REPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION
Waverley was unaccustomed to the use of wine, excepting with great
temperance. He slept therefore soundly till late in the succeeding
morning, and then awakened to a painful recollection of the scene
of the preceding evening. He had received a personal affront--he,
a gentleman, a soldier, and a Waverley. True, the person who
offered it was not, at the time it was given, possessed of the
moderate share of sense which nature had allotted him; true also,
in resenting this insult, he would break the laws of Heaven as
well as of his country; true, in doing so, he might take the life
of a young man who perhaps respectably discharged the social
duties, and render his family miserable, or he might lose his own
--no pleasant alternative even to the bravest, when it is debated
coolly and in private.
All this pressed on his mind; yet the original statement recurred
with the same irresistible force. He had received a personal
insult; he was of the house of Waverley; and he bore a commission.
There was no alternative; and he descended to the breakfast
parlour with the intention of taking leave of the family, and
writing to one of his brother officers to meet him at the inn
midway between Tully-Veolan and the town where they were
quartered, in order that he might convey such a message to the
Laird of Balmawhapple as the circumstances seemed to demand. He
found Miss Bradwardine presiding over the tea and coffee, the
table loaded with warm bread, both of flour, oatmeal, and
barleymeal, in the shape of loaves, cakes, biscuits, and other
varieties, together with eggs, reindeer ham, mutton and beef
ditto, smoked salmon, marmalade, and all the other delicacies
which induced even Johnson himself to extol the luxury of a Scotch
breakfast above that of all other countries. A mess of oatmeal
porridge, flanked by a silver jug, which held an equal mixture of
cream and butter-milk, was placed for the Baron's share of this
repast; but Rose observed, he had walked out early in the morning,
after giving orders that his guest should not be disturbed.
Waverley sat down almost in silence, and with an air of absence
and abstraction which could not give Miss Bradwardine a favourable
opinion of his talents for conversation. He answered at random one
or two observations which she ventured to make upon ordinary
topics; so that, feeling herself almost repulsed in her efforts at
entertaining him, and secretly wondering that a scarlet coat
should cover no better breeding, she left him to his mental
amusement of cursing Doctor Doubleit's favourite constellation of
Ursa Major as the cause of all the mischief which had already
happened and was likely to ensue. At once he started, and his
colour heightened, as, looking toward the window, he beheld the
Baron and young Balmawhapple pass arm in arm, apparently in deep
conversation; and he hastily asked, 'Did Mr. Falconer sleep here
last night?' Rose, not much pleased with the abruptness of the
first question which the young stranger had addressed to her,
answered drily in the negative, and the conversation again sunk
into silence.
At this moment Mr. Saunderson appeared, with a message from his
master, requesting to speak with Captain Waverley in another
apartment. With a heart which beat a little quicker, not indeed
from fear, but from uncertainty and anxiety, Edward obeyed the
summons. He found the two gentlemen standing together, an air of
complacent dignity on the brow of the Baron, while something like
sullenness or shame, or both, blanked the bold visage of
Balmawhapple. The former slipped his arm through that of the
latter, and thus seeming to walk with him, while in reality he led
him, advanced to meet Waverley, and, stopping in the midst of the
apartment, made in great state the following oration: 'Captain
Waverley--my young and esteemed friend, Mr. Falconer of
Balmawhapple, has craved of my age and experience, as of one not
wholly unskilled in the dependencies and punctilios of the duello
or monomachia, to be his interlocutor in expressing to you the
regret with which he calls to remembrance certain passages of our
symposion last night, which could not but be highly displeasing to
you, as serving for the time under this present existing
government. He craves you, sir, to drown in oblivion the memory of
such solecisms against the laws of politeness, as being what his
better reason disavows, and to receive the hand which he offers
you in amity; and I must needs assure you that nothing less than a
sense of being dans son tort, as a gallant French chevalier, Mons.
Le Bretailleur, once said to me on such an occasion, and an
opinion also of your peculiar merit, could have extorted such
concessions; for he and all his family are, and have been, time
out of mind, Mavortia pectora, as Buchanan saith, a bold and
warlike sept, or people.'
Edward immediately, and with natural politeness, accepted the hand
which Balmawhapple, or rather the Baron in his character of
mediator, extended towards him. 'It was impossible,' he said, 'for
him to remember what a gentleman expressed his wish he had not
uttered; and he willingly imputed what had passed to the exuberant
festivity of the day.'
'That is very handsomely said,' answered the Baron; 'for
undoubtedly, if a man be ebrius, or intoxicated, an incident which
on solemn and festive occasions may and will take place in the
life of a man of honour; and if the same gentleman, being fresh
and sober, recants the contumelies which he hath spoken in his
liquor, it must be held vinum locutum est; the words cease to be
his own. Yet would I not find this exculpation relevant in the
case of one who was ebriosus, or an habitual drunkard; because, if
such a person choose to pass the greater part of his time in the
predicament of intoxication, he hath no title to be exeemed from
the obligations of the code of politeness, but should learn to
deport himself peaceably and courteously when under influence of
the vinous stimulus. And now let us proceed to breakfast, and
think no more of this daft business.'
I must confess, whatever inference may be drawn from the
circumstance, that Edward, after so satisfactory an explanation,
did much greater honour to the delicacies of Miss Bradwardine's
breakfast-table than his commencement had promised. Balmawhapple,
on the contrary, seemed embarrassed and dejected; and Waverley
now, for the first time, observed that his arm was in a sling,
which seemed to account for the awkward and embarrassed manner
with which he had presented his hand. To a question from Miss
Bradwardine, he muttered in answer something about his horse
having fallen; and seeming desirous to escape both from the
subject and the company, he arose as soon as breakfast was over,
made his bow to the party, and, declining the Baron's invitation
to tarry till after dinner, mounted his horse and returned to his
own home.
Waverley now announced his purpose of leaving Tully-Veolan early
enough after dinner to gain the stage at which he meant to sleep;
but the unaffected and deep mortification with which the good-
natured and affectionate old gentleman heard the proposal quite
deprived him of courage to persist in it. No sooner had he gained
Waverley's consent to lengthen his visit for a few days than he
laboured to remove the grounds upon which he conceived he had
meditated a more early retreat. 'I would not have you opine,
Captain Waverley, that I am by practice or precept an advocate of
ebriety, though it may be that, in our festivity of last night,
some of our friends, if not perchance altogether ebrii, or
drunken, were, to say the least, ebrioli, by which the ancients
designed those who were fuddled, or, as your English vernacular
and metaphorical phrase goes, half-seas-over. Not that I would so
insinuate respecting you, Captain Waverley, who, like a prudent
youth, did rather abstain from potation; nor can it be truly said
of myself, who, having assisted at the tables of many great
generals and marechals at their solemn carousals, have the art to
carry my wine discreetly, and did not, during the whole evening,
as ye must have doubtless observed, exceed the bounds of a modest
hilarity.'
There was no refusing assent to a proposition so decidedly laid
down by him, who undoubtedly was the best judge; although, had
Edward formed his opinion from his own recollections, he would
have pronounced that the Baron was not only ebriolus, but verging
to become ebrius; or, in plain English, was incomparably the most
drunk of the party, except perhaps his antagonist the Laird of
Balmawhapple. However, having received the expected, or rather the
required, compliment on his sobriety, the Baron proceeded--'No,
sir, though I am myself of a strong temperament, I abhor ebriety,
and detest those who swallow wine gulce causa, for the oblectation
of the gullet; albeit I might deprecate the law of Pittacus of
Mitylene, who punished doubly a crime committed under the
influence of 'Liber Pater'; nor would I utterly accede to the
objurgation of the younger Plinius, in the fourteenth book of his
'Historia Naturalis.' No, sir, I distinguish, I discriminate, and
approve of wine so far only as it maketh glad the face, or, in the
language of Flaccus, recepto amico.'
Thus terminated the apology which the Baron of Bradwardine thought
it necessary to make for the superabundance of his hospitality;
and it may be easily believed that he was neither interrupted by
dissent nor any expression of incredulity.
He then invited his guest to a morning ride, and ordered that
Davie Gellatley should meet them at the dern path with Ban and
Buscar. 'For, until the shooting season commence, I would
willingly show you some sport, and we may, God willing, meet with
a roe. The roe, Captain Waverley, may be hunted at all times
alike; for never being in what is called PRIDE OF GREASE, he is
also never out of season, though it be a truth that his venison is
not equal to that of either the red or fallow deer. [Footnote: The
learned in cookery dissent from the Baron of Bradwardine, and hold
the roe venison dry and indifferent food, unless when dressed in
soup and Scotch collops.] But he will serve to show how my dogs
run; and therefore they shall attend us with David Gellatley.'
Waverley expressed his surprise that his friend Davie was capable
of such trust; but the Baron gave him to understand that this poor
simpleton was neither fatuous, nec naturaliter idiota, as is
expressed in the brieves of furiosity, but simply a crack-brained
knave, who could execute very well any commission which jumped
with his own humour, and made his folly a plea for avoiding every
other. 'He has made an interest with us,' continued the Baron, 'by
saving Rose from a great danger with his own proper peril; and the
roguish loon must therefore eat of our bread and drink of our cup,
and do what he can, or what he will, which, if the suspicions of
Saunderson and the Bailie are well founded, may perchance in his
case be commensurate terms.'
Miss Bradwardine then gave Waverley to understand that this poor
simpleton was dotingly fond of music, deeply affected by that
which was melancholy, and transported into extravagant gaiety by
light and lively airs. He had in this respect a prodigious memory,
stored with miscellaneous snatches and fragments of all tunes and
songs, which he sometimes applied, with considerable address, as
the vehicles of remonstrance, explanation, or satire. Davie was
much attached to the few who showed him kindness; and both aware
of any slight or ill usage which he happened to receive, and
sufficiently apt, where he saw opportunity, to revenge it. The
common people, who often judge hardly of each other as well as of
their betters, although they had expressed great compassion for
the poor innocent while suffered to wander in rags about the
village, no sooner beheld him decently clothed, provided for, and
even a sort of favourite, than they called up all the instances of
sharpness and ingenuity, in action and repartee, which his annals
afforded, and charitably bottomed thereupon a hypothesis that
David Gellatley was no farther fool than was necessary to avoid
hard labour. This opinion was not better founded than that of the
Negroes, who, from the acute and mischievous pranks of the
monkeys, suppose that they have the gift of speech, and only
suppress their powers of elocution to escape being set to work.
But the hypothesis was entirely imaginary; David Gellatley was in
good earnest the half-crazed simpleton which he appeared, and was
incapable of any constant and steady exertion. He had just so much
solidity as kept on the windy side of insanity, so much wild wit
as saved him from the imputation of idiocy, some dexterity in
field-sports (in which we have known as great fools excel), great
kindness and humanity in the treatment of animals entrusted to
him, warm affections, a prodigious memory, and an ear for music.
The stamping of horses was now heard in the court, and Davie's
voice singing to the two large deer greyhounds,
Hie away, hie away,
Over bank and over brae,
Where the copsewood is the greenest,
Where the fountains glisten sheenest,
Where the lady-fern grows strongest,
Where the morning dew lies longest,
Where the black-cock sweetest sips it,
Where the fairy latest trips it.
Hie to haunts right seldom seen,
Lovely, lonesome, cool, and green,
Over bank and over brae,
Hie away, hie away.
'Do the verses he sings,' asked Waverley, 'belong to old Scottish
poetry, Miss Bradwardine?'
'I believe not,' she replied. 'This poor creature had a brother,
and Heaven, as if to compensate to the family Davie's
deficiencies, had given him what the hamlet thought uncommon
talents. An uncle contrived to educate him for the Scottish kirk,
but he could not get preferment because he came from our GROUND.
He returned from college hopeless and brokenhearted, and fell into
a decline. My father supported him till his death, which happened
before he was nineteen. He played beautifully on the flute, and
was supposed to have a great turn for poetry. He was affectionate
and compassionate to his brother, who followed him like his
shadow, and we think that from him Davie gathered many fragments
of songs and music unlike those of this country. But if we ask him
where he got such a fragment as he is now singing, he either
answers with wild and long fits of laughter, or else breaks into
tears of lamentation; but was never heard to give any explanation,
or to mention his brother's name since his death.'
'Surely,' said Edward, who was readily interested by a tale
bordering on the romantic, 'surely more might be learned by more
particular inquiry.'
'Perhaps so,' answered Rose; 'but my father will not permit any
one to practise on his feelings on this subject.'
By this time the Baron, with the help of Mr. Saunderson, had
indued a pair of jack-boots of large dimensions, and now invited
our hero to follow him as he stalked clattering down the ample
stair-case, tapping each huge balustrade as he passed with the
butt of his massive horse-whip, and humming, with the air of a
chasseur of Louis Quatorze,--
Pour la chasse ordonnee il faut preparer tout.
Ho la ho! Vite! vite debout!