among the confused sounds of mirth and welcome which arose at the

entrance of each new company, Mordaunt thought he could distinguish the

loud laugh and hearty salutation of the Sire of the mansion, and began

to feel more deeply than before, the anxious doubt, whether that cordial

reception, which was distributed so freely to all others, would be on

this occasion extended to him. As they came on, they heard the voluntary

scrapings and bravura effusions of the gallant fiddlers, who impatiently

flung already from their bows those sounds with which they were to

animate the evening. The clamour of the cook's assistants, and the loud

scolding tones of the cook himself, were also to be heard--sounds of

dissonance at any other time, but which, subdued with others, and by

certain happy associations, form no disagreeable part of the full chorus

which always precedes a rural feast.

Meanwhile, the guests advanced, each full of their own thoughts.

Mordaunt's we have already noticed. Baby was wrapt up in the melancholy

grief and surprise excited by the positive conviction, that so much

victuals had been cooked at once as were necessary to feed all the

mouths which were clamouring around her--an enormity of expense, which,

though she was no way concerned in bearing it, affected her nerves, as

the beholding a massacre would touch those of the most indifferent

spectator, however well assured of his own personal safety. She

sickened, in short, at the sight of so much extravagance, like

Abyssinian Bruce, when he saw the luckless minstrels of Gondar hacked to

pieces by the order of Ras Michael. As for her brother, they being now

arrived where the rude and antique instruments of Zetland agriculture

lay scattered in the usual confusion of a Scottish barn-yard, his

thoughts were at once engrossed in the deficiencies of the one-stilted

plough--of the _twiscar_, with which they dig peats--of the sledges, on

which they transport commodities--of all and every thing, in short, in

which the usages of the islands differed from those of the mainland of

Scotland. The sight of these imperfect instruments stirred the blood of

Triptolemus Yellowley, as that of the bold warrior rises at seeing the

arms and insignia of the enemy he is about to combat; and, faithful to

his high emprise, he thought less of the hunger which his journey had

occasioned, although about to be satisfied by such a dinner as rarely

fell to his lot, than upon the task which he had undertaken, of

civilizing the manners, and improving the cultivation, of Zetland.

"_Jacta est alea_," he muttered to himself; "this very day shall prove

whether the Zetlanders are worthy of our labours, or whether their minds

are as incapable of cultivation as their peat-mosses. Yet let us be

cautious, and watch the soft time of speech. I feel, by my own

experience, that it were best to let the body, in its present state,

take the place of the mind. A mouthful of that same roast-beef, which

smells so delicately, will form an apt introduction to my grand plan for

improving the breed of stock."

By this time the visitors had reached the low but ample front of Magnus

Troil's residence, which seemed of various dates, with large and

ill-imagined additions, hastily adapted to the original building, as the

increasing estate, or enlarged family, of successive proprietors,

appeared to each to demand. Beneath a low, broad, and large porch,

supported by two huge carved posts, once the head-ornaments of vessels

which had found shipwreck upon the coast, stood Magnus himself, intent

on the hospitable toil of receiving and welcoming the numerous guests

who successively approached. His strong portly figure was well adapted

to the dress which he wore--a blue coat of an antique cut, lined with

scarlet, and laced and looped with gold down the seams and button-holes,

and along the ample cuffs. Strong and masculine features, rendered ruddy

and brown by frequent exposure to severe weather--a quantity of most

venerable silver hair, which fell in unshorn profusion from under his

gold-laced hat, and was carelessly tied with a ribbon behind, expressed

at once his advanced age, his hasty, yet well-conditioned temper, and

his robust constitution. As our travellers approached him, a shade of

displeasure seemed to cross his brow, and to interrupt for an instant

the honest and hearty burst of hilarity with which he had been in the

act of greeting all prior arrivals. When he approached Triptolemus

Yellowley, he drew himself up, so as to mix, as it were, some share of

the stately importance of the opulent Udaller with the welcome afforded

by the frank and hospitable landlord.

"You are welcome, Mr. Yellowley," was his address to the factor; "you

are welcome to Westra--the wind has blown you on a rough coast, and we

that are the natives must be kind to you as we can. This, I believe, is

your sister--Mistress Barbara Yellowley, permit me the honour of a

neighbourly salute."--And so saying, with a daring and self-devoted

courtesy, which would find no equal in our degenerate days, he actually

ventured to salute the withered cheek of the spinster, who relaxed so

much of her usual peevishness of expression, as to receive the courtesy

with something which approached to a smile. He then looked full at

Mordaunt Mertoun, and without offering his hand, said, in a tone

somewhat broken by suppressed agitation, "You too are welcome, Master

Mordaunt."

"Did I not think so," said Mordaunt, naturally offended by the coldness

of his host's manner, "I had not been here--and it is not yet too late

to turn back."

"Young man," replied Magnus, "you know better than most, that from these

doors no man can turn, without an offence to their owner. I pray you,

disturb not my guests by your ill-timed scruples. When Magnus Troil says

welcome, all are welcome who are within hearing of his voice, and it is

an indifferent loud one.--Walk on, my worthy guests, and let us see what

cheer my lasses can make you within doors."

So saying, and taking care to make his manner so general to the whole

party, that Mordaunt should not be able to appropriate any particular

portion of the welcome to himself, nor yet to complain of being excluded

from all share in it, the Udaller ushered the guests into his house,

where two large outer rooms, which, on the present occasion, served the

purpose of a modern saloon, were already crowded with guests of every

description.

The furniture was sufficiently simple, and had a character peculiar to

the situation of those stormy islands. Magnus Troil was, indeed, like

most of the higher class of Zetland proprietors, a friend to the

distressed traveller, whether by sea or land, and had repeatedly exerted

his whole authority in protecting the property and persons of

shipwrecked mariners; yet so frequent were wrecks upon that tremendous

coast, and so many unappropriated articles were constantly flung ashore,

that the interior of the house bore sufficient witness to the ravages of

the ocean, and to the exercise of those rights which the lawyers term

_Flotsome and Jetsome_. The chairs, which were arranged around the

walls, were such as are used in cabins, and many of them were of foreign

construction; the mirrors and cabinets, which were placed against the

walls for ornament or convenience, had, it was plain from their form,

been constructed for ship-board, and one or two of the latter were of

strange and unknown wood. Even the partition which separated the two

apartments, seemed constructed out of the bulkhead of some large vessel,

clumsily adapted to the service which it at present performed, by the

labour of some native joiner. To a stranger, these evident marks and

tokens of human misery might, at the first glance, form a contrast with

the scene of mirth with which they were now associated; but the

association was so familiar to the natives, that it did not for a moment

interrupt the course of their glee.

To the younger part of these revellers the presence of Mordaunt was like

a fresh charm of enjoyment. All came around him to marvel at his

absence, and all, by their repeated enquiries, plainly showed that they

conceived it had been entirely voluntary on his side. The youth felt

that this general acceptation relieved his anxiety on one painful point.

Whatever prejudice the family of Burgh-Westra might have adopted

respecting him, it must be of a private nature; and at least he had not

the additional pain of finding that he was depreciated in the eyes of

society at large; and his vindication, when he found opportunity to make

one, would not require to be extended beyond the circle of a single

family. This was consoling; though his heart still throbbed with anxiety

at the thought of meeting with his estranged, but still beloved friends.

Laying the excuse of his absence on his father's state of health, he

made his way through the various groups of friends and guests, each of

whom seemed willing to detain him as long as possible, and having, by

presenting them to one or two families of consequence, got rid of his

travelling companions, who at first stuck fast as burs, he reached at

length the door of a small apartment, which, opening from one of the

large exterior rooms we have mentioned, Minna and Brenda had been

permitted to fit up after their own taste, and to call their peculiar

property.

Mordaunt had contributed no small share of the invention and mechanical

execution employed in fitting up this favourite apartment, and in

disposing its ornaments. It was, indeed, during his last residence at

Burgh-Westra, as free to his entrance and occupation, as to its proper

mistresses. But now, so much were times altered, that he remained with

his finger on the latch, uncertain whether he should take the freedom to

draw it, until Brenda's voice pronounced the words, "Come in, then," in

the tone of one who is interrupted by an unwelcome disturber, who is to

be heard and dispatched with all the speed possible.

At this signal Mertoun entered the fanciful cabinet of the sisters,

which by the addition of many ornaments, including some articles of

considerable value, had been fitted up for the approaching festival. The

daughters of Magnus, at the moment of Mordaunt's entrance, were seated

in deep consultation with the stranger Cleveland, and with a little

slight-made old man, whose eye retained all the vivacity of spirit,

which had supported him under the thousand vicissitudes of a changeful

and precarious life, and which, accompanying him in his old age,

rendered his grey hairs less awfully reverend perhaps, but not less

beloved, than would a more grave and less imaginative expression of

countenance and character. There was even a penetrating shrewdness

mingled in the look of curiosity, with which, as he stepped for an

instant aside, he seemed to watch the meeting of Mordaunt with the two

lovely sisters.

The reception the youth met with resembled, in general character, that

which he had experienced from Magnus himself; but the maidens could not

so well cover their sense of the change of circumstances under which

they met. Both blushed, as, rising, and without extending the hand, far

less offering the cheek, as the fashion of the times permitted, and

almost exacted, they paid to Mordaunt the salutation due to an ordinary

acquaintance. But the blush of the elder was one of those transient

evidences of flitting emotion, that vanish as fast as the passing

thought which excites them. In an instant she stood before the youth

calm and cold, returning, with guarded and cautious courtesy, the usual

civilities, which, with a faltering voice, Mordaunt endeavoured to

present to her. The emotion of Brenda bore, externally at least, a

deeper and more agitating character. Her blush extended over every part

of her beautiful skin which her dress permitted to be visible, including

her slender neck, and the upper region of a finely formed bosom.

Neither did she even attempt to reply to what share of his confused

compliment Mordaunt addressed to her in particular, but regarded him

with eyes, in which displeasure was evidently mingled with feelings of

regret, and recollections of former times. Mordaunt felt, as it were,

assured upon the instant, that the regard of Minna was extinguished, but

that it might be yet possible to recover that of the milder Brenda; and

such is the waywardness of human fancy, that though he had never

hitherto made any distinct difference betwixt these two beautiful and

interesting girls, the favour of her, which seemed most absolutely

withdrawn, became at the moment the most interesting in his eyes.

He was disturbed in these hasty reflections by Cleveland, who advanced,

with military frankness, to pay his compliments to his preserver, having

only delayed long enough to permit the exchange of the ordinary

salutation betwixt the visitor and the ladies of the family. He made his

approach with so good a grace, that it was impossible for Mordaunt,

although he dated his loss of favour at Burgh-Westra from this

stranger's appearance on the coast, and domestication in the family, to

do less than return his advances as courtesy demanded, accept his thanks

with an appearance of satisfaction, and hope that his time had past

pleasantly since their last meeting.

Cleveland was about to answer, when he was anticipated by the little old

man, formerly noticed, who now thrusting himself forward, and seizing

Mordaunt's hand, kissed him on the forehead; and then at the same time

echoed and answered his question--"How passes time at Burgh-Westra? Was

it you that asked it, my prince of the cliff and of the scaur? How

should it pass, but with all the wings that beauty and joy can add to

help its flight!"

"And wit and song, too, my good old friend," said Mordaunt,

half-serious, half-jesting, as he shook the old man cordially by the

hand.--"These cannot be wanting, where Claud Halcro comes!"

"Jeer me not, Mordaunt, my good lad," replied the old man; "When your

foot is as slow as mine, your wit frozen, and your song out of tune"----

"How can you belie yourself, my good master?" answered Mordaunt, who was

not unwilling to avail himself of his old friend's peculiarities to

introduce something like conversation, break the awkwardness of this

singular meeting, and gain time for observation, ere requiring an

explanation of the change of conduct which the family seemed to have

adopted towards him. "Say not so," he continued. "Time, my old friend,

lays his hand lightly on the bard. Have I not heard you say, the poet

partakes the immortality of his song? and surely the great English poet,

you used to tell us of, was elder than yourself when he pulled the

bow-oar among all the wits of London."

This alluded to a story which was, as the French term it, Halcro's

_cheval de bataille_, and any allusion to which was certain at once to

place him in the saddle, and to push his hobby-horse into full career.

His laughing eye kindled with a sort of enthusiasm, which the ordinary

folk of this world might have called crazed, while he dashed into the

subject which he best loved to talk upon. "Alas, alas, my dear Mordaunt

Mertoun--silver is silver, and waxes not dim by use--and pewter is

pewter, and grows the longer the duller. It is not for poor Claud Halcro

to name himself in the same twelvemonth with the immortal John Dryden.

True it is, as I may have told you before, that I have seen that great

man, nay I have been in the Wits' Coffeehouse, as it was then called,

and had once a pinch out of his own very snuff-box. I must have told you

all how it happened, but here is Captain Cleveland who never heard

it.--I lodged, you must know, in Russel Street--I question not but you

know Russel Street, Covent Garden, Captain Cleveland?"

"I should know its latitude pretty well, Mr. Halcro," said the Captain,

smiling; "but I believe you mentioned the circumstance yesterday, and

besides we have the day's duty in hand--you must play us this song which

we are to study."

"It will not serve the turn now," said Halcro, "we must think of

something that will take in our dear Mordaunt, the first voice in the

island, whether for a part or solo. I will never be he will touch a

string to you, unless Mordaunt Mertoun is to help us out.--What say you,

my fairest Night?--what think you, my sweet Dawn of Day?" he added,

addressing the young women, upon whom, as we have said elsewhere, he had

long before bestowed these allegorical names.

"Mr. Mordaunt Mertoun," said Minna, "has come too late to be of our band

on this occasion--it is our misfortune, but it cannot be helped."

"How? what?" said Halcro, hastily--"too late--and you have practised

together all your lives? take my word, my bonny lasses, that old tunes

are sweetest, and old friends surest. Mr. Cleveland has a fine bass,

that must be allowed; but I would have you trust for the first effect to

one of the twenty fine airs you can sing where Mordaunt's tenor joins so

well with your own witchery--here is my lovely Day approves of the

change in her heart."

"You were never in your life more mistaken, father Halcro," said Brenda,

her cheeks again reddening, more with displeasure, it seemed, than with

shame.

"Nay, but how is this?" said the old man, pausing, and looking at them

alternately. "What have we got here?--a cloudy night and a red

morning?--that betokens rough weather.--What means all this, young

women?--where lies the offence?--In me, I fear; for the blame is always

laid upon the oldest when young folk like you go by the ears."

"The blame is not with you, father Halcro," said Minna, rising, and

taking her sister by the arm, "if indeed there be blame anywhere."

"I should fear then, Minna," said Mordaunt, endeavouring to soften his

tone into one of indifferent pleasantry, "that the new comer has brought

the offence along with him."

"When no offence is taken," replied Minna, with her usual gravity, "it

matters not by whom such may have been offered."

"Is it possible, Minna!" exclaimed Mordaunt, "and is it you who speak

thus to me?--And you too, Brenda, can you too judge so hardly of me, yet

without permitting me one moment of honest and frank explanation?"

"Those who should know best," answered Brenda, in a low but decisive

tone of voice, "have told us their pleasure, and it must be

done.--Sister, I think we have staid too long here, and shall be wanted

elsewhere--Mr. Mertoun will excuse us on so busy a day."

The sisters linked their arms together. Halcro in vain endeavoured to

stop them, making, at the same time, a theatrical gesture, and

exclaiming,

"Now, Day and Night, but this is wondrous strange!"

Then turned to Mordaunt Mertoun, and added--"The girls are possessed

with the spirit of mutability, showing, as our master Spenser well

saith, that

'Among all living creatures, more or lesse,

Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.'

Captain Cleveland," he continued, "know you any thing that has happened

to put these two juvenile Graces out of tune?"

"He will lose his reckoning," answered Cleveland, "that spends time in

enquiring why the wind shifts a point, or why a woman changes her mind.

Were I Mr. Mordaunt, I would not ask the proud wenches another question

on such a subject."

"It is a friendly advice, Captain Cleveland," replied Mordaunt, "and I

will not hold it the less so that it has been given unasked. Allow me to

enquire if you are yourself as indifferent to the opinion of your female

friends, as it seems you would have me to be?"

"Who, I?" said the Captain, with an air of frank indifference, "I never

thought twice upon such a subject. I never saw a woman worth thinking

twice about after the anchor was a-peak--on shore it is another thing;

and I will laugh, sing, dance, and make love, if they like it, with

twenty girls, were they but half so pretty as those who have left us,

and make them heartily welcome to change their course in the sound of a

boatswain's whistle. It will be odds but I wear as fast as they can."

A patient is seldom pleased with that sort of consolation which is

founded on holding light the malady of which he complains; and Mordaunt

felt disposed to be offended with Captain Cleveland, both for taking

notice of his embarrassment, and intruding upon him his own opinion; and

he replied, therefore, somewhat sharply, "that Captain Cleveland's

sentiments were only suited to such as had the art to become universal

favourites wherever chance happened to throw them, and who could not

lose in one place more than their merit was sure to gain for them in

another."

This was spoken ironically; but there was, to confess the truth, a

superior knowledge of the world, and a consciousness of external merit

at least, about the man, which rendered his interference doubly

disagreeable. As Sir Lucius O'Trigger says, there was an air of success

about Captain Cleveland which was mighty provoking. Young, handsome, and

well assured, his air of nautical bluntness sat naturally and easily

upon him, and was perhaps particularly well fitted to the simple manners

of the remote country in which he found himself; and where, even in the

best families, a greater degree of refinement might have rendered his

conversation rather less acceptable. He was contented, in the present

instance, to smile good-humouredly at the obvious discontent of Mordaunt

Mertoun, and replied, "You are angry with me, my good friend, but you

cannot make me angry with you. The fair hands of all the pretty women I

ever saw in my life would never have fished me up out of the Roost of

Sumburgh. So, pray, do not quarrel with me; for here is Mr. Halcro

witness that I have struck both jack and topsail, and should you fire a

broadside into me, cannot return a single shot."

"Ay, ay," said Halcro, "you must be friends with Captain Cleveland,

Mordaunt. Never quarrel with your friend, because a woman is whimsical.

Why, man, if they kept one humour, how the devil could we make so many

songs on them as we do? Even old Dryden himself, glorious old John,

could have said little about a girl that was always of one mind--as well

write verses upon a mill-pond. It is your tides and your roosts, and

your currents and eddies, that come and go, and ebb and flow, (by

Heaven! I run into rhyme when I so much as think upon them,) that smile

one day, rage the next, flatter and devour, delight and ruin us, and so

forth--it is these that give the real soul of poetry. Did you never hear

my Adieu to the Lass of Northmaven--that was poor Bet Stimbister, whom I

call Mary for the sound's sake, as I call myself Hacon after my great

ancestor Hacon Goldemund, or Haco with the golden mouth, who came to the

island with Harold Harfager, and was his chief Scald?--Well, but where

was I?--O ay--poor Bet Stimbister, she (and partly some debt) was the

cause of my leaving the isles of Hialtland, (better so called than

Shetland, or Zetland even,) and taking to the broad world. I have had a

tramp of it since that time--I have battled my way through the world,

Captain, as a man of mold may, that has a light head, a light purse, and

a heart as light as them both--fought my way, and paid my way--that is,

either with money or wit--have seen kings changed and deposed as you

would turn a tenant out of a scathold--knew all the wits of the age, and

especially the glorious John Dryden--what man in the islands can say as

much, barring lying?--I had a pinch out of his own snuff-box--I will

tell you how I came by such promotion."

"But the song, Mr. Halcro," said Captain Cleveland.

"The song?" answered Halcro, seizing the Captain by the button,--for he

was too much accustomed to have his audience escape from him during

recitation, not to put in practice all the usual means of

prevention,--"The song? Why I gave a copy of it, with fifteen others, to

the immortal John. You shall hear it--you shall hear them all, if you

will but stand still a moment; and you too, my dear boy, Mordaunt

Mertoun, I have scarce heard a word from your mouth these six months,

and now you are running away from me." So saying, he secured him with

his other hand.

"Nay, now he has got us both in tow," said the seaman, "there is nothing

for it but hearing him out, though he spins as tough a yarn as ever an

old man-of-war's-man twisted on the watch at midnight."

"Nay, now, be silent, be silent, and let one of us speak at once," said

the poet, imperatively; while Cleveland and Mordaunt, looking at each

other with a ludicrous expression of resignation to their fate, waited

in submission for the well-known and inevitable tale. "I will tell you

all about it," continued Halcro. "I was knocked about the world like

other young fellows, doing this, that, and t'other for a livelihood;

for, thank God, I could turn my hand to any thing--but loving still the

Muses as much as if the ungrateful jades had found me, like so many

blockheads, in my own coach and six. However, I held out till my cousin,

old Lawrence Linkletter, died, and left me the bit of an island yonder;

although, by the way, Cultmalindie was as near to him as I was; but

Lawrence loved wit, though he had little of his own. Well, he left me

the wee bit island--it is as barren as Parnassus itself. What then?--I

have a penny to spend, a penny to keep my purse, a penny to give to the

poor--ay, and a bed and a bottle for a friend, as you shall know, boys,

if you will go back with me when this merriment is over.--But where was

I in my story?"

"Near port, I hope," answered Cleveland; but Halcro was too determined a

narrator to be interrupted by the broadest hint.

"O ay," he resumed, with the self-satisfied air of one who has recovered

the thread of a story, "I was in my old lodgings in Russel Street, with

old Timothy Thimblethwaite, the Master Fashioner, then the best-known

man about town. He made for all the wits, and for the dull boobies of

fortune besides, and made the one pay for the other. He never denied a

wit credit save in jest, or for the sake of getting a repartee; and he

was in correspondence with all that was worth knowing about town. He had

letters from Crowne, and Tate, and Prior, and Tom Brown, and all the

famous fellows of the time, with such pellets of wit, that there was no

reading them without laughing ready to die, and all ending with craving

a further term for payment."

"I should have thought the tailor would have found that jest rather

serious," said Mordaunt.

"Not a bit--not a bit," replied his eulogist, "Tim Thimblethwaite (he

was a Cumberland-man by birth) had the soul of a prince--ay, and died

with the fortune of one; for woe betide the custard-gorged alderman that

came under Tim's goose, after he had got one of those letters--egad, he

was sure to pay the kain! Why, Thimblethwaite was thought to be the

original of little Tom Bibber, in glorious John's comedy of the Wild

Gallant; and I know that he has trusted, ay, and lent John money to boot

out of his own pocket, at a time when all his fine court friends blew

cold enough. He trusted me too, and I have been two months on the score

at a time for my upper room. To be sure, I was obliging in his way--not

that I exactly could shape or sew, nor would that have been decorous for

a gentleman of good descent; but I--eh, eh--I drew bills--summed up the

books"----

"Carried home the clothes of the wits and aldermen, and got lodging for

your labour?" interrupted Cleveland.

"No, no--damn it, no," replied Halcro; "no such thing--you put me out in

my story--where was I?"

"Nay, the devil help you to the latitude," said the Captain, extricating

his button from the gripe of the unmerciful bard's finger and thumb,

"for I have no time to take an observation." So saying, he bolted from

the room.

"A silly, ill-bred, conceited fool," said Halcro, looking after him;

"with as little manners as wit in his empty coxcomb. I wonder what

Magnus and these silly wenches can see in him--he tells such damnable

long-winded stories, too, about his adventures and sea-fights--every

second word a lie, I doubt not. Mordaunt, my dear boy, take example by

that man--that is, take warning by him--never tell long stories about

yourself. You are sometimes given to talk too much about your own

exploits on crags and skerries, and the like, which only breaks

conversation, and prevents other folk from being heard. Now I see you

are impatient to hear out what I was saying--Stop, whereabouts was I?"

"I fear we must put it off, Mr. Halcro, until after dinner," said

Mordaunt, who also meditated his escape, though desirous of effecting it

with more delicacy towards his old acquaintance than Captain Cleveland

had thought it necessary to use.

"Nay, my dear boy," said Halcro, seeing himself about to be utterly

deserted, "do not you leave me too--never take so bad an example as to

set light by old acquaintance, Mordaunt. I have wandered many a weary

step in my day; but they were always lightened when I could get hold of

the arm of an old friend like yourself."

So saying, he quitted the youth's coat, and sliding his hand gently

under his arm, grappled him more effectually; to which Mordaunt

submitted, a little moved by the poet's observation upon the unkindness

of old acquaintances, under which he himself was an immediate sufferer.

But when Halcro renewed his formidable question, "Whereabouts was I?"

Mordaunt, preferring his poetry to his prose, reminded him of the song

which he said he had written upon his first leaving Zetland,--a song to

which, indeed, the enquirer was no stranger, but which, as it must be

new to the reader, we shall here insert as a favourable specimen of the

poetical powers of this tuneful descendant of Haco the Golden-mouthed;

for, in the opinion of many tolerable judges, he held a respectable rank

among the inditers of madrigals of the period, and was as well qualified

to give immortality to his Nancies of the hills or dales, as many a

gentle sonnetteer of wit and pleasure about town. He was something of a

musician also, and on the present occasion seized upon a sort of lute,

and, quitting his victim, prepared the instrument for an accompaniment,

speaking all the while that he might lose no time.

"I learned the lute," he said, "from the same man who taught honest

Shadwell--plump Tom, as they used to call him--somewhat roughly treated

by the glorious John, you remember--Mordaunt, you remember--

'Methinks I see the new Arion sail,

The lute still trembling underneath thy nail;

At thy well sharpen'd thumb, from shore to shore,

The trebles squeak for fear, the basses roar.'

Come, I am indifferently in tune now--what was it to be?--ay, I

remember--nay, The Lass of Northmaven is the ditty--poor Bet Stimbister!

I have called her Mary in the verses. Betsy does well for an English

song; but Mary is more natural here." So saying, after a short prelude,

he sung, with a tolerable voice and some taste, the following verses:

MARY.

Farewell to Northmaven,

Grey Hillswicke, farewell!

To the calms of thy haven,

The storms on thy fell--

To each breeze that can vary

The mood of thy main,

And to thee, bonny Mary!

We meet not again.

Farewell the wild ferry,

Which Hacon could brave,

When the peaks of the Skerry

Were white in the wave.

There's a maid may look over

These wild waves in vain--

For the skiff of her lover--

He comes not again.

The vows thou hast broke,

On the wild currents fling them;

On the quicksand and rock

Let the mermaidens sing them.

New sweetness they'll give her

Bewildering strain;

But there's one who will never

Believe them again.

O were there an island,

Though ever so wild,

Where woman could smile, and

No man be beguiled--

Too tempting a snare

To poor mortals were given,

And the hope would fix there,

That should anchor on heaven!

"I see you are softened, my young friend," said Halcro, when he had

finished his song; "so are most who hear that same ditty. Words and

music both mine own; and, without saying much of the wit of it, there is

a sort of eh--eh--simplicity and truth about it, which gets its way to

most folk's heart. Even your father cannot resist it--and he has a heart

as impenetrable to poetry and song as Apollo himself could draw an arrow

against. But then he has had some ill luck in his time with the

women-folk, as is plain from his owing them such a grudge--Ay, ay, there

the charm lies--none of us but has felt the same sore in our day. But

come, my dear boy, they are mustering in the hall, men and women

both--plagues as they are, we should get on ill without them--but

before we go, only mark the last turn--

'And the hope would fix there,'--

that is, in the supposed island--a place which neither was nor will be--

'That should anchor on heaven.'

Now you see, my good young man, there are here none of your heathenish

rants, which Rochester, Etheridge, and these wild fellows, used to

string together. A parson might sing the song, and his clerk bear the

burden--but there is the confounded bell--we must go now--but never

mind--we'll get into a quiet corner at night, and I'll tell you all

about it."

CHAPTER XIII.

Full in the midst the polish'd table shines,

And the bright goblets, rich with generous wines;

Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares,

Portions the food, and each the portion shares;

Nor till the rage of thirst and hunger ceased,

To the high host approach'd the sagacious guest.

_Odyssey._

The hospitable profusion of Magnus Troil's board, the number of guests

who feasted in the hall, the much greater number of retainers,

attendants, humble friends, and domestics of every possible description,

who revelled without, with the multitude of the still poorer, and less

honoured assistants, who came from every hamlet or township within

twenty miles round, to share the bounty of the munificent Udaller, were

such as altogether astonished Triptolemus Yellowley, and made him

internally doubt whether it would be prudent in him at this time, and

amid the full glow of his hospitality, to propose to the host who

presided over such a splendid banquet, a radical change in the whole

customs and usages of his country.

True, the sagacious Triptolemus felt conscious that he possessed in his

own person wisdom far superior to that of all the assembled feasters, to

say nothing of the landlord, against whose prudence the very extent of

his hospitality formed, in Yellowley's opinion, sufficient evidence. But

yet the Amphitryon with whom one dines, holds, for the time at least,

an influence over the minds of his most distinguished guests; and if the

dinner be in good style and the wines of the right quality, it is

humbling to see that neither art nor wisdom, scarce external rank

itself, can assume their natural and wonted superiority over the

distributor of these good things, until coffee has been brought in.

Triptolemus felt the full weight of this temporary superiority, yet he

was desirous to do something that might vindicate the vaunts he had made

to his sister and his fellow-traveller, and he stole a look at them from

time to time, to mark whether he was not sinking in their esteem from

postponing his promised lecture on the enormities of Zetland.

But Mrs. Barbara was busily engaged in noting and registering the waste

incurred in such an entertainment as she had probably never before

looked upon, and in admiring the host's indifference to, and the guests'

absolute negligence of, those rules of civility in which her youth had

been brought up. The feasters desired to be helped from a dish which was

unbroken, and might have figured at supper, with as much freedom as if

it had undergone the ravages of half-a-dozen guests; and no one seemed

to care--the landlord himself least of all--whether those dishes only

were consumed, which, from their nature, were incapable of

re-appearance, or whether the assault was extended to the substantial

rounds of beef, pasties, and so forth, which, by the rules of good

housewifery, were destined to stand two attacks, and which, therefore,

according to Mrs. Barbara's ideas of politeness, ought not to have been

annihilated by the guests upon the first onset, but spared, like Outis

in the cave of Polyphemus, to be devoured the last. Lost in the

meditations to which these breaches of convivial discipline gave rise,

and in the contemplation of an ideal larder of cold meat which she could

have saved out of the wreck of roast, boiled, and baked, sufficient to

have supplied her cupboard for at least a twelvemonth, Mrs. Barbara

cared very little whether or not her brother supported in its extent the

character which he had calculated upon assuming.

Mordaunt Mertoun also was conversant with far other thoughts, than those

which regarded the proposed reformer of Zetland enormities. His seat was

betwixt two blithe maidens of Thule, who, not taking scorn that he had

upon other occasions given preference to the daughters of the Udaller,

were glad of the chance which assigned to them the attentions of so

distinguished a gallant, who, as being their squire at the feast, might

in all probability become their partner in the subsequent dance. But,

whilst rendering to his fair neighbours all the usual attentions which

society required, Mordaunt kept up a covert, but accurate and close

observation, upon his estranged friends, Minna and Brenda. The Udaller

himself had a share of his attention; but in him he could remark

nothing, except the usual tone of hearty and somewhat boisterous

hospitality, with which he was accustomed to animate the banquet upon

all such occasions of general festivity. But in the differing mien of

the two maidens there was much more room for painful remark.

Captain Cleveland sat betwixt the sisters, was sedulous in his

attentions to both, and Mordaunt was so placed, that he could observe

all, and hear a great deal, of what passed between them. But Cleveland's

peculiar regard seemed devoted to the elder sister. Of this the younger

was perhaps conscious, for more than once her eye glanced towards

Mordaunt, and, as he thought, with something in it which resembled

regret for the interruption of their intercourse, and a sad remembrance

of former and more friendly times; while Minna was exclusively engrossed

by the attentions of her neighbour; and that it should be so, filled

Mordaunt with surprise and resentment.

Minna, the serious, the prudent, the reserved, whose countenance and

manners indicated so much elevation of character--Minna, the lover of

solitude, and of those paths of knowledge in which men walk best without

company--the enemy of light mirth, the friend of musing melancholy, and

the frequenter of fountain-heads and pathless glens--she whose character

seemed, in short, the very reverse of that which might be captivated by

the bold, coarse, and daring gallantry of such a man as this Captain

Cleveland, gave, nevertheless, her eye and ear to him, as he sat beside

her at table, with an interest and a graciousness of attention, which,

to Mordaunt, who well knew how to judge of her feelings by her manner,

intimated a degree of the highest favour. He observed this, and his

heart rose against the favourite by whom he had been thus superseded, as

well as against Minna's indiscreet departure from her own character.

"What is there about the man," he said within himself, "more than the

bold and daring assumption of importance which is derived from success

in petty enterprises, and the exercise of petty despotism over a ship's

crew?--His very language is more professional than is used by the

superior officers of the British navy; and the wit which has excited so

many smiles, seems to me such as Minna would not formerly have endured

for an instant. Even Brenda seems less taken with his gallantry than

Minna, whom it should have suited so little."

Mordaunt was doubly mistaken in these his angry speculations. In the

first place, with an eye which was, in some respects, that of a rival,

he criticised far too severely the manners and behaviour of Captain

Cleveland. They were unpolished, certainly; which was of the less

consequence in a country inhabited by so plain and simple a race as the

ancient Zetlanders. On the other hand, there was an open, naval

frankness in Cleveland's bearing--much natural shrewdness--some

appropriate humour--an undoubting confidence in himself--and that

enterprising hardihood of disposition, which, without any other

recommendable quality, very often leads to success with the fair sex.

But Mordaunt was farther mistaken, in supposing that Cleveland was

likely to be disagreeable to Minna Troil, on account of the opposition

of their characters in so many material particulars. Had his knowledge

of the world been a little more extensive, he might have observed, that

as unions are often formed betwixt couples differing in complexion and

stature, they take place still more frequently betwixt persons totally

differing in feelings, in taste, in pursuits, and in understanding; and

it would not be saying, perhaps, too much, to aver, that two-thirds of

the marriages around us have been contracted betwixt persons, who,

judging _a priori_, we should have thought had scarce any charms for

each other.

A moral and primary cause might be easily assigned for these anomalies,

in the wise dispensations of Providence, that the general balance of

wit, wisdom, and amiable qualities of all kinds, should be kept up

through society at large. For, what a world were it, if the wise were to

intermarry only with the wise, the learned with the learned, the amiable

with the amiable, nay, even the handsome with the handsome? and, is it

not evident, that the degraded castes of the foolish, the ignorant, the

brutal, and the deformed, (comprehending, by the way, far the greater

portion of mankind,) must, when condemned to exclusive intercourse with

each other, become gradually as much brutalized in person and

disposition as so many ourang-outangs? When, therefore, we see the

"gentle joined to the rude," we may lament the fate of the suffering

individual, but we must not the less admire the mysterious disposition

of that wise Providence which thus balances the moral good and evil of

life;--which secures for a family, unhappy in the dispositions of one

parent, a share of better and sweeter blood, transmitted from the other,

and preserves to the offspring the affectionate care and protection of

at least one of those from whom it is naturally due. Without the

frequent occurrence of such alliances and unions--mis-sorted as they

seem at first sight--the world could not be that for which Eternal

Wisdom has designed it--a place of mixed good and evil--a place of trial

at once, and of suffering, where even the worst ills are checkered with

something that renders them tolerable to humble and patient minds, and

where the best blessings carry with them a necessary alloy of

embittering depreciation.

When, indeed, we look a little closer on the causes of those unexpected

and ill-suited attachments, we have occasion to acknowledge, that the

means by which they are produced do not infer that complete departure

from, or inconsistency with, the character of the parties, which we

might expect when the result alone is contemplated. The wise purposes

which Providence appears to have had in view, by permitting such

intermixture of dispositions, tempers, and understandings, in the

married state, are not accomplished by any mysterious impulse by which,

in contradiction to the ordinary laws of nature, men or women are urged

to an union with those whom the world see to be unsuitable to them. The

freedom of will is permitted to us in the occurrences of ordinary life,

as in our moral conduct; and in the former as well as the latter case,

is often the means of misguiding those who possess it. Thus it usually

happens, more especially to the enthusiastic and imaginative, that,

having formed a picture of admiration in their own mind, they too often

deceive themselves by some faint resemblance in some existing being,

whom their fancy, as speedily as gratuitously, invests with all the

attributes necessary to complete the _beau ideal_ of mental perfection.

No one, perhaps, even in the happiest marriage, with an object really

beloved, ever discovered by experience all the qualities he expected to

possess; but in far too many cases, he finds he has practised a much

higher degree of mental deception, and has erected his airy castle of

felicity upon some rainbow, which owed its very existence only to the

peculiar state of the atmosphere.

Thus, Mordaunt, if better acquainted with life, and with the course of

human things, would have been little surprised that such a man as

Cleveland, handsome, bold, and animated,--a man who had obviously lived

in danger, and who spoke of it as sport, should have been invested, by a

girl of Minna's fanciful disposition, with an extensive share of those

qualities, which, in her active imagination, were held to fill up the

accomplishments of a heroic character. The plain bluntness of his

manner, if remote from courtesy, appeared at least as widely different

from deceit; and, unfashioned as he seemed by forms, he had enough both

of natural sense, and natural good-breeding, to support the delusion he

had created, at least as far as externals were concerned. It is scarce

necessary to add, that these observations apply exclusively to what are

called love-matches; for when either party fix their attachment upon the

substantial comforts of a rental, or a jointure, they cannot be

disappointed in the acquisition, although they may be cruelly so in

their over-estimation of the happiness it was to afford, or in having

too slightly anticipated the disadvantages with which it was to be

attended.

Having a certain partiality for the dark Beauty whom we have described,

we have willingly dedicated this digression, in order to account for a

line of conduct which we allow to seem absolutely unnatural in such a

narrative as the present, though the most common event in ordinary life;

namely, in Minna's appearing to have over-estimated the taste, talent,

and ability of a handsome young man, who was dedicating to her his whole

time and attention, and whose homage rendered her the envy of almost all

the other young women of that numerous party. Perhaps, if our fair

readers will take the trouble to consult their own bosoms, they will be

disposed to allow, that the distinguished good taste exhibited by any

individual, who, when his attentions would be agreeable to a whole

circle of rivals, selects _one_ as their individual object, entitles

him, on the footing of reciprocity, if on no other, to a large share of

that individual's favourable, and even partial, esteem. At any rate, if

the character shall, after all, be deemed inconsistent and unnatural, it

concerns not us, who record the facts as we find them, and pretend no

privilege for bringing closer to nature those incidents which may seem

to diverge from it; or for reducing to consistence that most

inconsistent of all created things--the heart of a beautiful and admired

female.

Necessity, which teaches all the liberal arts, can render us also adepts

in dissimulation; and Mordaunt, though a novice, failed not to profit in

her school. It was manifest, that, in order to observe the demeanour of

those on whom his attention was fixed, he must needs put constraint on

his own, and appear, at least, so much engaged with the damsels betwixt

whom he sat, that Minna and Brenda should suppose him indifferent to

what was passing around him. The ready cheerfulness of Maddie and Clara

Groatsettars, who were esteemed considerable fortunes in the island, and

were at this moment too happy in feeling themselves seated somewhat

beyond the sphere of vigilance influenced by their aunt, the good old

Lady Glowrowrum, met and requited the attempts which Mordaunt made to be

lively and entertaining; and they were soon engaged in a gay

conversation, to which, as usual on such occasions, the gentleman

contributed wit, or what passes for such, and the ladies their prompt

laughter and liberal applause. But, amidst this seeming mirth, Mordaunt

failed not, from time to time, as covertly as he might, to observe the

conduct of the two daughters of Magnus; and still it appeared as if the

elder, wrapt up in the conversation of Cleveland, did not cast away a

thought on the rest of the company; and as if Brenda, more openly as she

conceived his attention withdrawn from her, looked with an expression

both anxious and melancholy towards the group of which he himself formed

a part. He was much moved by the diffidence, as well as the trouble,

which her looks seemed to convey, and tacitly formed the resolution of

seeking a more full explanation with her in the course of the evening.

Norna, he remembered, had stated that these two amiable young women were

in danger, the nature of which she left unexplained, but which he

suspected to arise out of their mistaking the character of this daring

and all-engrossing stranger; and he secretly resolved, that, if

possible, he would be the means of detecting Cleveland, and of saving

his early friends.

As he revolved these thoughts, his attention to the Miss Groatsettars

gradually diminished, and perhaps he might altogether have forgotten the

necessity of his appearing an uninterested spectator of what was

passing, had not the signal been given for the ladies retiring from

table. Minna, with a native grace, and somewhat of stateliness in her

manner, bent her head to the company in general, with a kinder and more

particular expression as her eye reached Cleveland. Brenda, with the

blush which attended her slightest personal exertion when exposed to the

eyes of others, hurried through the same departing salutation with an

embarrassment which almost amounted to awkwardness, but which her youth

and timidity rendered at once natural and interesting. Again Mordaunt

thought that her eye distinguished him amidst the numerous company. For

the first time he ventured to encounter and to return the glance; and

the consciousness that he had done so doubled the glow of Brenda's

countenance, while something resembling displeasure was blended with her

emotion.

When the ladies had retired, the men betook themselves to the deep and

serious drinking, which, according to the fashion of the times, preceded

the evening exercise of the dance. Old Magnus himself, by precept and

example, exhorted them "to make the best use of their time, since the

ladies would soon summon them to shake their feet." At the same time

giving the signal to a grey-headed domestic, who stood behind him in the

dress of a Dantzic skipper, and who added to many other occupations that

of butler, "Eric Scambester," he said, "has the good ship the Jolly

Mariner of Canton, got her cargo on board?"

"Chokeful loaded," answered the Ganymede of Burgh-Westra, "with good

Nantz, Jamaica sugar, Portugal lemons, not to mention nutmeg and toast,

and water taken in from the Shellicoat spring."

Loud and long laughed the guests at this stated and regular jest betwixt

the Udaller and his butler, which always served as a preface to the

introduction of a punch-bowl of enormous size, the gift of the captain

of one of the Honourable East India Company's vessels, which, bound from

China homeward, had been driven north-about by stress of weather into

Lerwick-bay, and had there contrived to get rid of part of the cargo,

without very scrupulously reckoning for the King's duties.

Magnus Troil, having been a large customer, besides otherwise obliging

Captain Coolie, had been remunerated, on the departure of the ship, with

this splendid vehicle of conviviality, at the very sight of which, as

old Eric Scambester bent under its weight, a murmur of applause ran

through the company. The good old toasts dedicated to the prosperity of

Zetland, were then honoured with flowing bumpers. "Death to the head

that never wears hair!" was a sentiment quaffed to the success of the

fishing, as proposed by the sonorous voice of the Udaller. Claud Halcro

proposed with general applause, "The health of their worthy landmaster,

the sweet sister meat-mistresses; health to man, death to fish, and

growth to the produce of the ground." The same recurring sentiment was

proposed more concisely by a whiteheaded compeer of Magnus Troil, in the

words, "God open the mouth of the grey fish, and keep his hand about the

corn!"[40]

Full opportunity was afforded to all to honour these interesting toasts.

Those nearest the capacious Mediterranean of punch, were accommodated by

the Udaller with their portions, dispensed in huge rummer glasses by his

own hospitable hand, whilst they who sat at a greater distance

replenished their cups by means of a rich silver flagon, facetiously

called the Pinnace; which, filled occasionally at the bowl, served to

dispense its liquid treasures to the more remote parts of the table, and

occasioned many right merry jests on its frequent voyages. The commerce

of the Zetlanders with foreign vessels, and homeward-bound West

Indiamen, had early served to introduce among them the general use of

the generous beverage, with which the Jolly Mariner of Canton was

loaded; nor was there a man in the archipelago of Thule more skilled in

combining its rich ingredients, than old Eric Scambester, who indeed was

known far and wide through the isles by the name of the Punch-maker,

after the fashion of the ancient Norwegians, who conferred on Rollo the

Walker, and other heroes of their strain, epithets expressive of the

feats of strength or dexterity in which they excelled all other men.

The good liquor was not slow in performing its office of exhilaration,

and, as the revel advanced, some ancient Norse drinking-songs were sung

with great effect by the guests, tending to show, that if, from want of

exercise, the martial virtues of their ancestors had decayed among the

Zetlanders, they could still actively and intensely enjoy so much of the

pleasures of Valhalla as consisted in quaffing the oceans of mead and

brown ale, which were promised by Odin to those who should share his

Scandinavian paradise. At length, excited by the cup and song, the

diffident grew bold, and the modest loquacious--all became desirous of

talking, and none were willing to listen--each man mounted his own

special hobby-horse, and began eagerly to call on his neighbours to

witness his agility. Amongst others, the little bard, who had now got

next to our friend Mordaunt Mertoun, evinced a positive determination to

commence and conclude, in all its longitude and latitude, the story of

his introduction to glorious John Dryden; and Triptolemus Yellowley, as

his spirits arose, shaking off a feeling of involuntary awe, with which

he was impressed by the opulence indicated in all he saw around him, as

well as by the respect paid to Magnus Troil by the assembled guests,

began to broach, to the astonished and somewhat offended Udaller, some

of those projects for ameliorating the islands, which he had boasted of

to his fellow-travellers upon their journey of the morning.

But the innovations which he suggested, and the reception which they met

with at the hand of Magnus Troil, must be told in the next Chapter.

FOOTNOTES:

[40] See Hibbert's Description of the Zetland Islands, p. 470.

CHAPTER XIV.

We'll keep our customs--what is law itself,

But old establish'd custom? What religion,

(I mean, with one-half of the men that use it,)

Save the good use and wont that carries them

To worship how and where their fathers worshipp'd?

All things resolve in custom--we'll keep ours.

_Old Play._

We left the company of Magnus Troil engaged in high wassail and revelry.

Mordaunt, who, like his father, shunned the festive cup, did not partake

in the cheerfulness which the ship diffused among the guests as they

unloaded it, and the pinnace, as it circumnavigated the table. But, in

low spirits as he seemed, he was the more meet prey for the

story-telling Halcro, who had fixed upon him, as in a favourable state

to play the part of listener, with something of the same instinct that

directs the hooded crow to the sick sheep among the flock, which will

most patiently suffer itself to be made a prey of. Joyfully did the poet

avail himself of the advantages afforded by Mordaunt's absence of mind,

and unwillingness to exert himself in measures of active defence. With

the unfailing dexterity peculiar to prosers, he contrived to dribble out

his tale to double its usual length, by the exercise of the privilege of

unlimited digressions; so that the story, like a horse on the _grand

pas_, seemed to be advancing with rapidity, while, in reality, it scarce

was progressive at the rate of a yard in the quarter of an hour. At

length, however, he had discussed, in all its various bearings and

relations, the history of his friendly landlord, the master fashioner in

Russel Street, including a short sketch of five of his relations, and

anecdotes of three of his principal rivals, together with some general

observations upon the dress and fashion of the period; and having

marched thus far through the environs and outworks of his story, he

arrived at the body of the place, for so the Wits' Coffeehouse might be

termed. He paused on the threshold, however, to explain the nature of

his landlord's right occasionally to intrude himself into this

well-known temple of the Muses.

"It consisted," said Halcro, "in the two principal points, of bearing

and forbearing; for my friend Thimblethwaite was a person of wit

himself, and never quarrelled with any jest which the wags who

frequented that house were flinging about, like squibs and crackers on a

rejoicing night; and then, though some of the wits--ay, and I daresay

the greater number, might have had some dealings with him in the way of

trade, he never was the person to put any man of genius in unpleasant

remembrance of such trifles. And though, my dear young Master Mordaunt,

you may think this is but ordinary civility, because in this country it

happens seldom that there is either much borrowing or lending, and

because, praised be Heaven, there are neither bailiffs nor

sheriff-officers to take a poor fellow by the neck, and because there

are no prisons to put him into when they have done so, yet, let me tell

you, that such a lamblike forbearance as that of my poor, dear, deceased

landlord, Thimblethwaite, is truly uncommon within the London bills of

mortality. I could tell you of such things that have happened even to

myself, as well as others, with these cursed London tradesmen, as would

make your hair stand on end.--But what the devil has put old Magnus into

such note? he shouts as if he were trying his voice against a north-west

gale of wind."

Loud indeed was the roar of the old Udaller, as, worn out of patience by

the schemes of improvement which the factor was now undauntedly pressing

upon his consideration, he answered him, (to use an Ossianic phrase,)

like a wave upon a rock,

"Trees, Sir Factor--talk not to me of trees! I care not though there

never be one on the island, tall enough to hang a coxcomb upon. We will

have no trees but those that rise in our havens--the good trees that

have yards for boughs, and standing-rigging for leaves."

"But touching the draining of the lake of Braebaster, whereof I spoke to

you, Master Magnus Troil," said the persevering agriculturist, "whilk I

opine would be of so much consequence, there are two ways--down the

Linklater glen, or by the Scalmester burn. Now, having taken the level

of both"----

"There is a third way, Master Yellowley," answered the landlord.

"I profess I can see none," replied Triptolemus, with as much good faith

as a joker could desire in the subject of his wit, "in respect that the

hill called Braebaster on the south, and ane high bank on the north, of

whilk I cannot carry the name rightly in my head"----

"Do not tell us of hills and banks, Master Yellowley--there is a third

way of draining the loch, and it is the only way that shall be tried in

my day. You say my Lord Chamberlain and I are the joint proprietors--so

be it--let each of us start an equal proportion of brandy, lime-juice,

and sugar, into the loch--a ship's cargo or two will do the job--let us

assemble all the jolly Udallers of the country, and in twenty-four hours

you shall see dry ground where the loch of Braebaster now is."

A loud laugh of applause, which for a time actually silenced

Triptolemus, attended a jest so very well suited to time and place--a

jolly toast was given--a merry song was sung--the ship unloaded her

sweets--the pinnace made its genial rounds--the duet betwixt Magnus and

Triptolemus, which had attracted the attention of the whole company from

its superior vehemence, now once more sunk, and merged into the general

hum of the convivial table, and the poet Halcro again resumed his

usurped possession of the ear of Mordaunt Mertoun.

"Whereabouts was I?" he said, with a tone which expressed to his weary

listener more plainly than words could, how much of his desultory tale

yet remained to be told. "O, I remember--we were just at the door of the

Wits' Coffeehouse--it was set up by one"----

"Nay, but, my dear Master Halcro," said his hearer, somewhat

impatiently, "I am desirous to hear of your meeting with Dryden."

"What, with glorious John?--true--ay--where was I? At the Wits'

Coffeehouse--Well, in at the door we got--the waiters, and so forth,

staring at me; for as to Thimblethwaite, honest fellow, his was a

well-known face.--I can tell you a story about that"----

"Nay, but John Dryden?" said Mordaunt, in a tone which deprecated

further digression.

"Ay, ay, glorious John--where was I?--Well, as we stood close by the

bar, where one fellow sat grinding of coffee, and another putting up

tobacco into penny parcels--a pipe and a dish cost just a penny--then

and there it was that I had the first peep of him. One Dennis sat near

him, who"----

"Nay, but John Dryden--what like was he?" demanded Mordaunt.

"Like a little fat old man, with his own grey hair, and in a

full-trimmed black suit, that sat close as a glove. Honest

Thimblethwaite let no one but himself shape for glorious John, and he

had a slashing hand at a sleeve, I promise you--But there is no getting

a mouthful of common sense spoken here--d----n that Scotchman, he and

old Magnus are at it again!"

It was very true; and although the interruption did not resemble a

thunder-clap, to which the former stentorian exclamation of the Udaller

might have been likened, it was a close and clamorous dispute,

maintained by question, answer, retort, and repartee, as closely huddled

upon each other as the sounds which announce from a distance a close and

sustained fire of musketry.

"Hear reason, sir?" said the Udaller; "we will hear reason, and speak

reason too; and if reason fall short, you shall have rhyme to boot.--Ha,

my little friend Halcro!"

Though cut off in the middle of his best story, (if that could be said

to have a middle, which had neither beginning nor end,) the bard

bristled up at the summons, like a corps of light infantry when ordered

up to the support of the grenadiers, looked smart, slapped the table

with his hand, and denoted his becoming readiness to back his hospitable

landlord, as becomes a well-entertained guest. Triptolemus was a little

daunted at this reinforcement of his adversary; he paused, like a

cautious general, in the sweeping attack which he had commenced on the

peculiar usages of Zetland, and spoke not again until the Udaller poked

him with the insulting query, "Where is your reason now, Master

Yellowley, that you were deafening me with a moment since?"

"Be but patient, worthy sir," replied the agriculturist; "what on earth

can you or any other man say in defence of that thing you call a plough,

in this blinded country? Why, even the savage Highlandmen, in Caithness

and Sutherland, can make more work, and better, with their gascromh, or

whatever they call it."

"But what ails you at it, sir?" said the Udaller; "let me hear your

objections to it. It tills our land, and what would ye more?"

"It hath but one handle or stilt," replied Triptolemus.

"And who the devil," said the poet, aiming at something smart, "would

wish to need a pair of stilts, if he can manage to walk with a single

one?"

"Or tell me," said Magnus Troil, "how it were possible for Neil of

Lupness, that lost one arm by his fall from the crag of Nekbreckan, to

manage a plough with two handles?"

"The harness is of raw seal-skin," said Triptolemus.

"It will save dressed leather," answered Magnus Troil.

"It is drawn by four wretched bullocks," said the agriculturist, "that

are yoked breast-fashion; and two women must follow this unhappy

instrument, and complete the furrows with a couple of shovels."

"Drink about, Master Yellowley," said the Udaller; "and, as you say in

Scotland, 'never fash your thumb.' Our cattle are too high-spirited to

let one go before the other; our men are too gentle and well-nurtured to

take the working-field without the women's company; our ploughs till our

land--our land bears us barley; we brew our ale, eat our bread, and make

strangers welcome to their share of it. Here's to you, Master

Yellowley."

This was said in a tone meant to be decisive of the question; and,

accordingly, Halcro whispered to Mordaunt, "That has settled the matter,

and now we will get on with glorious John.--There he sat in his suit of

full-trimmed black; two years due was the bill, as mine honest landlord

afterwards told me,--and such an eye in his head!--none of your burning,

blighting, falcon eyes, which we poets are apt to make a rout

about,--but a soft, full, thoughtful, yet penetrating glance--never saw

the like of it in my life, unless it were little Stephen Kleancogg's,

the fiddler, at Papastow, who"----

"Nay, but John Dryden?" said Mordaunt, who, for want of better

amusement, had begun to take a sort of pleasure in keeping the old

gentleman to his narrative, as men herd in a restiff sheep, when they

wish to catch him. He returned to his theme, with his usual phrase of

"Ay, true--glorious John--Well, sir, he cast his eye, such as I have

described it, on mine landlord, and 'Honest Tim,' said he, 'what hast

thou got here?' and all the wits, and lords, and gentlemen, that used to

crowd round him, like the wenches round a pedlar at a fair, they made

way for us, and up we came to the fireside, where he had his own

established chair,--I have heard it was carried to the balcony in

summer, but it was by the fireside when I saw it,--so up came Tim

Thimblethwaite, through the midst of them, as bold as a lion, and I

followed with a small parcel under my arm, which I had taken up partly

to oblige my landlord, as the shop porter was not in the way, and partly

that I might be thought to have something to do there, for you are to

think there was no admittance at the Wits' for strangers who had no

business there.--I have heard that Sir Charles Sedley said a good thing

about that"----

"Nay, but you forget glorious John," said Mordaunt.

"Ay, glorious you may well call him. They talk of their Blackmore, and

Shadwell, and such like,--not fit to tie the latchets of John's

shoes--'Well,' he said to my landlord, 'what have you got there?' and

he, bowing, I warrant, lower than he would to a duke, said he had made

bold to come and show him the stuff which Lady Elizabeth had chose for

her nightgown.--'And which of your geese is that, Tim, who has got it

tucked under his wing?'--'He is an Orkney goose, if it please you, Mr.

Dryden,' said Tim, who had wit at will, 'and he hath brought you a copy

of verses for your honour to look at.'--'Is he amphibious?' said

glorious John, taking the paper,--and methought I could rather have

faced a battery of cannon than the crackle it gave as it opened, though

he did not speak in a way to dash one neither;--and then he looked at

the verses, and he was pleased to say, in a very encouraging way indeed,

with a sort of good-humoured smile on his face, and certainly for a fat

elderly gentleman,--for I would not compare it to Minna's smile, or

Brenda's,--he had the pleasantest smile I ever saw,--'Why, Tim,' he

said, 'this goose of yours will prove a swan on your hands.' With that

he smiled a little, and they all laughed, and none louder than those who

stood too far off to hear the jest; for every one knew when he smiled

there was something worth laughing at, and so took it upon trust; and

the word passed through among the young Templars, and the wits, and the

smarts, and there was nothing but question on question who we were; and

one French fellow was trying to tell them it was only Monsieur Tim

Thimblethwaite; but he made such work with his Dumbletate and

Timbletate, that I thought his explanation would have lasted"----

"As long as your own story," thought Mordaunt; but the narrative was at

length finally cut short, by the strong and decided voice of the

Udaller.

"I will hear no more on it, Mr. Factor!" he exclaimed.

"At least let me say something about the breed of horses," said

Yellowley, in rather a cry-mercy tone of voice. "Your horses, my dear

sir, resemble cats in size, and tigers in devilry!"

"For their size," said Magnus, "they are the easier for us to get off

and on them--[as Triptolemus experienced this morning, thought Mordaunt

to himself]--and, as for their devilry, let no one mount them that

cannot manage them."

A twinge of self-conviction, on the part of the agriculturist, prevented

him from reply. He darted a deprecatory glance at Mordaunt, as if for

the purpose of imploring secrecy respecting his tumble; and the Udaller,

who saw his advantage, although he was not aware of the cause, pursued

it with the high and stern tone proper to one who had all his life been

unaccustomed to meet with, and unapt to endure, opposition.

"By the blood of Saint Magnus the Martyr," he said, "but you are a fine

fellow, Master Factor Yellowley! You come to us from a strange land,

understanding neither our laws, nor our manners, nor our language, and

you propose to become governor of the country, and that we should all be

your slaves!"

"My pupils, worthy sir, my pupils!" said Yellowley, "and that only for

your own proper advantage."

"We are too old to go to school," said the Zetlander. "I tell you once

more, we will sow and reap our grain as our fathers did--we will eat

what God sends us, with our doors open to the stranger, even as theirs

were open. If there is aught imperfect in our practice, we will amend it

in time and season; but the blessed Baptist's holyday was made for light

hearts and quick heels. He that speaks a word more of reason, as you

call it, or any thing that looks like it, shall swallow a pint of

sea-water--he shall, by this hand!--and so fill up the good ship, the

Jolly Mariner of Canton, once more, for the benefit of those that will

stick by her; and let the rest have a fling with the fiddlers, who have

been summoning us this hour. I will warrant every wench is on tiptoe by

this time. Come, Mr. Yellowley, no unkindness, man--why, man, thou

feelest the rolling of the Jolly Mariner still"--(for, in truth, honest

Triptolemus showed a little unsteadiness of motion, as he rose to attend

his host)--"but never mind, we shall have thee find thy land-legs to

reel it with yonder bonny belles. Come along, Triptolemus--let me

grapple thee fast, lest thou _trip_, old Triptolemus--ha, ha, ha!"

So saying, the portly though weatherbeaten hulk of the Udaller sailed

off like a man-of-war that had braved a hundred gales, having his guest

in tow like a recent prize. The greater part of the revellers followed

their leader with loud jubilee, although there were several stanch

topers, who, taking the option left them by the Udaller, remained behind

to relieve the Jolly Mariner of a fresh cargo, amidst many a pledge to

the health of their absent landlord, and to the prosperity of his

roof-tree, with whatsoever other wishes of kindness could be devised, as

an apology for another pint-bumper of noble punch.

The rest soon thronged the dancing-room, an apartment which partook of

the simplicity of the time and of the country. Drawing-rooms and saloons

were then unknown in Scotland, save in the houses of the nobility, and

of course absolutely so in Zetland; but a long, low, anomalous

store-room, sometimes used for the depositation of merchandise,

sometimes for putting aside lumber, and a thousand other purposes, was

well known to all the youth of Dunrossness, and of many a district

besides, as the scene of the merry dance, which was sustained with so

much glee when Magnus Troil gave his frequent feasts.

The first appearance of this ball-room might have shocked a fashionable

party, assembled for the quadrille or the waltz. Low as we have stated

the apartment to be, it was but imperfectly illuminated by lamps,

candles, ship-lanterns, and a variety of other _candelabra_, which

served to throw a dusky light upon the floor, and upon the heaps of

merchandise and miscellaneous articles which were piled around; some of

them stores for the winter; some, goods destined for exportation; some,

the tribute of Neptune, paid at the expense of shipwrecked vessels,

whose owners were unknown; some, articles of barter received by the

proprietor, who, like most others at the period, was somewhat of a

merchant as well as a landholder, in exchange for the fish, and other

articles, the produce of his estate. All these, with the chests, boxes,

casks, &c., which contained them, had been drawn aside, and piled one

above the other, in order to give room for the dancers, who, light and

lively as if they had occupied the most splendid saloon in the parish of

St. James's, executed their national dances with equal grace and

activity.

The group of old men who looked on, bore no inconsiderable resemblance

to a party of aged tritons, engaged in beholding the sports of the

sea-nymphs; so hard a look had most of them acquired by contending with

the elements, and so much did the shaggy hair and beards, which many of

them cultivated after the ancient Norwegian fashion, give their heads

the character of these supposed natives of the deep. The young people,

on the other hand, were uncommonly handsome, tall, well-made, and

shapely; the men with long fair hair, and, until broken by the weather,

a fresh ruddy complexion, which, in the females, was softened into a

bloom of infinite delicacy. Their natural good ear for music qualified

them to second to the utmost the exertions of a band, whose strains were

by no means contemptible; while the elders, who stood around or sat

quiet upon the old sea-chests, which served for chairs, criticised the

dancers, as they compared their execution with their own exertions in

former days; or, warmed by the cup and flagon, which continued to

circulate among them, snapped their fingers, and beat time with their

feet to the music.

Mordaunt looked upon this scene of universal mirth with the painful

recollection, that he, thrust aside from his pre-eminence, no longer

exercised the important duties of chief of the dancers, or office of

leader of the revels, which had been assigned to the stranger Cleveland.

Anxious, however, to suppress the feelings of his own disappointment,

which he felt it was neither wise to entertain nor manly to display, he

approached his fair neighbours, to whom he had been so acceptable at

table, with the purpose of inviting one of them to become his partner in

the dance. But the awfully ancient old lady, even the Lady Glowrowrum,

who had only tolerated the exuberance of her nieces' mirth during the

time of dinner, because her situation rendered it then impossible for

her to interfere, was not disposed to permit the apprehended renewal of

the intimacy implied in Mertoun's invitation. She therefore took upon

herself, in the name of her two nieces, who sat pouting beside her in

displeased silence, to inform Mordaunt, after thanking him for his

civility, that the hands of her nieces were engaged for that evening;

and, as he continued to watch the party at a little distance, he had an

opportunity of being convinced that the alleged engagement was a mere

apology to get rid of him, when he saw the two good-humoured sisters

join the dance, under the auspices of the next young men who asked their

hands. Incensed at so marked a slight, and unwilling to expose himself

to another, Mordaunt Mertoun drew back from the circle of dancers,

shrouded himself amongst the mass of inferior persons who crowded into

the bottom of the room as spectators, and there, concealed from the

observation of others, digested his own mortification as well as he

could--that is to say, very ill--and with all the philosophy of his

age--that is to say, with none at all.

CHAPTER XV.

A torch for me--let wantons, light of heart,

Tickle the useless rushes with their heels:

For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase--

I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

_Romeo and Juliet._

The youth, says the moralist Johnson, cares not for the boy's

hobbyhorse, nor the man for the youth's mistress; and therefore the

distress of Mordaunt Mertoun, when excluded from the merry dance, may

seem trifling to many of my readers, who would, nevertheless, think they

did well to be angry if deposed from their usual place in an assembly of

a different kind. There lacked not amusement, however, for those whom

the dance did not suit, or who were not happy enough to find partners to

their liking. Halcro, now completely in his element, had assembled round

him an audience, to whom he was declaiming his poetry with all the

enthusiasm of glorious John himself, and receiving in return the usual

degree of applause allowed to minstrels who recite their own rhymes--so

long at least as the author is within hearing of the criticism. Halcro's

poetry might indeed have interested the antiquary as well as the admirer

of the Muses, for several of his pieces were translations or imitations

from the Scaldic sagas, which continued to be sung by the fishermen of

those islands even until a very late period; insomuch, that when Gray's

poems first found their way to Orkney, the old people recognised at

once, in the ode of the "Fatal Sisters," the Runic rhymes which had

amused or terrified their infancy under the title of the "Magicians,"

and which the fishers of North Ronaldshaw, and other remote isles, used

still to sing when asked for a Norse ditty.[41]

Half listening, half lost in his own reflections, Mordaunt Mertoun stood

near the door of the apartment, and in the outer ring of the little

circle formed around old Halcro, while the bard chanted to a low, wild,

monotonous air, varied only by the efforts of the singer to give

interest and emphasis to particular passages, the following imitation of

a Northern war-song:

THE SONG OF HAROLD HARFAGER.

The sun is rising dimly red,

The wind is wailing low and dread;

From his cliff the eagle sallies,

Leaves the wolf his darksome valleys;

In the midst the ravens hover,

Peep the wild-dogs from the cover,

Screaming, croaking, baying, yelling,

Each in his wild accents telling,

"Soon we feast on dead and dying,

Fair-hair'd Harold's flag is flying."

Many a crest in air is streaming,

Many a helmet darkly gleaming,

Many an arm the axe uprears,

Doom'd to hew the wood of spears.

All along the crowded ranks,

Horses neigh and armour clanks;

Chiefs are shouting, clarions ringing,

Louder still the bard is singing,

"Gather, footmen,--gather, horsemen,

To the field, ye valiant Norsemen!

"Halt ye not for food or slumber,

View not vantage, count not number;

Jolly reapers, forward still;

Grow the crop on vale or hill,

Thick or scatter'd, stiff or lithe,

It shall down before the scythe.

Forward with your sickles bright,

Reap the harvest of the fight--

Onward, footmen,--onward, horsemen,

To the charge, ye gallant Norsemen!

"Fatal Choosers of the Slaughter,

O'er you hovers Odin's daughter;

Hear the voice she spreads before ye,--

Victory, and wealth, and glory;

Or old Valhalla's roaring hail,

Her ever-circling mead and ale,

Where for eternity unite

The joys of wassail and of fight.

Headlong forward, foot and horsemen,

Charge and fight, and die like Norsemen!"

"The poor unhappy blinded heathens!" said Triptolemus, with a sigh deep

enough for a groan; "they speak of their eternal cups of ale, and I

question if they kend how to manage a croft land of grain!"

"The cleverer fellows they, neighbour Yellowley," answered the poet, "if

they made ale without barley."

"Barley!--alack-a-day!" replied the more accurate agriculturist, "who

ever heard of barley in these parts? Bear, my dearest friend, bear is

all they have, and wonderment it is to me that they ever see an awn of

it. Ye scart the land with a bit thing ye ca' a pleugh--ye might as weel

give it a ritt with the teeth of a redding-kame. O, to see the sock, and

the heel, and the sole-clout of a real steady Scottish pleugh, with a

chield like a Samson between the stilts, laying a weight on them would

keep down a mountain; twa stately owsen, and as many broad-breasted

horse in the traces, going through soil and till, and leaving a fur in

the ground would carry off water like a causeyed syver! They that have

seen a sight like that, have seen something to crack about in another

sort, than those unhappy auld-warld stories of war and slaughter, of

which the land has seen even but too mickle, for a' your singing and

soughing awa in praise of such bloodthirsty doings, Master Claud

Halcro."

"It is a heresy," said the animated little poet, bridling and drawing

himself up, as if the whole defence of the Orcadian Archipelago rested

on his single arm--"It is a heresy so much as to name one's native

country, if a man is not prepared when and how to defend himself--ay,

and to annoy another. The time has been, that if we made not good ale

and aquavitæ, we knew well enough where to find that which was ready

made to our hand; but now the descendants of Sea-kings, and Champions,

and Berserkars, are become as incapable of using their swords, as if

they were so many women. Ye may praise them for a strong pull on an oar,

or a sure foot on a skerry; but what else could glorious John himself

say of ye, my good Hialtlanders, that any man would listen to?"

"Spoken like an angel, most noble poet," said Cleveland, who, during an

interval of the dance, stood near the party in which this conversation

was held. "The old champions you talked to us about yesternight, were

the men to make a harp ring--gallant fellows, that were friends to the

sea, and enemies to all that sailed on it. Their ships, I suppose, were

clumsy enough; but if it is true that they went upon the account as far

as the Levant, I scarce believe that ever better fellows unloosed a

topsail."

"Ay," replied Halcro, "there you spoke them right. In those days none

could call their life and means of living their own, unless they dwelt

twenty miles out of sight of the blue sea. Why, they had public prayers

put up in every church in Europe, for deliverance from the ire of the

Northmen. In France and England, ay, and in Scotland too, for as high as

they hold their head now-a-days, there was not a bay or a haven, but it

was freer to our forefathers than to the poor devils of natives; and now

we cannot, forsooth, so much as grow our own barley without Scottish

help"--(here he darted a sarcastic glance at the factor)--"I would I saw

the time we were to measure arms with them again!"

"Spoken like a hero once more," said Cleveland.

"Ah!" continued the little bard, "I would it were possible to see our

barks, once the water-dragons of the world, swimming with the black

raven standard waving at the topmast, and their decks glimmering with

arms, instead of being heaped up with stockfish--winning with our

fearless hands what the niggard soil denies--paying back all old scorn

and modern injury--reaping where we never sowed, and felling what we

never planted--living and laughing through the world, and smiling when

we were summoned to quit it!"

So spoke Claud Halcro, in no serious, or at least most certainly in no

sober mood, his brain (never the most stable) whizzing under the

influence of fifty well-remembered sagas, besides five bumpers of

usquebaugh and brandy; and Cleveland, between jest and earnest, clapped

him on the shoulder, and again repeated, "Spoken like a hero!"

"Spoken like a fool, I think," said Magnus Troil, whose attention had

been also attracted by the vehemence of the little bard--"where would

you cruize upon, or against whom?--we are all subjects of one realm, I

trow, and I would have you to remember, that your voyage may bring up at

Execution-dock.--I like not the Scots--no offence, Mr. Yellowley--that

is, I would like them well enough if they would stay quiet in their own

land, and leave us at peace with our own people, and manners, and

fashions; and if they would but abide there till I went to harry them

like a mad old Berserkar, I would leave them in peace till the day of

judgment. With what the sea sends us, and the land lends us, as the

proverb says, and a set of honest neighbourly folks to help us to

consume it, so help me, Saint Magnus, as I think we are even but too

happy!"

"I know what war is," said an old man, "and I would as soon sail through

Sumburgh-roost in a cockle-shell, or in a worse loom, as I would venture

there again."

"And, pray, what wars knew your valour?" said Halcro, who, though

forbearing to contradict his landlord from a sense of respect, was not a

whit inclined to abandon his argument to any meaner authority.

"I was pressed," answered the old Triton, "to serve under Montrose, when

he came here about the sixteen hundred and fifty-one, and carried a sort

of us off, will ye nill ye, to get our throats cut in the wilds of

Strathnavern[42](_k_)--I shall never forget it--we had been hard put to

it for victuals--what would I have given for a luncheon of Burgh-Westra

beef--ay, or a mess of sour sillocks?--When our Highlandmen brought in a

dainty drove of kyloes, much ceremony there was not, for we shot and

felled, and flayed, and roasted, and broiled, as it came to every man's

hand; till, just as our beards were at the greasiest, we heard--God

preserve us--a tramp of horse, then twa or three drapping shots,--then

came a full salvo,--and then, when the officers were crying on us to

stand, and maist of us looking which way we might run away, down they

broke, horse and foot, with old John Urry, or Hurry,[43] or whatever

they called him--he hurried us that day, and worried us to boot--and we

began to fall as thick as the stots that we were felling five minutes

before."

"And Montrose," said the soft voice of the graceful Minna; "what became

of Montrose, or how looked he?"

"Like a lion with the hunters before him," answered the old gentleman;

"but I looked not twice his way, for my own lay right over the hill."

"And so you left him?" said Minna, in a tone of the deepest contempt.

"It was no fault of mine, Mistress Minna," answered the old man,

somewhat out of countenance; "but I was there with no choice of my own;

and, besides, what good could I have done?--all the rest were running

like sheep, and why should I have staid?"

"You might have died with him," said Minna.

"And lived with him to all eternity, in immortal verse!" added Claud

Halcro.

"I thank you, Mistress Minna," replied the plain-dealing Zetlander; "and

I thank you, my old friend Claud;--but I would rather drink both your

healths in this good bicker of ale, like a living man as I am, than that

you should be making songs in my honour, for having died forty or fifty

years agone. But what signified it,--run or fight, 'twas all one;--they

took Montrose, poor fellow, for all his doughty deeds, and they took me

that did no doughty deeds at all; and they hanged him, poor man, and as

for me"----

"I trust in Heaven they flogged and pickled you," said Cleveland, worn

out of patience with the dull narrative of the peaceful Zetlander's

poltroonery, of which he seemed so wondrous little ashamed.

"Flog horses, and pickle beef," said Magnus; "Why, you have not the

vanity to think, that, with all your quarterdeck airs, you will make

poor old neighbour Haagen ashamed that he was not killed some scores of

years since? You have looked on death yourself, my doughty young friend,

but it was with the eyes of a young man who wishes to be thought of; but

we are a peaceful people,--peaceful, that is, as long as any one should

be peaceful, and that is till some one has the impudence to wrong us, or

our neighbours; and then, perhaps, they may not find our northern blood

much cooler in our veins than was that of the old Scandinavians that

gave us our names and lineage.--Get ye along, get ye along to the

sword-dance,[44] that the strangers that are amongst us may see that our

hands and our weapons are not altogether unacquainted even yet."

A dozen cutlasses, selected hastily from an old arm-chest, and whose

rusted hue bespoke how seldom they left the sheath, armed the same

number of young Zetlanders, with whom mingled six maidens, led by Minna

Troil; and the minstrelsy instantly commenced a tune appropriate to the

ancient Norwegian war-dance, the evolutions of which are perhaps still

practised in those remote islands.

[Illustration]

The first movement was graceful and majestic, the youths holding their

swords erect, and without much gesture; but the tune, and the

corresponding motions of the dancers, became gradually more and more

rapid,--they clashed their swords together, in measured time, with a

spirit which gave the exercise a dangerous appearance in the eye of the

spectator, though the firmness, justice, and accuracy, with which the

dancers kept time with the stroke of their weapons, did, in truth,

ensure its safety. The most singular part of the exhibition was the

courage exhibited by the female performers, who now, surrounded by the

swordsmen, seemed like the Sabine maidens in the hands of their Roman

lovers; now, moving under the arch of steel which the young men had

formed, by crossing their weapons over the heads of their fair partners,

resembled the band of Amazons when they first joined in the Pyrrhic

dance with the followers of Theseus. But by far the most striking and

appropriate figure was that of Minna Troil, whom Halcro had long

since entitled the Queen of Swords, and who, indeed, moved amidst the

swordsmen with an air, which seemed to hold all the drawn blades as the

proper accompaniments of her person, and the implements of her pleasure.

And when the mazes of the dance became more intricate, when the close

and continuous clash of the weapons made some of her companions shrink,

and show signs of fear, her cheek, her lip, and her eye, seemed rather

to announce, that, at the moment when the weapons flashed fastest, and

rung sharpest around her, she was most completely self-possessed, and in

her own element. Last of all, when the music had ceased, and she

remained for an instant upon the floor by herself, as the rule of the

dance required, the swordsmen and maidens, who departed from around her,

seemed the guards and the train of some princess, who, dismissed by her

signal, were leaving her for a time to solitude. Her own look and

attitude, wrapped, as she probably was, in some vision of the

imagination, corresponded admirably with the ideal dignity which the

spectators ascribed to her; but, almost immediately recollecting

herself, she blushed, as if conscious she had been, though but for an

instant, the object of undivided attention, and gave her hand gracefully

to Cleveland, who, though he had not joined in the dance, assumed the

duty of conducting her to her seat.

As they passed, Mordaunt Mertoun might observe that Cleveland whispered

into Minna's ear, and that her brief reply was accompanied with even

more discomposure of countenance than she had manifested when

encountering the gaze of the whole assembly. Mordaunt's suspicions were

strongly awakened by what he observed, for he knew Minna's character

well, and with what equanimity and indifference she was in the custom of

receiving the usual compliments and gallantries with which her beauty

and her situation rendered her sufficiently familiar.

"Can it be possible she really loves this stranger?" was the unpleasant

thought that instantly shot across Mordaunt's mind;--"And if she does,

what is my interest in the matter?" was the second; and which was

quickly followed by the reflection, that though he claimed no interest

at any time but as a friend, and though that interest was now withdrawn,

he was still, in consideration of their former intimacy, entitled both

to be sorry and angry at her for throwing away her affections on one he

judged unworthy of her. In this process of reasoning, it is probable

that a little mortified vanity, or some indescribable shade of selfish

regret, might be endeavouring to assume the disguise of disinterested

generosity; but there is so much of base alloy in our very best

(unassisted) thoughts, that it is melancholy work to criticise too

closely the motives of our most worthy actions; at least we would

recommend to every one to let those of his neighbours pass current,

however narrowly he may examine the purity of his own.

The sword-dance was succeeded by various other specimens of the same

exercise, and by songs, to which the singers lent their whole soul,

while the audience were sure, as occasion offered, to unite in some

favourite chorus. It is upon such occasions that music, though of a

simple and even rude character, finds its natural empire over the

generous bosom, and produces that strong excitement which cannot be

attained by the most learned compositions of the first masters, which

are caviare to the common ear, although, doubtless, they afford a

delight, exquisite in its kind, to those whose natural capacity and

education have enabled them to comprehend and relish those difficult and

complicated combinations of harmony.

It was about midnight when a knocking at the door of the mansion, with

the sound of the _Gue_ and the _Langspiel_, announced, by their tinkling

chime, the arrival of fresh revellers, to whom, according to the

hospitable custom of the country, the apartments were instantly thrown

open.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] See Note I.--Norse Fragments.

[42] Montrose, in his last and ill-advised attempt to invade Scotland,

augmented his small army of Danes and Scottish Royalists, by some bands

of raw troops, hastily levied, or rather pressed into his service, in

the Orkney and Zetland Isles, who, having little heart either to the

cause or manner of service, behaved but indifferently when they came

into action.

[43] Here, as afterwards remarked in the text, the Zetlander's memory

deceived him grossly. Sir John Urry, a brave soldier of fortune, was at

that time in Montrose's army, and made prisoner along with him. He had

changed so often that the mistake is pardonable. After the action, he

was executed by the Covenanters; and

"Wind-changing Warwick then could change no more"

Strachan commanded the body by which Montrose was routed.

[44] Note VII.--The Sword-Dance.(_l_)

CHAPTER XVI.

--------My mind misgives,

Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels.

_Romeo and Juliet._

The new-comers were, according to the frequent custom of such frolickers

all over the world, disguised in a sort of masquing habits, and designed

to represent the Tritons and Mermaids, with whom ancient tradition and

popular belief have peopled the northern seas. The former, called by

Zetlanders of that time, Shoupeltins, were represented by young men

grotesquely habited, with false hair, and beards made of flax, and

chaplets composed of sea-ware interwoven with shells, and other marine

productions, with which also were decorated their light-blue or greenish

mantles of wadmaal, repeatedly before-mentioned. They had fish-spears,

and other emblems of their assumed quality, amongst which the classical

taste of Claud Halcro, by whom the masque was arranged, had not

forgotten the conch-shells, which were stoutly and hoarsely winded, from

time to time, by one or two of the aquatic deities, to the great

annoyance of all who stood near them.

The Nereids and Water-nymphs who attended on this occasion, displayed,

as usual, a little more taste and ornament than was to be seen amongst

their male attendants. Fantastic garments of green silk, and other

materials of superior cost and fashion, had been contrived, so as to

imitate their idea of the inhabitants of the waters, and, at the same

time, to show the shape and features of the fair wearers to the best

advantage. The bracelets and shells, which adorned the neck, arms, and

ankles of the pretty Mermaidens, were, in some cases, intermixed with

real pearls; and the appearance, upon the whole, was such as might have

done no discredit to the court of Amphitrite, especially when the long

bright locks, blue eyes, fair complexions, and pleasing features of the

maidens of Thule, were taken into consideration. We do not indeed

pretend to aver, that any of these seeming Mermaids had so accurately

imitated the real siren, as commentators have supposed those attendant

on Cleopatra did, who, adopting the fish's train of their original, were

able, nevertheless, to make their "bends," or "ends," (said commentators

cannot tell which,) "adornings."[45] Indeed, had they not left their

extremities in their natural state, it would have been impossible for

the Zetland sirens to have executed the very pretty dance, with which

they rewarded the company for the ready admission which had been granted

to them.

It was soon discovered that these masquers were no strangers, but a part

of the guests, who, stealing out a little time before, had thus

disguised themselves, in order to give variety to the mirth of the

evening. The muse of Claud Halcro, always active on such occasions, had

supplied them with an appropriate song, of which we may give the

following specimen. The song was alternate betwixt a Nereid or Mermaid,

and a Merman or Triton--the males and females on either part forming a

semi-chorus, which accompanied and bore burden to the principal singer.

I.

MERMAID.

Fathoms deep beneath the wave,

Stringing beads of glistering pearl,

Singing the achievements brave

Of many an old Norwegian earl;

Dwelling where the tempest's raving

Falls as light upon our ear,

As the sigh of lover, craving

Pity from his lady dear,

Children of wild Thule, we,

From the deep caves of the sea,

As the lark springs from the lea,

Hither come, to share your glee.

II.

MERMAN.

From reining of the water-horse,

That bounded till the waves were foaming,

Watching the infant tempest's course,

Chasing the sea-snake in his roaming;

From winding charge-notes on the shell,

When the huge whale and sword-fish duel,

Or tolling shroudless seamen's knell,

When the winds and waves are cruel;

Children of wild Thule, we

Have plough'd such furrows on the sea

As the steer draws on the lea,

And hither we come to share your glee.

III.

MERMAIDS AND MERMEN.

We heard you in our twilight caves,

A hundred fathom deep below,

For notes of joy can pierce the waves,

That drown each sound of war and woe.

Those who dwell beneath the sea

Love the sons of Thule well;

Thus, to aid your mirth, bring we

Dance, and song, and sounding shell.

Children of dark Thule, know,

Those who dwell by haaf and voe,

Where your daring shallops row,

Come to share the festal show.

The final chorus was borne by the whole voices, excepting those carrying

the conch-shells, who had been trained to blow them in a sort of rude

accompaniment, which had a good effect. The poetry, as well as the

performance of the masquers, received great applause from all who

pretended to be judges of such matters; but above all, from Triptolemus

Yellowley, who, his ear having caught the agricultural sounds of plough

and furrow, and his brain being so well drenched that it could only

construe the words in their most literal acceptation, declared roundly,

and called Mordaunt to bear witness, that, though it was a shame to

waste so much good lint as went to form the Tritons' beards and

periwigs, the song contained the only words of common sense which he had

heard all that long day.

But Mordaunt had no time to answer the appeal, being engaged in

attending with the utmost vigilance to the motions of one of the female

masquers, who had given him a private signal as they entered, which

induced him, though uncertain who she might prove to be, to expect some

communication from her of importance. The siren who had so boldly

touched his arm, and had accompanied the gesture with an expression of

eye which bespoke his attention, was disguised with a good deal more

care than her sister-masquers, her mantle being loose, and wide enough

to conceal her shape completely, and her face hidden beneath a silk

mask. He observed that she gradually detached herself from the rest of

the masquers, and at length placed herself, as if for the advantage of

the air, near the door of a chamber which remained open, looked

earnestly at him again, and then taking an opportunity, when the

attention of the company was fixed upon the rest of her party, she left

the apartment.

Mordaunt did not hesitate instantly to follow his mysterious guide, for

such we may term the masquer, as she paused to let him see the direction

she was about to take, and then walked swiftly towards the shore of the

voe, or salt-water lake, now lying full before them, its small

summer-waves glistening and rippling under the influence of a broad

moonlight, which, added to the strong twilight of those regions during

the summer solstice, left no reason to regret the absence of the sun,

the path of whose setting was still visible on the waves of the west,

while the horizon on the east side was already beginning to glimmer with

the lights of dawn.

Mordaunt had therefore no difficulty in keeping sight of his disguised

guide, as she tripped it over height and hollow to the sea-side, and,

winding among the rocks, led the way to the spot where his own labours,

during the time of his former intimacy at Burgh-Westra, had constructed

a sheltered and solitary seat, where the daughters of Magnus were

accustomed to spend, when the weather was suitable, a good deal of their

time. Here, then, was to be the place of explanation; for the masquer

stopped, and, after a moment's hesitation, sat down on the rustic

settle. But, from the lips of whom was he to receive it? Norna had first

occurred to him; but her tall figure and slow majestic step were

entirely different from the size and gait of the more fairy-formed

siren, who had preceded him with as light a trip as if she had been a

real Nereid, who, having remained too late upon the shore, was, under

the dread of Amphitrite's displeasure, hastening to regain her native

element. Since it was not Norna, it could be only, he thought, Brenda,

who thus singled him out; and when she had seated herself upon the

bench, and taken the mask from her face, Brenda it accordingly proved to

be. Mordaunt had certainly done nothing to make him dread her presence;

and yet, such is the influence of bashfulness over the ingenuous youth

of both sexes, that he experienced all the embarrassment of one who

finds himself unexpectedly placed before a person who is justly offended

with him. Brenda felt no less embarrassment; but as she had sought this

interview, and was sensible it must be a brief one, she was compelled,

in spite of herself, to begin the conversation.

"Mordaunt," she said, with a hesitating voice; then correcting herself,

she proceeded--"You must be surprised, Mr. Mertoun, that I should have

taken this uncommon freedom."

"It was not till this morning, Brenda," replied Mordaunt, "that any mark

of friendship or intimacy from you or from your sister could have

surprised me. I am far more astonished that you should shun me without

reason for so many hours, than that you should now allow me an

interview. In the name of Heaven, Brenda, in what have I offended you?

or why are we on these unusual terms?"

"May it not be enough to say," replied Brenda, looking downward, "that

it is my father's pleasure?"

"No, it is not enough," returned Mertoun. "Your father cannot have so

suddenly altered his whole thoughts of me, and his whole actions towards

me, without acting under the influence of some strong delusion. I ask

you but to explain of what nature it is; for I will be contented to be

lower in your esteem than the meanest hind in these islands, if I cannot

show that his change of opinion is only grounded upon some infamous

deception, or some extraordinary mistake."

"It may be so," said Brenda--"I hope it is so--that I do hope it is so,

my desire to see you thus in private may well prove to you. But it is

difficult--in short, it is impossible for me to explain to you the cause

of my father's resentment. Norna has spoken with him concerning it

boldly, and I fear they parted in displeasure; and you well know no

light matter could cause that."

"I have observed," said Mordaunt, "that your father is most attentive to

Norna's counsel, and more complaisant to her peculiarities than to those

of others--this I have observed, though he is no willing believer in the

supernatural qualities to which she lays claim."

"They are related distantly," answered Brenda, "and were friends in

youth--nay, as I have heard, it was once supposed they would have been

married; but Norna's peculiarities showed themselves immediately on her

father's death, and there was an end of that matter, if ever there was

any thing in it. But it is certain my father regards her with much

interest; and it is, I fear, a sign how deeply his prejudices respecting

you must be rooted, since they have in some degree quarrelled on your

account."

"Now, blessings upon you, Brenda, that you have called them prejudices,"

said Mertoun, warmly and hastily--"a thousand blessings on you! You were

ever gentle-hearted--you could not have maintained even the show of

unkindness long."

"It was indeed but a show," said Brenda, softening gradually into the

familiar tone in which they had conversed from infancy; "I could never

think, Mordaunt,--never, that is, seriously believe, that you could say

aught unkind of Minna or of me."

"And who dares to say I have?" said Mordaunt, giving way to the natural

impetuosity of his disposition--"Who dares to say that I have, and

ventures at the same time to hope that I will suffer his tongue to

remain in safety betwixt his jaws? By Saint Magnus the Martyr, I will

feed the hawks with it!"

"Nay, now," said Brenda, "your anger only terrifies me, and will force

me to leave you."

"Leave me," said he, "without telling me either the calumny, or the name

of the villainous calumniator!"

"O, there are more than one," answered Brenda, "that have possessed my

father with an opinion--which I cannot myself tell you--but there are

more than one who say"----

"Were they hundreds, Brenda, I will do no less to them than I have

said--Sacred Martyr!--to accuse me of speaking unkindly of those whom I

most respected and valued under Heaven--I will back to the apartment

this instant, and your father shall do me right before all the world."

"Do not go, for the love of Heaven!" said Brenda; "do not go, as you

would not render me the most unhappy wretch in existence!"

"Tell me then, at least, if I guess aright," said Mordaunt, "when I name

this Cleveland for one of those who have slandered me?"

"No, no," said Brenda, vehemently, "you run from one error into another

more dangerous. You say you are my friend:--I am willing to be

yours:--be but still for a moment, and hear what I have to say;--our

interview has lasted but too long already, and every additional moment

brings additional danger with it."

"Tell me, then," said Mertoun, much softened by the poor girl's extreme

apprehension and distress, "what it is that you require of me; and

believe me, it is impossible for you to ask aught that I will not do my

very uttermost to comply with."

"Well, then--this Captain," said Brenda, "this Cleveland"----

"I knew it, by Heaven!" said Mordaunt; "my mind assured me that that

fellow was, in one way or other, at the bottom of all this mischief and

misunderstanding!"

"If you cannot be silent, and patient, for an instant," replied Brenda,

"I must instantly quit you: what I meant to say had no relation to you,

but to another,--in one word, to my sister Minna. I have nothing to say

concerning her dislike to you, but an anxious tale to tell concerning

his attention to her."

"It is obvious, striking, and marked," said Mordaunt; "and, unless my

eyes deceive me, it is received as welcome, if, indeed, it is not

returned."

"That is the very cause of my fear," said Brenda. "I, too, was struck

with the external appearance, frank manners, and romantic conversation

of this man."

"His appearance!" said Mordaunt; "he is stout and well-featured enough,

to be sure; but, as old Sinclair of Quendale said to the Spanish

admiral, 'Farcie on his face! I have seen many a fairer hang on the

Borough-moor.'--From his manners, he might be captain of a privateer;

and by his conversation, the trumpeter to his own puppetshow; for he

speaks of little else than his own exploits."

"You are mistaken," answered Brenda; "he speaks but too well on all that

he has seen and learned; besides, he has really been in many distant

countries, and in many gallant actions, and he can tell them with as

much spirit as modesty. You would think you saw the flash and heard the

report of the guns. And he has other tones of talking too--about the

delightful trees and fruits of distant climates; and how the people wear

no dress, through the whole year, half so warm as our summer gowns, and,

indeed, put on little except cambric and muslin."

"Upon my word, Brenda, he does seem to understand the business of

amusing young ladies," replied Mordaunt.

"He does, indeed," said Brenda, with great simplicity. "I assure you

that, at first, I liked him better than Minna did; and yet, though she

is so much cleverer than I am, I know more of the world than she does;

for I have seen more of cities, having been once at Kirkwall; besides

that I was thrice at Lerwick, when the Dutch ships were there, and so I

should not be very easily deceived in people."

"And pray, Brenda," said Mertoun, "what was it that made you think less

favourably of this young fellow, who seems to be so captivating?"

"Why," said Brenda, after a moment's reflection, "at first he was much

livelier; and the stories he told were not quite so melancholy, or so

terrible; and he laughed and danced more."

"And, perhaps, at that time, danced oftener with Brenda than with her

sister?" added Mordaunt.

"No--I am not sure of that," said Brenda; "and yet, to speak plain, I

could have no suspicion of him at all while he was attending quite

equally to us both; for you know that then he could have been no more to

us than yourself, Mordaunt Mertoun, or young Swaraster, or any other

young man in the islands."

"But, why then," said Mordaunt, "should you not see him, with patience,

become acquainted with your sister?--He is wealthy, or seems to be so at

least. You say he is accomplished and pleasant;--what else would you

desire in a lover for Minna?"

"Mordaunt, you forget who we are," said the maiden, assuming an air of

consequence, which sat as gracefully upon her simplicity, as did the

different tone in which she had spoken hitherto. "This is a little world

of ours, this Zetland, inferior, perhaps, in soil and climate to other

parts of the earth, at least so strangers say; but it is our own little

world, and we, the daughters of Magnus Troil, hold a first rank in it.

It would I think, little become us, who are descended from Sea-kings

and Jarls, to throw ourselves away upon a stranger, who comes to our

coast, like the eider-duck in spring, from we know not whence, and may

leave it in autumn, to go we know not where."

"And who may yet entice a Zetland golden-eye to accompany his

migration," said Mertoun.

"I will hear nothing light on such a subject," replied Brenda,

indignantly; "Minna, like myself, is the daughter of Magnus Troil, the

friend of strangers, but the Father of Hialtland. He gives them the

hospitality they need; but let not the proudest of them think that they

can, at their pleasure, ally with his house."

She said this in a tone of considerable warmth, which she instantly

softened, as she added, "No, Mordaunt, do not suppose that Minna Troil

is capable of so far forgetting what she owes to her father and her

father's blood, as to think of marrying this Cleveland; but she may lend

an ear to him so long as to destroy her future happiness. She has that

sort of mind, into which some feelings sink deeply;--you remember how

Ulla Storlson used to go, day by day, to the top of Vossdale-head, to

look for her lover's ship that was never to return? When I think of her

slow step, her pale cheek, her eye, that grew dimmer and dimmer, like

the lamp that is half extinguished for lack of oil,--when I remember the

fluttered look, of something like hope, with which she ascended the

cliff at morning, and the deep dead despair which sat on her forehead

when she returned,--when I think on all this, can you wonder that I fear

for Minna, whose heart is formed to entertain, with such deep-rooted

fidelity, any affection that may be implanted in it?"

"I do not wonder," said Mordaunt, eagerly sympathizing with the poor

girl; for, besides the tremulous expression of her voice, the light

could almost show him the tear which trembled in her eye, as she drew

the picture to which her fancy had assimilated her sister,--"I do not

wonder that you should feel and fear whatever the purest affection can

dictate; and if you can but point out to me in what I can serve your

sisterly love, you shall find me as ready to venture my life, if

necessary, as I have been to go out on the crag to get you the eggs of

the guillemot; and, believe me, that whatever has been told to your

father or yourself, of my entertaining the slightest thoughts of

disrespect or unkindness, is as false as a fiend could devise."

"I believe it," said Brenda, giving him her hand; "I believe it, and my

bosom is lighter, now I have renewed my confidence in so old a friend.

How you can aid us, I know not; but it was by the advice, I may say by

the commands, of Norna, that I have ventured to make this communication;

and I almost wonder," she added, as she looked around her, "that I have

had courage to carry me through it. At present you know all that I can

tell you of the risk in which my sister stands. Look after this

Cleveland--beware how you quarrel with him, since you must so surely

come by the worst with an experienced soldier."

"I do not exactly understand," said the youth, "how that should so

surely be. This I know, that with the good limbs and good heart that God

hath given me, ay, and with a good cause to boot--I am little afraid of

any quarrel which Cleveland can fix upon me."

"Then, if not for your own sake, for Minna's sake," said Brenda--"for

my father's--for mine--for all our sakes, avoid any strife with him, but

be contented to watch him, and, if possible, to discover who he is, and

what are his intentions towards us. He has talked of going to Orkney, to

enquire after the consort with whom he sailed; but day after day, and

week after week passes, and he goes not; and while he keeps my father

company over the bottle, and tells Minna romantic stories of foreign

people, and distant wars, in wild and unknown regions, the time glides

on, and the stranger, of whom we know nothing except that he is one,

becomes gradually closer and more inseparably intimate in our

society.--And now, farewell. Norna hopes to make your peace with my

father, and entreats you not to leave Burgh-Westra to-morrow, however

cold he and my sister may appear towards you. I too," she said,

stretching her hand towards him, "must wear a face of cold friendship as

towards an unwelcome visitor, but at heart we are still Brenda and

Mordaunt. And now separate quickly, for we must not be seen together."

She stretched her hand to him, but withdrew it in some slight confusion,

laughing and blushing, when, by a natural impulse, he was about to press

it to his lips. He endeavoured for a moment to detain her, for the

interview had for him a degree of fascination, which, as often as he had

before been alone with Brenda, he had never experienced. But she

extricated herself from him, and again signing an adieu, and pointing

out to him a path different from that which she was herself about to

take, tripped towards the house, and was soon hidden from his view by

the acclivity.

Mordaunt stood gazing after her in a state of mind, to which, as yet,

he had been a stranger. The dubious neutral ground between love and

friendship may be long and safely trodden, until he who stands upon it

is suddenly called upon to recognise the authority of the one or the

other power; and then it most frequently happens, that the party who for

years supposed himself only a friend, finds himself at once transformed

into a lover. That such a change in Mordaunt's feelings should take

place from this date, although he himself was unable exactly to

distinguish its nature, was to be expected. He found himself at once

received, with the most unsuspicious frankness, into the confidence of a

beautiful and fascinating young woman, by whom he had, so short a time

before, imagined himself despised and disliked; and, if any thing could

make a change, in itself so surprising and so pleasing, yet more

intoxicating, it was the guileless and open-hearted simplicity of

Brenda, that cast an enchantment over every thing which she did or said.

The scene, too, might have had its effect, though there was little

occasion for its aid. But a fair face looks yet fairer under the light

of the moon, and a sweet voice sounds yet sweeter among the whispering

sounds of a summer night. Mordaunt, therefore, who had by this time

returned to the house, was disposed to listen with unusual patience and

complacency to the enthusiastic declamation pronounced upon moonlight by

Claud Halcro, whose ecstasies had been awakened on the subject by a

short turn in the open air, undertaken to qualify the vapours of the

good liquor, which he had not spared during the festival.

"The sun, my boy," he said, "is every wretched labourer's

day-lantern--it comes glaring yonder out of the east, to summon up a

whole world to labour and to misery; whereas the merry moon lights all

of us to mirth and to love."

"And to madness, or she is much belied," said Mordaunt, by way of saying

something.

"Let it be so," answered Halcro, "so she does not turn us

melancholy-mad.--My dear young friend, the folks of this painstaking

world are far too anxious about possessing all their wits, or having

them, as they say, about them. At least I know I have been often called

half-witted, and I am sure I have gone through the world as well as if I

had double the quantity. But stop--where was I? O, touching and

concerning the moon--why, man, she is the very soul of love and poetry.

I question if there was ever a true lover in existence who had not got

at least as far as 'O thou,' in a sonnet in her praise."

"The moon," said the factor, who was now beginning to speak very thick,

"ripens corn, at least the old folk said so--and she fills nuts also,

whilk is of less matter--_sparge nuces, pueri_."

"A fine, a fine," said the Udaller, who was now in his altitudes; "the

factor speaks Greek--by the bones of my holy namesake, Saint Magnus, he

shall drink off the yawl full of punch, unless he gives us a song on the

spot!"

"Too much water drowned the miller," answered Triptolemus. "My brain has

more need of draining than of being drenched with more liquor."

"Sing, then," said the despotic landlord, "for no one shall speak any

other language here, save honest Norse, jolly Dutch, or Danske, or broad

Scots, at the least of it. So, Eric Scambester, produce the yawl, and

fill it to the brim, as a charge for demurrage."

Ere the vessel could reach the agriculturist, he, seeing it under way,

and steering towards him by short tacks, (for Scambester himself was by

this time not over steady in his course,) made a desperate effort, and

began to sing, or rather to croak forth, a Yorkshire harvest-home

ballad, which his father used to sing when he was a little mellow, and

which went to the tune of "Hey Dobbin, away with the waggon." The rueful

aspect of the singer, and the desperately discordant tones of his voice,

formed so delightful a contrast with the jollity of the words and tune,

that honest Triptolemus afforded the same sort of amusement which a

reveller might give, by appearing on a festival-day in the holyday-coat

of his grandfather. The jest concluded the evening, for even the mighty

and strong-headed Magnus himself had confessed the influence of the

sleepy god. The guests went off as they best might, each to his separate

crib and resting place, and in a short time the mansion, which was of

late so noisy, was hushed into perfect silence.

FOOTNOTES:

[45] See some admirable discussion on this passage, in the Variorum

Shakspeare.

CHAPTER XVII.

They man their boats, and all the young men arm,

With whatsoever might the monsters harm;

Pikes, halberds, spits, and darts, that wound afar,

The tools of peace, and implements of war.

Now was the time for vigorous lads to show

What love or honour could incite them to;--

A goodly theatre, where rocks are round

With reverend age and lovely lasses crown'd.

_Battle of the Summer Islands._

The morning which succeeds such a feast as that of Magnus Troil, usually

lacks a little of the zest which seasoned the revels of the preceding

day, as the fashionable reader may have observed at a public breakfast

during the race-week in a country town; for, in what is called the best

society, these lingering moments are usually spent by the company, each

apart in their own dressing-rooms. At Burgh-Westra, it will readily be

believed, no such space for retirement was afforded; and the lasses,

with their paler cheeks, the elder dames, with many a wink and yawn,

were compelled to meet with their male companions (headaches and all)

just three hours after they had parted from each other.

Eric Scambester had done all that man could do to supply the full means

of diverting the ennui of the morning meal. The board groaned with

rounds of hung beef, made after the fashion of Zetland--with

pasties--with baked meats--with fish, dressed and cured in every

possible manner; nay, with the foreign delicacies of tea, coffee, and

chocolate; for, as we have already had occasion to remark, the situation

of these islands made them early acquainted with various articles of

foreign luxury, which were, as yet, but little known in Scotland, where,

at a much later period than that we write of, one pound of green tea was

dressed like cabbage, and another converted into a vegetable sauce for

salt beef, by the ignorance of the good housewives to whom they had been

sent as rare presents.

Besides these preparations, the table exhibited whatever mighty potions

are resorted to by _bons vivans_, under the facetious name of a "hair of

the dog that bit you." There was the potent Irish Usquebaugh--right

Nantz--genuine Schiedamm--Aquavitæ from Caithness--and Golden Wasser

from Hamburgh; there was rum of formidable antiquity, and cordials from

the Leeward Islands. After these details, it were needless to mention

the stout home-brewed ale--the German mum, and Schwartz beer--and still

more would it be beneath our dignity to dwell upon the innumerable sorts

of pottage and flummery, together with the bland, and various

preparations of milk, for those who preferred thinner potations.

No wonder that the sight of so much good cheer awakened the appetite and

raised the spirits of the fatigued revellers. The young men began

immediately to seek out their partners of the preceding evening, and to

renew the small talk which had driven the night so merrily away; while

Magnus, with his stout old Norse kindred, encouraged, by precept and

example, those of elder days and graver mood, to a substantial

flirtation with the good things before them. Still, however, there was

a long period to be filled up before dinner; for the most protracted

breakfast cannot well last above an hour; and it was to be feared that

Claud Halcro meditated the occupation of this vacant morning with a

formidable recitation of his own verses, besides telling, at its full

length, the whole history of his introduction to glorious John Dryden.

But fortune relieved the guests of Burgh-Westra from this threatened

infliction, by sending them means of amusement peculiarly suited to

their taste and habits.

Most of the guests were using their toothpicks, some were beginning to

talk of what was to be done next, when, with haste in his step, fire in

his eye, and a harpoon in his hand, Eric Scambester came to announce to

the company, that there was a whale on shore, or nearly so, at the

throat of the voe! Then you might have seen such a joyous, boisterous,

and universal bustle, as only the love of sport, so deeply implanted in

our nature, can possibly inspire. A set of country squires, about to

beat for the first woodcocks of the season, were a comparison as petty,

in respect to the glee, as in regard to the importance of the object;

the battue, upon a strong cover in Ettrick Forest, for the destruction

of the foxes;(_m_) the insurrection of the sportsmen of the Lennox, when

one of the Duke's deer gets out from Inch-Mirran; nay, the joyous rally

of the fox-chase itself, with all its blithe accompaniments of hound and

horn, fall infinitely short of the animation with which the gallant sons

of Thule set off to encounter the monster, whom the sea had sent for

their amusement at so opportune a conjuncture.

The multifarious stores of Burgh-Westra were rummaged hastily for all

sorts of arms, which could be used on such an occasion. Harpoons,

swords, pikes, and halberds, fell to the lot of some; others contented

themselves with hay-forks, spits, and whatever else could be found, that

was at once long and sharp. Thus hastily equipped, one division, under

the command of Captain Cleveland, hastened to man the boats which lay in

the little haven, while the rest of the party hurried by land to the

scene of action.

Poor Triptolemus was interrupted in a plan, which he, too, had formed

against the patience of the Zetlanders, and which was to have consisted

in a lecture upon the agriculture, and the capabilities of the country,

by this sudden hubbub, which put an end at once to Halcro's poetry, and

to his no less formidable prose. It may be easily imagined, that he took

very little interest in the sport which was so suddenly substituted for

his lucubrations, and he would not even have deigned to have looked upon

the active scene which was about to take place, had he not been

stimulated thereunto by the exhortations of Mistress Baby. "Pit yoursell

forward, man," said that provident person, "pit yoursell forward--wha

kens whare a blessing may light?--they say that a' men share and share

equals-aquals in the creature's ulzie, and a pint o't wad be worth

siller, to light the cruise in the lang dark nights that they speak of.

Pit yoursell forward, man--there's a graip to ye--faint heart never wan

fair lady--wha kens but what, when it's fresh, it may eat weel eneugh,

and spare butter?"

What zeal was added to Triptolemus's motions, by the prospect of eating

fresh train-oil, instead of butter, we know not; but, as better might

not be, he brandished the rural implement (a stable-fork) with which he

was armed, and went down to wage battle with the whale.

The situation in which the enemy's ill fate had placed him, was

particularly favourable to the enterprise of the islanders. A tide of

unusual height had carried the animal over a large bar of sand, into the

voe or creek in which he was now lying. So soon as he found the water

ebbing, he became sensible of his danger, and had made desperate efforts

to get over the shallow water, where the waves broke on the bar; but

hitherto he had rather injured than mended his condition, having got

himself partly aground, and lying therefore particularly exposed to the

meditated attack. At this moment the enemy came down upon him. The front

ranks consisted of the young and hardy, armed in the miscellaneous

manner we have described; while, to witness and animate their efforts,

the young women, and the elderly persons of both sexes, took their place

among the rocks, which overhung the scene of action.

As the boats had to double a little headland, ere they opened the mouth

of the voe, those who came by land to the shores of the inlet, had time

to make the necessary reconnoissances upon the force and situation of

the enemy, on whom they were about to commence a simultaneous attack by

land and sea.

This duty, the stout-hearted and experienced general, for so the Udaller

might be termed, would intrust to no eyes but his own; and, indeed, his

external appearance, and his sage conduct, rendered him alike qualified

for the command which he enjoyed. His gold-laced hat was exchanged for a

bearskin cap, his suit of blue broadcloth, with its scarlet lining, and

loops, and frogs of bullion, had given place to a red flannel jacket,

with buttons of black horn, over which he wore a seal-skin shirt

curiously seamed and plaited on the bosom, such as are used by the

Esquimaux, and sometimes by the Greenland whale-fishers. Sea-boots of a

formidable size completed his dress, and in his hand he held a large

whaling-knife, which he brandished, as if impatient to employ it in the

operation of _flinching_ the huge animal which lay before them,--that

is, the act of separating its flesh from its bones. Upon closer

examination, however, he was obliged to confess, that the sport to which

he had conducted his friends, however much it corresponded with the

magnificent scale of his hospitality, was likely to be attended with its

own peculiar dangers and difficulties.

The animal, upwards of sixty feet in length, was lying perfectly still,

in a deep part of the voe into which it had weltered, and where it

seemed to await the return of tide, of which it was probably assured by

instinct. A council of experienced harpooners was instantly called, and

it was agreed that an effort should be made to noose the tail of this

torpid leviathan, by casting a cable around it, to be made fast by

anchors to the shore, and thus to secure against his escape, in case the

tide should make before they were able to dispatch him. Three boats were

destined to this delicate piece of service, one of which the Udaller

himself proposed to command, while Cleveland and Mertoun were to direct

the two others. This being decided, they sat down on the strand, waiting

with impatience until the naval part of the force should arrive in the

voe. It was during this interval, that Triptolemus Yellowley, after

measuring with his eyes the extraordinary size of the whale, observed,

that in his poor mind, "A wain with six owsen, or with sixty owsen

either, if they were the owsen of the country, could not drag siccan a

huge creature from the water, where it was now lying, to the sea-beach."

Trifling as this remark may seem to the reader, it was connected with a

subject which always fired the blood of the old Udaller, who, glancing

upon Triptolemus a quick and stern look, asked him what the devil it

signified, supposing a hundred oxen could not drag the whale upon the

beach? Mr. Yellowley, though not much liking the tone with which the

question was put, felt that his dignity and his profit compelled him to

answer as follows:--"Nay, sir--you know yoursell, Master Magnus Troil,

and every one knows that knows any thing, that whales of siccan size as

may not be masterfully dragged on shore by the instrumentality of one

wain with six owsen, are the right and property of the Admiral, who is

at this time the same noble lord who is, moreover, Chamberlain of these

isles."

"And I tell you, Mr. Triptolemus Yellowley," said the Udaller, "as I

would tell your master if he were here, that every man who risks his

life to bring that fish ashore, shall have an equal share and partition,

according to our ancient and loveable Norse custom and wont; nay, if

there is so much as a woman looking on, that will but touch the cable,

she will be partner with us; ay, and more than all that, if she will but

say there is a reason for it, we will assign a portion to the babe that

is unborn."(_n_)

The strict principle of equity, which dictated this last arrangement,

occasioned laughter among the men, and some slight confusion among the

women. The factor, however, thought it shame to be so easily daunted.

"_Suum cuique tribuito_," said he; "I will stand for my lord's right and

my own."

"Will you?" replied Magnus; "then, by the Martyr's bones, you shall have

no law of partition but that of God and Saint Olave, which we had before

either factor, or treasurer, or chamberlain were heard of!--All shall

share that lend a hand, and never a one else. So you, Master Factor,

shall be busy as well as other folk, and think yourself lucky to share

like other folk. Jump into that boat," (for the boats had by this time

pulled round the headland,) "and you, my lads, make way for the factor

in the stern-sheets--he shall be the first man this blessed day that

shall strike the fish."

The loud authoritative voice, and the habit of absolute command inferred

in the Udaller's whole manner, together with the conscious want of

favourers and backers amongst the rest of the company, rendered it

difficult for Triptolemus to evade compliance, although he was thus

about to be placed in a situation equally novel and perilous. He was

still, however, hesitating, and attempting an explanation, with a voice

in which anger was qualified by fear, and both thinly disguised under an

attempt to be jocular, and to represent the whole as a jest, when he

heard the voice of Baby maundering in his ear,--"Wad he lose his share

of the ulzie, and the lang Zetland winter coming on, when the lightest

day in December is not so clear as a moonless night in the Mearns?"

This domestic instigation, in addition to those of fear of the Udaller,

and shame to seem less courageous than others, so inflamed the

agriculturist's spirits, that he shook his _graip_ aloft, and entered

the boat with the air of Neptune himself, carrying on high his trident.

The three boats destined for this perilous service, now approached the

dark mass, which lay like an islet in the deepest part of the voe, and

suffered them to approach without showing any sign of animation.

Silently, and with such precaution as the extreme delicacy of the

operation required, the intrepid adventurers, after the failure of their

first attempt, and the expenditure of considerable time, succeeded in

casting a cable around the body of the torpid monster, and in carrying

the ends of it ashore, when an hundred hands were instantly employed in

securing them. But ere this was accomplished, the tide began to make

fast, and the Udaller informed his assistants, that either the fish must

be killed, or at least greatly wounded, ere the depth of water on the

bar was sufficient to float him; or that he was not unlikely to escape

from their joint prowess.

"Wherefore," said he, "we must set to work, and the factor shall have

the honour to make the first throw."

The valiant Triptolemus caught the word; and it is necessary to say that

the patience of the whale, in suffering himself to be noosed without

resistance, had abated his terrors, and very much lowered the creature

in his opinion. He protested the fish had no more wit, and scarcely more

activity, than a black snail; and, influenced by this undue contempt of

the adversary, he waited neither for a further signal, nor a better

weapon, nor a more suitable position, but, rising in his energy, hurled

his graip with all his force against the unfortunate monster. The boats

had not yet retreated from him to the distance necessary to ensure

safety, when this injudicious commencement of the war took place.

Magnus Troil, who had only jested with the factor, and had reserved the

launching the first spear against the whale to some much more skilful

hand, had just time to exclaim, "Mind yourselves, lads, or we are all

swamped!" when the monster, roused at once from inactivity by the blow

of the factor's missile, blew, with a noise resembling the explosion of

a steam-engine, a huge shower of water into the air, and at the same

time began to lash the waves with his tail in every direction. The boat

in which Magnus presided received the shower of brine which the animal

spouted aloft; and the adventurous Triptolemus, who had a full share of

the immersion, was so much astonished and terrified by the consequences

of his own valorous deed, that he tumbled backwards amongst the feet of

the people, who, too busy to attend to him, were actively engaged in

getting the boat into shoal water, out of the whale's reach. Here he lay

for some minutes, trampled on by the feet of the boatmen, until they lay

on their oars to bale, when the Udaller ordered them to pull to shore,

and land this spare hand, who had commenced the fishing so

inauspiciously.

While this was doing, the other boats had also pulled off to safer

distance, and now, from these as well as from the shore, the unfortunate

native of the deep was overwhelmed by all kinds of missiles,--harpoons

and spears flew against him on all sides--guns were fired, and each

various means of annoyance plied which could excite him to exhaust his

strength in useless rage. When the animal found that he was locked in by

shallows on all sides, and became sensible, at the same time, of the

strain of the cable on his body, the convulsive efforts which he made to

escape, accompanied with sounds resembling deep and loud groans, would

have moved the compassion of all but a practised whale-fisher. The

repeated showers which he spouted into the air began now to be mingled

with blood, and the waves which surrounded him assumed the same crimson

appearance. Meantime the attempts of the assailants were redoubled; but

Mordaunt Mertoun and Cleveland, in particular, exerted themselves to the

uttermost, contending who should display most courage in approaching the

monster, so tremendous in its agonies, and should inflict the most deep

and deadly wounds upon its huge bulk.

The contest seemed at last pretty well over; for although the animal

continued from time to time to make frantic exertions for liberty, yet

its strength appeared so much exhausted, that, even with the assistance

of the tide, which had now risen considerably, it was thought it could

scarcely extricate itself.

Magnus gave the signal to venture nearer to the whale, calling out at

the same time, "Close in, lads, he is not half so mad now--The Factor

may look for a winter's oil for the two lamps at Harfra--Pull close in,

lads."

Ere his orders could be obeyed, the other two boats had anticipated his

purpose; and Mordaunt Mertoun, eager to distinguish himself above

Cleveland, had, with the whole strength he possessed, plunged a

half-pike into the body of the animal. But the leviathan, like a nation

whose resources appear totally exhausted by previous losses and

calamities, collected his whole remaining force for an effort, which

proved at once desperate and successful. The wound, last received, had

probably reached through his external defences of blubber, and attained

some very sensitive part of the system; for he roared aloud, as he sent

to the sky a mingled sheet of brine and blood, and snapping the strong

cable like a twig, overset Mertoun's boat with a blow of his tail, shot

himself, by a mighty effort, over the bar, upon which the tide had now

risen considerably, and made out to sea, carrying with him a whole grove

of the implements which had been planted in his body, and leaving behind

him, on the waters, a dark red trace of his course.

"There goes to sea your cruise of oil, Master Yellowley," said Magnus,

"and you must consume mutton suet, or go to bed in the dark."

"_Operam et oleum perdidi_," muttered Triptolemus; "but if they catch me

whale-fishing again, I will consent that the fish shall swallow me as he

did Jonah."

"But where is Mordaunt Mertoun all this while?" exclaimed Claud Halcro;

and it was instantly perceived that the youth, who had been stunned when

his boat was stove, was unable to swim to shore as the other sailors

did, and now floated senseless upon the waves.

We have noticed the strange and inhuman prejudice, which rendered the

Zetlanders of that period unwilling to assist those whom they saw in the

act of drowning, though that is the calamity to which the islanders are

most frequently exposed. Three men, however, soared above this

superstition. The first was Claud Halcro, who threw himself from a small

rock headlong into the waves, forgetting, as he himself afterwards

stated, that he could not swim, and, if possessed of the harp of Arion,

had no dolphins in attendance. The first plunge which the poet made in

deep water, reminding him of these deficiencies, he was fain to cling to

the rock from which he had dived, and was at length glad to regain the

shore, at the expense of a ducking.

Magnus Troil, whose honest heart forgot his late coolness towards

Mordaunt, when he saw the youth's danger, would instantly have brought

him more effectual aid, but Eric Scambester held him fast.

"Hout, sir--hout," exclaimed that faithful attendant--"Captain Cleveland

has a grip of Mr. Mordaunt--just let the twa strangers help ilk other,

and stand by the upshot. The light of the country is not to be quenched

for the like of them. Bide still, sir, I say--Bredness Voe is not a bowl

of punch, that a man can be fished out of like a toast with a long

spoon."

This sage remonstrance would have been altogether lost upon Magnus, had

he not observed that Cleveland had in fact jumped out of the boat, and

swum to Mertoun's assistance, and was keeping him afloat till the boat

came to the aid of both. As soon as the immediate danger which called so

loudly for assistance was thus ended, the honest Udaller's desire to

render aid terminated also; and recollecting the cause of offence which

he had, or thought he had, against Mordaunt Mertoun, he shook off his

butler's hold, and turning round scornfully from the beach, called Eric

an old fool for supposing that he cared whether the young fellow sank or

swam.

Still, however, amid his assumed indifference, Magnus could not help

peeping over the heads of the circle, which, surrounding Mordaunt as

soon as he was brought on shore, were charitably employed in

endeavouring to recall him to life; and he was not able to attain the

appearance of absolute unconcern, until the young man sat up on the

beach, and showed plainly that the accident had been attended with no

material consequences. It was then first that, cursing the assistants

for not giving the lad a glass of brandy, he walked sullenly away, as

if totally unconcerned in his fate.

The women, always accurate in observing the telltale emotions of each

other, failed not to remark, that when the sisters of Burgh-Westra saw

Mordaunt immersed in the waves, Minna grew as pale as death, while

Brenda uttered successive shrieks of terror. But though there were some

nods, winks, and hints that auld acquaintance were not easily forgot, it

was, on the whole, candidly admitted, that less than such marks of

interest could scarce have been expected, when they saw the companion of

their early youth in the act of perishing before their eyes.

Whatever interest Mordaunt's condition excited while it seemed perilous,

began to abate as he recovered himself; and when his senses were fully

restored, only Claud Halcro, with two or three others, were standing by

him. About ten paces off stood Cleveland--his hair and clothes dropping

water, and his features wearing so peculiar an expression, as

immediately to arrest the attention of Mordaunt. There was a suppressed

smile on his cheek, and a look of pride in his eye, that implied

liberation from a painful restraint, and something resembling gratified

scorn. Claud Halcro hastened to intimate to Mordaunt, that he owed his

life to Cleveland; and the youth, rising from the ground, and losing all

other feelings in those of gratitude, stepped forward with his hand

stretched out, to offer his warmest thanks to his preserver. But he

stopped short in surprise, as Cleveland, retreating a pace or two,

folded his arms on his breast, and declined to accept his proffered

hand. He drew back in turn, and gazed with astonishment at the

ungracious manner, and almost insulting look, with which Cleveland, who

had formerly rather expressed a frank cordiality, or at least openness

of bearing, now, after having thus rendered him a most important

service, chose to receive his thanks.

"It is enough," said Cleveland, observing his surprise, "and it is

unnecessary to say more about it. I have paid back my debt, and we are

now equal."

"You are more than equal with me, Captain Cleveland," answered Mertoun,

"because you endangered your life to do for me what I did for you

without the slightest risk;--besides," he added, trying to give the

discourse a more pleasant turn, "I have your rifle-gun to boot."

"Cowards only count danger for any point of the game," said Cleveland.

"Danger has been my consort for life, and sailed with me on a thousand

worse voyages;--and for rifles, I have enough of my own, and you may

see, when you will, which can use them best."

There was something in the tone with which this was said, that struck

Mordaunt strongly; it was miching malicho, as Hamlet says, and meant

mischief. Cleveland saw his surprise, came close up to him, and spoke in

a low tone of voice:--"Hark ye, my young brother. There is a custom

among us gentlemen of fortune, that when we follow the same chase, and

take the wind out of each other's sails, we think sixty yards of the

sea-beach, and a brace of rifles, are no bad way of making our odds

even."

"I do not understand you, Captain Cleveland," said Mordaunt.

"I do not suppose you do,--I did not suppose you would," said the

Captain; and, turning on his heel, with a smile that resembled a sneer,

Mordaunt saw him mingle with the guests, and very soon beheld him at

the side of Minna, who was talking to him with animated features, that

seemed to thank him for his gallant and generous conduct.

"If it were not for Brenda," thought Mordaunt, "I almost wish he had

left me in the voe, for no one seems to care whether I am alive or

dead.--Two rifles and sixty yards of sea-beach--is that what he points

at?--It may come,--but not on the day he has saved my life with risk of

his own."

While he was thus musing, Eric Scambester was whispering to Halcro, "If

these two lads do not do each other a mischief, there is no faith in

freits. Master Mordaunt saves Cleveland,--well.--Cleveland, in requital,

has turned all the sunshine of Burgh-Westra to his own side of the

house; and think what it is to lose favour in such a house as this,

where the punch-kettle is never allowed to cool! Well, now that

Cleveland in his turn has been such a fool as to fish Mordaunt out of

the voe, see if he does not give him sour sillocks for stock-fish."

"Pshaw, pshaw!" replied the poet, "that is all old women's fancies, my

friend Eric; for what says glorious Dryden--sainted John,--

'The yellow gall that in your bosom floats,

Engenders all these melancholy thoughts.'"

"Saint John, or Saint James either, may be mistaken in the matter," said

Eric; "for I think neither of them lived in Zetland. I only say, that if

there is faith in old saws, these two lads will do each other a

mischief; and if they do, I trust it will light on Mordaunt Mertoun."

"And why, Eric Scambester," said Halcro, hastily and angrily, "should

you wish ill to that poor young man, that is worth fifty of the other?"

"Let every one roose the ford as he finds it," replied Eric; "Master

Mordaunt is all for wan water, like his old dog-fish of a father; now

Captain Cleveland, d'ye see, takes his glass, like an honest fellow and

a gentleman."

"Rightly reasoned, and in thine own division," said Halcro; and breaking

off their conversation, took his way back to Burgh-Westra, to which the

guests of Magnus were now returning, discussing as they went, with much

animation, the various incidents of their attack upon the whale, and not

a little scandalized that it should have baffled all their exertions.

"I hope Captain Donderdrecht of the Eintracht of Rotterdam will never

hear of it," said Magnus; "he would swear, donner and blitzen, we were

only fit to fish flounders."[46]

FOOTNOTES:

[46] The contest about the whale will remind the poetical reader of

Waller's Battle of the Summer Islands.

CHAPTER XVIII.

And helter-skelter have I rode to thee,

And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,

And golden times, and happy news of price.

_Ancient Pistol._

Fortune, who seems at times to bear a conscience, owed the hospitable

Udaller some amends, and accordingly repaid to Burgh-Westra the

disappointment occasioned by the unsuccessful whale-fishing, by sending

thither, on the evening of the day in which that incident happened, no

less a person than the jagger, or travelling merchant, as he styled

himself, Bryce Snailsfoot, who arrived in great pomp, himself on one

pony, and his pack of goods, swelled to nearly double its usual size,

forming the burden of another, which was led by a bare-headed

bare-legged boy.

As Bryce announced himself the bearer of important news, he was

introduced to the dining apartment, where (for that primitive age was no

respecter of persons) he was permitted to sit down at a side-table, and

amply supplied with provisions and good liquor; while the attentive

hospitality of Magnus permitted no questions to be put to him, until,

his hunger and thirst appeased, he announced, with the sense of

importance attached to distant travels, that he had just yesterday

arrived at Lerwick from Kirkwall, the capital of Orkney, and would have

been here yesterday, but it blew hard off the Fitful-head.

"We had no wind here," said Magnus.

"There is somebody has not been sleeping, then," said the pedlar, "and

her name begins with N; but Heaven is above all."

"But the news from Orkney, Bryce, instead of croaking about a capful of

wind?"

"Such news," replied Bryce, "as has not been heard this thirty

years--not since Cromwell's time."

"There is not another Revolution, is there?" said Halcro; "King James

has not come back, as blithe as King Charlie did, has he?"

"It's news," replied the pedlar, "that are worth twenty kings, and

kingdoms to boot of them; for what good did the evolutions ever do us?

and I dare say we have seen a dozen, great and sma'."

"Are any Indiamen come north about?" said Magnus Troil.

"Ye are nearer the mark, Fowd," said the jagger; "but it is nae

Indiaman, but a gallant armed vessel, chokeful of merchandise, that they

part with so easy that a decent man like my sell can afford to give the

country the best pennyworths you ever saw; and that you will say, when I

open that pack, for I count to carry it back another sort lighter than

when I brought it here."

"Ay, ay, Bryce," said the Udaller, "you must have had good bargains if

you sell cheap; but what ship was it?"

"Cannot justly say--I spoke to nobody but the captain, who was a

discreet man; but she had been down on the Spanish Main, for she has

silks and satins, and tobacco, I warrant you, and wine, and no lack of

sugar, and bonny-wallies baith of silver and gowd, and a bonnie

dredging of gold dust into the bargain."

"What like was she?" said Cleveland, who seemed to give much attention.

"A stout ship," said the itinerant merchant, "schooner-rigged, sails

like a dolphin, they say, carries twelve guns, and is pierced for

twenty."

"Did you hear the captain's name?" said Cleveland, speaking rather lower

than his usual tone.

"I just ca'd him the Captain," replied Bryce Snailsfoot; "for I make it

a rule never to ask questions of them I deal with in the way of trade;

for there is many an honest captain, begging your pardon, Captain

Cleveland, that does not care to have his name tacked to his title; and

as lang as we ken what bargains we are making, what signifies it wha we

are making them wi', ye ken?"

"Bryce Snailsfoot is a cautious man," said the Udaller, laughing; "he

knows a fool may ask more questions than a wise man cares to answer."

"I have dealt with the fair traders in my day," replied Snailsfoot, "and

I ken nae use in blurting braid out with a man's name at every moment;

but I will uphold this gentleman to be a gallant commander--ay, and a

kind one too; for every one of his crew is as brave in apparel as

himself nearly--the very foremast-men have their silken scarfs; I have

seen many a lady wear a warse, and think hersell nae sma' drink--and for

siller buttons, and buckles, and the lave of sic vanities, there is nae

end of them."

"Idiots!" muttered Cleveland between his teeth; and then added, "I

suppose they are often ashore, to show all their bravery to the lasses

of Kirkwall?"

"Ne'er a bit of that are they. The Captain will scarce let them stir

ashore without the boatswain go in the boat--as rough a tarpaulin as

ever swabb'd a deck--and you may as weel catch a cat without her claws,

as him without his cutlass and his double brace of pistols about him;

every man stands as much in awe of him as of the commander himsell."

"That must be Hawkins, or the devil," said Cleveland.

"Aweel, Captain," replied the jagger, "be he the tane or the tither, or

a wee bit o' baith, mind it is you that give him these names, and not

I."

"Why, Captain Cleveland," said the Udaller, "this may prove the very

consort you spoke of."

"They must have had some good luck, then," said Cleveland, "to put them

in better plight than when I left them.--Did they speak of having lost

their consort, pedlar?"

"In troth did they," said Bryce; "that is, they said something about a

partner that had gone down to Davie Jones in these seas."

"And did you tell them what you knew of her?" said the Udaller.

"And wha the deevil wad hae been the fule, then," said the pedlar, "that

I suld say sae? When they kend what came of the ship, the next question

wad have been about the cargo,--and ye wad not have had me bring down an

armed vessel on the coast, to harrie the poor folk about a wheen rags of

duds that the sea flung upon their shores?"

"Besides, what might have been found in your own pack, you scoundrel!"

said Magnus Troil; an observation which produced a loud laugh. The

Udaller could not help joining in the hilarity which applauded his jest;

but instantly composing his countenance, he said, in an unusually grave

tone, "You may laugh, my friends; but this is a matter which brings both

a curse and a shame on the country; and till we learn to regard the

rights of them that suffer by the winds and waves, we shall deserve to

be oppressed and hag-ridden, as we have been and are, by the superior

strength of the strangers who rule us."

The company hung their heads at the rebuke of Magnus Troil. Perhaps

some, even of the better class, might be conscience-struck on their own

account; and all of them were sensible that the appetite for plunder, on

the part of the tenants and inferiors, was not at all times restrained

with sufficient strictness. But Cleveland made answer gaily, "If these

honest fellows be my comrades, I will answer for them that they will

never trouble the country about a parcel of chests, hammocks, and such

trumpery, that the Roost may have washed ashore out of my poor sloop.

What signifies to them whether the trash went to Bryce Snailsfoot, or to

the bottom, or to the devil? So unbuckle thy pack, Bryce, and show the

ladies thy cargo, and perhaps we may see something that will please

them."

"It cannot be his consort," said Brenda, in a whisper to her sister; "he

would have shown more joy at her appearance."

"It must be the vessel," answered Minna; "I saw his eye glisten at the

thought of being again united to the partner of his dangers."

"Perhaps it glistened," said her sister, still apart, "at the thought of

leaving Zetland; it is difficult to guess the thought of the heart from

the glance of the eye."

"Judge not, at least, unkindly of a friend's thought," said Minna; "and

then, Brenda, if you are mistaken, the fault rests not with you."

During this dialogue, Bryce Snailsfoot was busied in uncoiling the

carefully arranged cordage of his pack, which amounted to six good yards

of dressed seal-skin, curiously complicated and secured by all manner of

knots and buckles. He was considerably interrupted in the task by the

Udaller and others, who pressed him with questions respecting the

stranger vessel.

"Were the officers often ashore? and how were they received by the

people of Kirkwall?" said Magnus Troil.

"Excellently well," answered Bryce Snailsfoot; "and the Captain and one

or two of his men had been at some of the vanities and dances which went

forward in the town; but there had been some word about customs, or

king's duties, or the like, and some of the higher folk, that took upon

them as magistrates, or the like, had had words with the Captain, and he

refused to satisfy them; and then it is like he was more coldly looked

on, and he spoke of carrying the ship round to Stromness, or the

Langhope, for she lay under the guns of the battery at Kirkwall. But he"

(Bryce) "thought she wad bide at Kirkwall till the summer-fair was over,

for all that."

"The Orkney gentry," said Magnus Troil, "are always in a hurry to draw

the Scotch collar tighter round their own necks. Is it not enough that

we must pay _scat_ and _wattle,_ which were all the public dues under

our old Norse government; but must they come over us with king's dues

and customs besides? It is the part of an honest man to resist these

things. I have done so all my life, and will do so to the end of it."

There was a loud jubilee and shout of applause among the guests, who

were (some of them at least) better pleased with Magnus Troil's

latitudinarian principles with respect to the public revenue, (which

were extremely natural to those living in so secluded a situation, and

subjected to many additional exactions,) than they had been with the

rigour of his judgment on the subject of wrecked goods. But Minna's

inexperienced feelings carried her farther than her father, while she

whispered to Brenda, not unheard by Cleveland, that the tame spirit of

the Orcadians had missed every chance which late incidents had given

them to emancipate these islands from the Scottish yoke.

"Why," she said, "should we not, under so many changes as late times

have introduced, have seized the opportunity to shake off an allegiance

which is not justly due from us, and to return to the protection of

Denmark, our parent country? Why should we yet hesitate to do this, but

that the gentry of Orkney have mixed families and friendship so much

with our invaders, that they have become dead to the throb of the heroic

Norse blood, which they derived from their ancestors?"

The latter part of this patriotic speech happened to reach the

astonished ears of our friend Triptolemus, who, having a sincere

devotion for the Protestant succession, and the Revolution as

established, was surprised into the ejaculation, "As the old cock crows

the young cock learns--hen I should say, mistress, and I crave your

pardon if I say any thing amiss in either gender. But it is a happy

country where the father declares against the king's customs, and the

daughter against the king's crown! and, in my judgment, it can end in

naething but trees and tows."

"Trees are scarce among us," said Magnus; "and for ropes, we need them

for our rigging, and cannot spare them to be shirt-collars."

"And whoever," said the Captain, "takes umbrage at what this young lady

says, had better keep his ears and tongue for a safer employment than

such an adventure."

"Ay, ay," said Triptolemus, "it helps the matter much to speak truths,

whilk are as unwelcome to a proud stomach as wet clover to a cow's, in a

land where lads are ready to draw the whittle if a lassie but looks

awry. But what manners are to be expected in a country where folk call a

pleugh-sock a markal?"

"Hark ye, Master Yellowley," said the Captain, smiling, "I hope my

manners are not among those abuses which you come hither to reform; any

experiment on them may be dangerous."

"As well as difficult," said Triptolemus, dryly; "but fear nothing,

Captain Cleveland, from my remonstrances. My labours regard the men and

things of the earth, and not the men and things of the sea,--you are not

of my element."

"Let us be friends, then, old clod-compeller," said the Captain.

"Clod-compeller!" said the agriculturist, bethinking himself of the

lore of his earlier days; "Clod-compeller _pro_ cloud-compeller,

[Greek: Nephelêgeréta Zeus](_o_)--_Græcum est_,--in which voyage came

you by that phrase?"

"I have travelled books as well as seas in my day," said the Captain;

"but my last voyages have been of a sort to make me forget my early

cruizes through classic knowledge.--But come here, Bryce,--hast cast off

the lashing?--Come all hands, and let us see if he has aught in his

cargo that is worth looking upon."

With a proud, and, at the same time, a wily smile, did the crafty pedlar

display a collection of wares far superior to those which usually filled

his packages, and, in particular, some stuffs and embroideries, of such

beauty and curiosity, fringed, flowered, and worked, with such art and

magnificence, upon foreign and arabesque patterns, that the sight might

have dazzled a far more brilliant company than the simple race of Thule.

All beheld and admired, while Mistress Baby Yellowley, holding up her

hands, protested it was a sin even to look upon such extravagance, and

worse than murder so much as to ask the price of them.

Others, however, were more courageous; and the prices demanded by the

merchant, if they were not, as he himself declared, something just more

than nothing--short only of an absolute free gift of his wares, were

nevertheless so moderate, as to show that he himself must have made an

easy acquisition of the goods, judging by the rate at which he offered

to part with them. Accordingly, the cheapness of the articles created a

rapid sale; for in Zetland, as well as elsewhere, wise folk buy more

from the prudential desire to secure a good bargain, than from any real

occasion for the purchase. The Lady Glowrowrum bought seven petticoats

and twelve stomachers on this sole principle, and other matrons present

rivalled her in this sagacious species of economy. The Udaller was also

a considerable purchaser; but the principal customer for whatever could

please the eye of beauty, was the gallant Captain Cleveland, who

rummaged the jagger's stores in selecting presents for the ladies of the

party, in which Minna and Brenda Troil were especially remembered.

"I fear," said Magnus Troil, "that the young women are to consider these

pretty presents as keepsakes, and that all this liberality is only a

sure sign we are soon to lose you?"

This question seemed to embarrass him to whom it was put.

"I scarce know," he said with some hesitation, "whether this vessel is

my consort or no--I must take a trip to Kirkwall to make sure of that

matter, and then I hope to return to Dunrossness to bid you all

farewell."

"In that case," said the Udaller, after a moment's pause, "I think I may

carry you thither. I should be at the Kirkwall fair, to settle with the

merchants I have consigned my fish to, and I have often promised Minna

and Brenda that they should see the fair. Perhaps also your consort, or

these strangers, whoever they be, may have some merchandise that will

suit me. I love to see my rigging-loft well stocked with goods, almost

as much as to see it full of dancers. We will go to Orkney in my own

brig, and I can offer you a hammock, if you will."

The offer seemed so acceptable to Cleveland, that, after pouring himself

forth in thanks, he seemed determined to mark his joy by exhausting

Bryce Snailsfoot's treasures in liberality to the company. The contents

of a purse of gold were transferred to the jagger, with a facility and

indifference on the part of its former owner which argued either the

greatest profusion, or consciousness of superior and inexhaustible

wealth; so that Baby whispered to her brother, that, "if he could afford

to fling away money at this rate, the lad had made a better voyage in a

broken ship, than all the skippers of Dundee had made in their haill

anes for a twelvemonth past."

But the angry feeling in which she made this remark was much mollified,

when Cleveland, whose object it seemed that evening to be, to buy golden

opinions of all sorts of men, approached her with a garment somewhat

resembling in shape the Scottish plaid, but woven of a sort of wool so

soft, that it felt to the touch as if it were composed of eider-down.

"This," he said, "was a part of a Spanish lady's dress, called a

_mantilla_; as it would exactly fit the size of Mrs. Baby Yellowley, and

was very well suited for the fogs of the climate of Zetland, he

entreated her to wear it for his sake." The lady, with as much

condescending sweetness as her countenance was able to express, not only

consented to receive this mark of gallantry, but permitted the donor to

arrange the mantilla upon her projecting and bony shoulder-blades,

where, said Claud Halcro, "it hung, for all the world, as if it had been

stretched betwixt a couple of cloak-pins."

While the Captain was performing this piece of courtesy, much to the

entertainment of the company, which, it may be presumed, was his

principal object from the beginning, Mordaunt Mertoun made purchase of a

small golden chaplet, with the private intention of presenting it to

Brenda, when he should find an opportunity. The price was fixed, and the

article laid aside. Claud Halcro also showed some desire of possessing a

silver box of antique shape, for depositing tobacco, which he was in the

habit of using in considerable quantity. But the bard seldom had current

coin in promptitude, and, indeed, in his wandering way of life, had

little occasion for any; and Bryce, on the other hand, his having been

hitherto a ready-money trade, protested, that his very moderate profits

upon such rare and choice articles, would not allow of his affording

credit to the purchaser. Mordaunt gathered the import of this

conversation from the mode in which they whispered together, while the

bard seemed to advance a wishful finger towards the box in question, and

the cautious pedlar detained it with the weight of his whole hand, as if

he had been afraid it would literally make itself wings, and fly into

Claud Halcro's pocket. Mordaunt Mertoun at this moment, desirous to

gratify an old acquaintance, laid the price of the box on the table, and

said he would not permit Master Halcro to purchase that box, as he had

settled in his own mind to make him a present of it.

"I cannot think of robbing you, my dear young friend," said the poet;

"but the truth is, that that same box does remind me strangely of

glorious John's, out of which I had the honour to take a pinch at the

Wits' Coffeehouse, for which I think more highly of my right-hand finger

and thumb than any other part of my body; only you must allow me to pay

you back the price when my Urkaster stock-fish come to market."

"Settle that as you like betwixt you," said the jagger, taking up

Mordaunt's money; "the box is bought and sold."

"And how dare you sell over again," said Captain Cleveland, suddenly

interfering, "what you already have sold to me?"

All were surprised at this interjection, which was hastily made, as

Cleveland, having turned from Mistress Baby, had become suddenly, and,

as it seemed, not without emotion, aware what articles Bryce Snailsfoot

was now disposing of. To this short and fierce question, the jagger,

afraid to contradict a customer of his description, answered only by

stammering, that the "Lord knew he meant nae offence."

"How, sir! no offence!" said the seaman, "and dispose of my property?"

extending his hand at the same time to the box and chaplet; "restore the

young gentleman's money, and learn to keep your course on the meridian

of honesty."

The jagger, confused and reluctant, pulled out his leathern pouch to

repay to Mordaunt the money he had just deposited in it; but the youth

was not to be so satisfied.

"The articles," he said, "were bought and sold--these were your own

words, Bryce Snailsfoot, in Master Halcro's hearing; and I will suffer

neither you nor any other to deprive me of my property."

"_Your_ property, young man?" said Cleveland; "It is mine,--I spoke to

Bryce respecting them an instant before I turned from the table."

"I--I--I had not just heard distinctly," said Bryce, evidently unwilling

to offend either party.

"Come, come," said the Udaller, "we will have no quarrelling about

baubles; we shall be summoned presently to the rigging-loft,"--so he

used to call the apartment used as a ball-room,--"and we must all go in

good-humour. The things shall remain with Bryce for to-night, and

to-morrow I will myself settle whom they shall belong to."

The laws of the Udaller in his own house were absolute as those of the

Medes. The two young men, regarding each other with looks of sullen

displeasure, drew off in different directions.

It is seldom that the second day of a prolonged festival equals the

first. The spirits, as well as the limbs, are jaded, and unequal to the

renewed expenditure of animation and exertion; and the dance at

Burgh-Westra was sustained with much less mirth than on the preceding

evening. It was yet an hour from midnight, when even the reluctant

Magnus Troil, after regretting the degeneracy of the times, and wishing

he could transfuse into the modern Hialtlanders some of the vigour which

still animated his own frame, found himself compelled to give the signal

for general retreat.

Just as this took place, Halcro, leading Mordaunt Mertoun a little

aside, said he had a message to him from Captain Cleveland.

"A message!" said Mordaunt, his heart beating somewhat thick as he

spoke--"A challenge, I suppose?"

"A challenge!" repeated Halcro; "who ever heard of a challenge in our

quiet islands? Do you think that I look like a carrier of challenges,

and to you of all men living?--I am none of those fighting fools, as

glorious John calls them; and it was not quite a message I had to

deliver--only thus far--this Captain Cleveland, I find, hath set his

heart upon having these articles you looked at."

"He shall not have them, I swear to you," replied Mordaunt Mertoun.

"Nay, but hear me," said Halcro; "it seems that, by the marks or arms

that are upon them, he knows that they were formerly his property. Now,

were you to give me the box, as you promised, I fairly tell you, I

should give the man back his own."

"And Brenda might do the like," thought Mordaunt to himself, and

instantly replied aloud, "I have thought better of it, my friend.

Captain Cleveland shall have the toys he sets such store by, but it is

on one sole condition."

"Nay, you will spoil all with your conditions," said Halcro; "for, as

glorious John says, conditions are but"----

"Hear me, I say, with patience.--My condition is, that he keeps the toys

in exchange for the rifle-gun I accepted from him, which will leave no

obligation between us on either side."

"I see where you would be--this is Sebastian and Dorax all over. Well,

you may let the jagger know he is to deliver the things to Cleveland--I

think he is mad to have them--and I will let Cleveland know the

conditions annexed, otherwise honest Bryce might come by two payments

instead of one; and I believe his conscience would not choke upon it."

With these words, Halcro went to seek out Cleveland, while Mordaunt,

observing Snailsfoot, who, as a sort of privileged person, had thrust

himself into the crowd at the bottom of the dancing-room, went up to

him, and gave him directions to deliver the disputed articles to

Cleveland as soon as he had an opportunity.

"Ye are in the right, Maister Mordaunt," said the jagger; "ye are a

prudent and a sensible lad--a calm answer turneth away wrath--and

mysell, I sall be willing to please you in ony trifling matters in my

sma' way; for, between the Udaller of Burgh-Westra and Captain

Cleveland, a man is, as it were, atween the deil and the deep sea; and

it was like that the Udaller, in the end, would have taken your part in

the dispute, for he is a man that loves justice."

"Which apparently you care very little about, Master Snailsfoot," said

Mordaunt, "otherwise there could have been no dispute whatever, the

right being so clearly on my side, if you had pleased to bear witness

according to the dictates of truth."

"Maister Mordaunt," said the jagger, "I must own there was, as it were,

a colouring or shadow of justice on your side; but then, the justice

that I meddle with, is only justice in the way of trade, to have an

ellwand of due length, if it be not something worn out with leaning on

it in my lang and painful journeys, and to buy and sell by just weight

and measure, twenty-four merks to the lispund; but I have nothing to do,

to do justice betwixt man and man, like a Fowd or a Lawright-man at a

lawting lang syne."

"No one asked you to do so, but only to give evidence according to your

conscience," replied Mordaunt, not greatly pleased either with the part

the jagger had acted during the dispute, or the construction which he

seemed to put on his own motives for yielding up the point.

But Bryce Snailsfoot wanted not his answer; "My conscience," he said,

"Maister Mordaunt, is as tender as ony man's in my degree; but she is

something of a timorsome nature, cannot abide angry folk, and can never

speak above her breath, when there is aught of a fray going forward.

Indeed, she hath at all times a small and low voice."

"Which you are not much in the habit of listening to," said Mordaunt.

"There is that on your ain breast that proves the contrary," said Bryce,

resolutely.

"In my breast?" said Mordaunt, somewhat angrily,--"what know I of you?"

"I said _on_ your breast, Maister Mordaunt, and not _in_ it. I am sure

nae eye that looks on that waistcoat upon your own gallant brisket, but

will say, that the merchant who sold such a piece for four dollars had

justice and conscience, and a kind heart to a customer to the boot of a'

that; sae ye shouldna be sae thrawart wi' me for having spared the

breath of my mouth in a fool's quarrel."

"I thrawart!" said Mordaunt; "pooh, you silly man! I have no quarrel

with you."

"I am glad of it," said the travelling merchant; "I will quarrel with no

man, with my will--least of all with an old customer; and if you will

walk by my advice, you will quarrel nane with Captain Cleveland. He is

like one of yon cutters and slashers that have come into Kirkwall, that

think as little of slicing a man, as we do of flinching a whale--it's

their trade to fight, and they live by it; and they have the advantage

of the like of you, that only take it up at your own hand, and in the

way of pastime, when you hae nothing better to do."

The company had now almost all dispersed; and Mordaunt, laughing at the

jagger's caution, bade him good-night, and went to his own place of

repose, which had been assigned to him by Eric Scambester, (who acted

the part of chamberlain as well as butler,) in a small room, or rather

closet, in one of the outhouses, furnished for the occasion with the

hammock of a sailor.

CHAPTER XIX.

I pass like night from land to land,

I have strange power of speech;

So soon as e'er his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me,

To him my tale I teach.

COLERIDGE'S _Rime of the Ancient Mariner_.

The daughters of Magnus Troil shared the same bed, in a chamber which

had been that of their parents before the death of their mother. Magnus,

who suffered grievously under that dispensation of Providence, had

become disgusted with the apartment. The nuptial chamber was abandoned

to the pledges of his bereaved affection, of whom the eldest was at that

period only four years old, or thereabouts; and, having been their

nursery in infancy, continued, though now tricked and adorned according

to the best fashion of the islands, and the taste of the lovely sisters

themselves, to be their sleeping-room, or, in the old Norse dialect,

their bower.

It had been for many years the scene of the most intimate confidence, if

that could be called confidence, where, in truth, there was nothing to

be confided; where neither sister had a secret; and where every thought

that had birth in the bosom of the one, was, without either hesitation

or doubt, confided to the other as spontaneously as it had arisen. But,

since Cleveland abode in the mansion of Burgh-Westra, each of the lovely

sisters had entertained thoughts which are not lightly or easily

communicated, unless she who listens to them has previously assured

herself that the confidence will be kindly received. Minna had noticed

what other and less interested observers had been unable to perceive,

that Cleveland, namely, held a lower rank in Brenda's opinion than in

her own; and Brenda, on her side, thought that Minna had hastily and

unjustly joined in the prejudices which had been excited against

Mordaunt Mertoun in the mind of their father. Each was sensible that she

was no longer the same to her sister; and this conviction was a painful

addition to other painful apprehensions which they supposed they had to

struggle with. Their manner towards each other was, in outward

appearances, and in all the little cares by which affection can be

expressed, even more assiduously kind than before, as if both, conscious

that their internal reserve was a breach of their sisterly union, strove

to atone for it by double assiduity in those external marks of

affection, which, at other times, when there was nothing to hide, might

be omitted without inferring any consequences.

On the night referred to in particular, the sisters felt more especially

the decay of the confidence which used to exist betwixt them. The

proposed voyage to Kirkwall, and that at the time of the fair, when

persons of every degree in these islands repair thither, either for

business or amusement, was likely to be an important incident in lives

usually so simple and uniform as theirs; and, a few months ago, Minna

and Brenda would have been awake half the night, anticipating, in their

talk with each other, all that was likely to happen on so momentous an

occasion. But now the subject was just mentioned, and suffered to drop,

as if the topic was likely to produce a difference betwixt them, or to

call forth a more open display of their several opinions than either was

willing to make to the other.

Yet such was their natural openness and gentleness of disposition, that

each sister imputed to herself the fault that there was aught like

estrangement existing between them; and when, having finished their

devotions, and betaken themselves to their common couch, they folded

each other in their arms, and exchanged a sisterly kiss, and a sisterly

good-night, they seemed mutually to ask pardon, and to exchange

forgiveness, although neither said a word of offence, either offered or

received; and both were soon plunged in that light and yet profound

repose, which is only enjoyed when sleep sinks down on the eyes of youth

and innocence.

On the night to which the story relates, both sisters were visited by

dreams, which, though varied by the moods and habits of the sleepers,

bore yet a strange general resemblance to each other.

Minna dreamed that she was in one of the most lonely recesses of the

beach, called Swartaster, where the incessant operation of the waves,

indenting a calcarious rock, has formed a deep _halier_, which, in the

language of the island, means a subterranean cavern, into which the tide

ebbs and flows. Many of these run to an extraordinary and unascertained

depth under ground, and are the secure retreat of cormorants and seals,

which it is neither easy nor safe to pursue to their extreme recesses.

Amongst these, this halier of Swartaster was accounted peculiarly

inaccessible, and shunned both by fowlers and by seamen, on account of

sharp angles and turnings in the cave itself, as well as the sunken

rocks which rendered it very dangerous for skiffs or boats to advance

far into it, especially if there was the usual swell of an island tide.

From the dark-browed mouth of this cavern, it seemed to Minna, in her

dream, that she beheld a mermaid issue, not in the classical dress of a

Nereid, as in Claud Halcro's mask of the preceding evening, but with

comb and glass in hand, according to popular belief, and lashing the

waves with that long scaly train, which, in the traditions of the

country, forms so frightful a contrast with the fair face, long tresses,

and displayed bosom, of a human and earthly female, of surpassing

beauty. She seemed to beckon to Minna, while her wild notes rang sadly

in her ear, and denounced, in prophetic sounds, calamity and woe.

The vision of Brenda was of a different description, yet equally

melancholy. She sat, as she thought, in her favourite bower, surrounded

by her father and a party of his most beloved friends, amongst whom

Mordaunt Mertoun was not forgotten. She was required to sing; and she

strove to entertain them with a lively ditty, in which she was accounted

eminently successful, and which she sung with such simple, yet natural

humour, as seldom failed to produce shouts of laughter and applause,

while all who could, or who could not sing, were irresistibly compelled

to lend their voices to the chorus. But, on this occasion, it seemed as

if her own voice refused all its usual duty, and as if, while she felt

herself unable to express the words of the well-known air, it assumed,

in her own despite, the deep tones and wild and melancholy notes of

Norna of Fitful-head, for the purpose of chanting some wild Runic rhyme,

resembling those sung by the heathen priests of old, when the victim

(too often human) was bound to the fatal altar of Odin or of Thor.

At length the two sisters at once started from sleep, and, uttering a

low scream of fear, clasped themselves in each other's arms. For their

fancy had not altogether played them false; the sounds, which had

suggested their dreams, were real, and sung within their apartment. They

knew the voice well, indeed, and yet, knowing to whom it belonged, their

surprise and fear were scarce the less, when they saw the well-known

Norna of Fitful-head, seated by the chimney of the apartment, which,

during the summer season, contained an iron lamp well trimmed, and, in

winter, a fire of wood or of turf.

She was wrapped in her long and ample garment of wadmaal, and moved her

body slowly to and fro over the pale flame of the lamp, as she sung

lines to the following purport, in a slow, sad, and almost an unearthly

accent:

"For leagues along the watery way,

Through gulf and stream my course has been;

The billows know my Runic lay,

And smooth their crests to silent green.

"The billows know my Runic lay,--

The gulf grows smooth, the stream is still;

But human hearts, more wild than they,

Know but the rule of wayward will.

"One hour is mine, in all the year,

To tell my woes,--and one alone;

When gleams this magic lamp, 'tis here,--

When dies the mystic light, 'tis gone.

"Daughters of northern Magnus, hail!

The lamp is lit, the flame is clear,--

To you I come to tell my tale,

Awake, arise, my tale to hear!"

Norna was well known to the daughters of Troil, but it was not without

emotion, although varied by their respective dispositions, that they

beheld her so unexpectedly, and at such an hour. Their opinions with

respect to the supernatural attributes to which she pretended, were

extremely different.

Minna, with an unusual intensity of imagination, although superior in

talent to her sister, was more apt to listen to, and delight in, every

tale of wonder, and was at all times more willing to admit impressions

which gave her fancy scope and exercise, without minutely examining

their reality. Brenda, on the other hand, had, in her gaiety, a slight

propensity to satire, and was often tempted to laugh at the very

circumstances upon which Minna founded her imaginative dreams; and, like

all who love the ludicrous, she did not readily suffer herself to be

imposed upon, or overawed, by pompous pretensions of any kind whatever.

But, as her nerves were weaker and more irritable than those of her

sister, she often paid involuntary homage, by her fears, to ideas which

her reason disowned; and hence, Claud Halcro used to say, in reference

to many of the traditionary superstitions around Burgh-Westra, that

Minna believed them without trembling, and that Brenda trembled without

believing them. In our own more enlightened days, there are few whose

undoubting mind and native courage have not felt Minna's high wrought

tone of enthusiasm; and perhaps still fewer, who have not, at one time

or other, felt, like Brenda, their nerves confess the influence of

terrors which their reason disowned and despised.

Under the power of such different feelings, Minna, when the first moment

of surprise was over, prepared to spring from her bed, and go to greet

Norna, who, she doubted not, had come on some errand fraught with fate;

while Brenda, who only beheld in her a woman partially deranged in her

understanding, and who yet, from the extravagance of her claims,

regarded her as an undefined object of awe, or rather terror, detained

her sister by an eager and terrified grasp, while she whispered in her

ear an anxious entreaty that she would call for assistance. But the soul

of Minna was too highly wrought up by the crisis at which her fate

seemed to have arrived, to permit her to follow the dictates of her

sister's fears; and, extricating herself from Brenda's hold, she hastily

threw on a loose nightgown, and, stepping boldly across the apartment,

while her heart throbbed rather with high excitement than with fear, she

thus addressed her singular visitor:

"Norna, if your mission regards us, as your words seem to express, there

is one of us, at least, who will receive its import with reverence, but

without fear."

"Norna, dear Norna," said the tremulous voice of Brenda,--who, feeling

no safety in the bed after Minna quitted it, had followed her, as

fugitives crowd into the rear of an advancing army, because they dare

not remain behind, and who now stood half concealed by her sister, and

holding fast by the skirts of her gown,--"Norna, dear Norna," said she,

"whatever you are to say, let it be to-morrow. I will call Euphane Fea,

the housekeeper, and she will find you a bed for the night."

"No bed for me!" said their nocturnal visitor; "no closing of the eyes

for me! They have watched as shelf and stack appeared and disappeared

betwixt Burgh-Westra and Orkney--they have seen the Man of Hoy sink

into the sea, and the Peak of Hengcliff arise from it, and yet they have

not tasted of slumber; nor must they slumber now till my task is ended.

Sit down, then, Minna, and thou, silly trembler, sit down, while I trim

my lamp--Don your clothes, for the tale is long, and ere 'tis done, ye

will shiver with worse than cold."

"For Heaven's sake, then, put it off till daylight, dear Norna!" said

Brenda; "the dawn cannot be far distant; and if you are to tell us of

any thing frightful, let it be by daylight, and not by the dim glimmer

of that blue lamp!"

"Patience, fool!" said their uninvited guest. "Not by daylight should

Norna tell a tale that might blot the sun out of heaven, and blight the

hopes of the hundred boats that will leave this shore ere noon, to

commence their deep-sea fishing,--ay, and of the hundred families that

will await their return. The demon, whom the sounds will not fail to

awaken, must shake his dark wings over a shipless and a boatless sea, as

he rushes from his mountain to drink the accents of horror he loves so

well to listen to."

"Have pity on Brenda's fears, good Norna," said the elder sister, "and

at least postpone this frightful communication to another place and

hour."

"Maiden, no!" replied Norna, sternly; "it must be told while that lamp

yet burns. Mine is no daylight tale--by that lamp it must be told, which

is framed out of the gibbet-irons of the cruel Lord of Wodensvoe, who

murdered his brother; and has for its nourishment--but be that

nameless--enough that its food never came either from the fish or from

the fruit!--See, it waxes dim and dimmer, nor must my tale last longer

than its flame endureth. Sit ye down there, while I sit here opposite

to you, and place the lamp betwixt us; for within the sphere of its

light the demon dares not venture."

The sisters obeyed, Minna casting a slow awestruck, yet determined look

all around, as if to see the Being, who, according to the doubtful words

of Norna, hovered in their neighbourhood; while Brenda's fears were

mingled with some share both of anger and of impatience. Norna paid no

attention to either, but began her story in the following words:--

"Ye know, my daughters, that your blood is allied to mine, but in what

degree ye know not; for there was early hostility betwixt your grandsire

and him who had the misfortune to call me daughter.--Let me term him by

his Christian name of Erland, for that which marks our relation I dare

not bestow. Your grandsire Olave, was the brother of Erland. But when

the wide Udal possessions of their father Rolfe Troil, the most rich and

well estated of any who descended from the old Norse stock, were divided

betwixt the brothers, the Fowd gave to Erland his father's lands in

Orkney, and reserved for Olave those of Hialtland. Discord arose between

the brethren; for Erland held that he was wronged; and when the

Lawting,[47] with the Raddmen and Lawright-men, confirmed the

division, he went in wrath to Orkney, cursing Hialtland and its

inhabitants--cursing his brother and his blood.

"But the love of the rock and of the mountain still wrought on Erland's

mind, and he fixed his dwelling not on the soft hills of Ophir, or the

green plains of Gramesey, but in the wild and mountainous Isle of Hoy,

whose summit rises to the sky like the cliffs of Foulah and of

Feroe.[48] He knew,--that unhappy Erland,--whatever of legendary lore

Scald and Bard had left behind them; and to teach me that knowledge,

which was to cost us both so dear, was the chief occupation of his old

age. I learned to visit each lonely barrow--each lofty cairn--to tell

its appropriate tale, and to soothe with rhymes in his praise the spirit

of the stern warrior who dwelt within. I knew where the sacrifices were

made of yore to Thor and to Odin, on what stones the blood of the

victims flowed--where stood the dark-browed priest--where the crested

chiefs, who consulted the will of the idol--where the more distant crowd

of inferior worshippers, who looked on in awe or in terror. The places

most shunned by the timid peasants had no terrors for me; I dared walk

in the fairy circle, and sleep by the magic spring.

"But, for my misfortune, I was chiefly fond to linger about the Dwarfie

Stone, as it is called, a relic of antiquity, which strangers look on

with curiosity, and the natives with awe. It is a huge fragment of rock,

which lies in a broken and rude valley, full of stones and precipices,

in the recesses of the Ward-hill of Hoy. The inside of the rock has two

couches, hewn by no earthly hand, and having a small passage between

them. The doorway is now open to the weather; but beside it lies a

large stone, which, adapted to grooves still visible in the entrance,

once had served to open and to close this extraordinary dwelling, which

Trolld, a dwarf famous in the northern Sagas, is said to have framed for

his own favourite residence. The lonely shepherd avoids the place; for

at sunrise, high noon, or sunset, the misshapen form of the necromantic

owner may sometimes still be seen sitting by the Dwarfie Stone.[49] I

feared not the apparition, for, Minna, my heart was as bold, and my hand

was as innocent, as yours. In my childish courage, I was even but too

presumptuous, and the thirst after things unattainable led me, like our

primitive mother, to desire increase of knowledge, even by prohibited

means. I longed to possess the power of the Voluspæ and divining women

of our ancient race; to wield, like them, command over the elements; and

to summon the ghosts of deceased heroes from their caverns, that they

might recite their daring deeds, and impart to me their hidden

treasures. Often when watching by the Dwarfie Stone, with mine eyes

fixed on the Ward-hill, which rises above that gloomy valley, I have

distinguished, among the dark rocks, that wonderful carbuncle,[50](_p_)

which gleams ruddy as a furnace to them who view it from beneath, but

has ever become invisible to him whose daring foot has scaled the

precipices from which it darts its splendour. My vain and youthful bosom