CHAPTER XVIII

WAVERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY

When Edward had collected his scattered recollection, he was

surprised to observe the cavern totally deserted. Having arisen

and put his dress in some order, he looked more accurately round

him; but all was still solitary. If it had not been for the

decayed brands of the fire, now sunk into grey ashes, and the

remnants of the festival, consisting of bones half burnt and half

gnawed, and an empty keg or two, there remained no traces of

Donald and his band. When Waverley sallied forth to the entrance

of the cave, he perceived that the point of rock, on which

remained the marks of last night's beacon, was accessible by a

small path, either natural or roughly hewn in the rock, along the

little inlet of water which ran a few yards up into the cavern,

where, as in a wetdock, the skiff which brought him there the

night before was still lying moored. When he reached the small

projecting platform on which the beacon had been established, he

would have believed his further progress by land impossible, only

that it was scarce probable but what the inhabitants of the cavern

had some mode of issuing from it otherwise than by the lake.

Accordingly, he soon observed three or four shelving steps, or

ledges of rock, at the very extremity of the little platform; and,

making use of them as a staircase, he clambered by their means

around the projecting shoulder of the crag on which the cavern

opened, and, descending with some difficulty on the other side, he

gained the wild and precipitous shores of a Highland loch, about

four miles in length and a mile and a half across, surrounded by

heathy and savage mountains, on the crests of which the morning

mist was still sleeping.

Looking back to the place from which he came, he could not help

admiring the address which had adopted a retreat of such seclusion

and secrecy. The rock, round the shoulder of which he had turned

by a few imperceptible notches, that barely afforded place for the

foot, seemed, in looking back upon it, a huge precipice, which

barred all further passage by the shores of the lake in that

direction. There could be no possibility, the breadth of the lake

considered, of descrying the entrance of the narrow and low-browed

cave from the other side; so that, unless the retreat had been

sought for with boats, or disclosed by treachery, it might be a

safe and secret residence to its garrison as long as they were

supplied with provisions. Having satisfied his curiosity in these

particulars, Waverley looked around for Evan Dhu and his

attendants, who, he rightly judged, would be at no great distance,

whatever might have become of Donald Bean Lean and his party,

whose mode of life was, of course, liable to sudden migrations of

abode. Accordingly, at the distance of about half a mile, he

beheld a Highlander (Evan apparently) angling in the lake, with

another attending him, whom, from the weapon which he shouldered,

he recognised for his friend with the battle-axe.

Much nearer to the mouth of the cave he heard the notes of a

lively Gaelic song, guided by which, in a sunny recess, shaded by

a glittering birch-tree, and carpeted with a bank of firm white

sand, he found the damsel of the cavern, whose lay had already

reached him, busy, to the best of her power, in arranging to

advantage a morning repast of milk, eggs, barley-bread, fresh

butter, and honey-comb. The poor girl had already made a circuit

of four miles that morning in search of the eggs, of the meal

which baked her cakes, and of the other materials of the

breakfast, being all delicacies which she had to beg or borrow

from distant cottagers. The followers of Donald Bean Lean used

little food except the flesh of the animals which they drove away

from the Lowlands; bread itself was a delicacy seldom thought of,

because hard to be obtained, and all the domestic accommodations

of milk, poultry, butter, etc., were out of the question in this

Scythian camp. Yet it must not be omitted that, although Alice had

occupied a part of the morning in providing those accommodations

for her guest which the cavern did not afford, she had secured

time also to arrange her own person in her best trim. Her finery

was very simple. A short russet-coloured jacket and a petticoat of

scanty longitude was her whole dress; but these were clean, and

neatly arranged. A piece of scarlet embroidered cloth, called the

snood, confined her hair, which fell over it in a profusion of

rich dark curls. The scarlet plaid, which formed part of her

dress, was laid aside, that it might not impede her activity in

attending the stranger. I should forget Alice's proudest ornament

were I to omit mentioning a pair of gold ear-rings and a, golden

rosary, which her father (for she was the daughter of Donald Bean

Lean) had brought from France, the plunder, probably, of some

battle or storm.

Her form, though rather large for her years, was very well

proportioned, and her demeanour had a natural and rustic grace,

with nothing of the sheepishness of an ordinary peasant. The

smiles, displaying a row of teeth of exquisite whiteness, and the

laughing eyes, with which, in dumb show, she gave Waverley that

morning greeting which she wanted English words to express, might

have been interpreted by a coxcomb, or perhaps by a young soldier

who, without being such, was conscious of a handsome person, as

meant to convey more than the courtesy of an hostess. Nor do I

take it upon me to say that the little wild mountaineer would have

welcomed any staid old gentleman advanced in life, the Baron of

Bradwardine, for example, with the cheerful pains which she

bestowed upon Edward's accommodation. She seemed eager to place

him by the meal which she had so sedulously arranged, and to which

she now added a few bunches of cranberries, gathered in an

adjacent morass. Having had the satisfaction of seeing him seated

at his breakfast, she placed herself demurely upon a stone at a

few yards' distance, and appeared to watch with great complacency

for some opportunity of serving him.

Evan and his attendant now returned slowly along the beach, the

latter bearing a large salmon-trout, the produce of the morning's

sport, together with the angling-rod, while Evan strolled forward,

with an easy, self-satisfied, and important gait, towards the spot

where Waverley was so agreeably employed at the breakfast-table.

After morning greetings had passed on both sides, and Evan,

looking at Waverley, had said something in Gaelic to Alice, which

made her laugh, yet colour up to her eyes, through a complexion

well en-browned by sun and wind, Evan intimated his commands that

the fish should be prepared for breakfast. A spark from the lock

of his pistol produced a light, and a few withered fir branches

were quickly in flame, and as speedily reduced to hot embers, on

which the trout was broiled in large slices. To crown the repast,

Evan produced from the pocket of his short jerkin a large scallop

shell, and from under the folds of his plaid a ram's horn full of

whisky. Of this he took a copious dram, observing he had already

taken his MORNING with Donald Bean Lean before his departure; he

offered the same cordial to Alice and to Edward, which they both

declined. With the bounteous air of a lord, Evan then proffered

the scallop to Dugald Mahony, his attendant, who, without waiting

to be asked a second time, drank it off with great gusto. Evan

then prepared to move towards the boat, inviting Waverley to

attend him. Meanwhile, Alice had made up in a small basket what

she thought worth removing, and flinging her plaid around her, she

advanced up to Edward, and with the utmost simplicity, taking hold

of his hand, offered her cheek to his salute, dropping at the same

time her little curtsy. Evan, who was esteemed a wag among the

mountain fair, advanced as if to secure a similar favour; but

Alice, snatching up her basket, escaped up the rocky bank as

fleetly as a roe, and, turning round and laughing, called

something out to him in Gaelic, which he answered in the same tone

and language; then, waving her hand to Edward, she resumed her

road, and was soon lost among the thickets, though they continued

for some time to hear her lively carol, as she proceeded gaily on

her solitary journey.

They now again entered the gorge of the cavern, and stepping into

the boat, the Highlander pushed off, and, taking advantage of the

morning breeze, hoisted a clumsy sort of sail, while Evan assumed

the helm, directing their course, as it appeared to Waverley,

rather higher up the lake than towards the place of his

embarkation on the preceding night. As they glided along the

silver mirror, Evan opened the conversation with a panegyric upon

Alice, who, he said, was both CANNY and FENDY; and was, to the

boot of all that, the best dancer of a strathspey in the whole

strath. Edward assented to her praises so far as he understood

them, yet could not help regretting that she was condemned to such

a perilous and dismal life.

'Oich! for that,' said Evan, 'there is nothing in Perthshire that

she need want, if she ask her father to fetch it, unless it be too

hot or too heavy.'

'But to be the daughter of a cattle-stealer--a common thief!'

'Common thief!--no such thing: Donald Bean Lean never LIFTED less

than a drove in his life.'

'Do you call him an uncommon thief, then?'

'No; he that steals a cow from a poor widow, or a stirk from a

cotter, is a thief; he that lifts a drove from a Sassenach laird

is a gentleman-drover. And, besides, to take a tree from the

forest, a salmon from the river, a deer from the hill, or a cow

from a Lowland strath, is what no Highlander need ever think shame

upon.'

'But what can this end in, were he taken in such an

appropriation?'

'To be sure he would DIE FOR THE LAW, as many a pretty man has

done before him.'

'Die for the law!'

'Ay; that is, with the law, or by the law; be strapped up on the

KIND gallows of Crieff, [Footnote: See Note 16.] where his father

died, and his goodsire died, and where I hope he'll live to die

himsell, if he's not shot, or slashed, in a creagh.'

'You HOPE such a death for your friend, Evan?'

'And that do I e'en; would you have me wish him to die on a bundle

of wet straw in yon den of his, like a mangy tyke?'

'But what becomes of Alice, then?'

'Troth, if such an accident were to happen, as her father would

not need her help ony langer, I ken nought to hinder me to marry

her mysell.'

'Gallantly resolved,' said Edward; 'but, in the meanwhile, Evan,

what has your father-in-law (that shall be, if he have the good

fortune to be hanged) done with the Baron's cattle?'

'Oich,' answered Evan,'they were all trudging before your lad and

Allan Kennedy before the sun blinked ower Ben Lawers this morning;

and they'll be in the pass of Bally-Brough by this time, in their

way back to the parks of Tully-Veolan, all but two, that were

unhappily slaughtered before I got last night to Uaimh an Ri.'

'And where are we going, Evan, if I may be so bold as to ask?'

said Waverley.

'Where would you be ganging, but to the Laird's ain house of

Glennaquoich? Ye would not think to be in his country, without

ganging to see him? It would be as much as a man's life's worth.'

'And are we far from Glennaquoich?'

'But five bits of miles; and Vich Ian Vohr will meet us.'

In about half an hour they reached the upper end of the lake,

where, after landing Waverley, the two Highanders drew the boat

into a little creek among thick flags and reeds, where it lay

perfectly concealed. The oars they put in another place of

concealment, both for the use of Donald Bean Lean probably, when

his occasions should next bring him to that place.

The travellers followed for some time a delightful opening into

the hills, down which a little brook found its way to the lake.

When they had pursued their walk a short distance, Waverley

renewed his questions about their host of the cavern.

'Does he always reside in that cave?'

'Out, no! it's past the skill of man to tell where he's to be

found at a' times; there's not a dern nook, or cove, or corrie, in

the whole country that he's not acquainted with.'

'And do others beside your master shelter him?'

'My master? MY master is in Heaven,' answered Evan, haughtily; and

then immediately assuming his usual civility of manner, 'but you

mean my Chief;--no, he does not shelter Donald Bean Lean, nor any

that are like him; he only allows him (with a smile) wood and

water.'

'No great boon, I should think, Evan, when both seem to be very

plenty.'

'Ah! but ye dinna see through it. When I say wood and water, I

mean the loch and the land; and I fancy Donald would be put till

't if the Laird were to look for him wi' threescore men in the

wood of Kailychat yonder; and if our boats, with a score or twa

mair, were to come down the loch to Uaimh an Ri, headed by mysell,

or ony other pretty man.'

'But suppose a strong party came against him from the Low Country,

would not your Chief defend him?'

'Na, he would not ware the spark of a flint for him--if they came

with the law.'

'And what must Donald do, then?'

'He behoved to rid this country of himsell, and fall back, it may

be, over the mount upon Letter Scriven.'

'And if he were pursued to that place?'

'I'se warrant he would go to his cousin's at Rannoch.'

'Well, but if they followed him to Rannoch?'

'That,' quoth Evan, 'is beyond all belief; and, indeed, to tell

you the truth, there durst not a Lowlander in all Scotland follow

the fray a gun-shot beyond Bally-Brough, unless he had the help

of the Sidier Dhu.'

'Whom do you call so?'

'The Sidier Dhu? the black soldier; that is what they call the

independent companies that were raised to keep peace and law in

the Highlands. Vich Ian Vohr commanded one of them for five years,

and I was sergeant mysell, I shall warrant ye. They call them

Sidier Dhu because they wear the tartans, as they call your men--

King George's men--Sidier Roy, or red soldiers.'

'Well, but when you were in King George's pay, Evan, you were

surely King George's soldiers?'

'Troth, and you must ask Vich Ian Vohr about that; for we are for

his king, and care not much which o' them it is. At ony rate,

nobody can say we are King George's men now, when we have not seen

his pay this twelve-month.'

This last argument admitted of no reply, nor did Edward attempt

any; he rather chose to bring back the discourse to Donald Bean

Lean. 'Does Donald confine himself to cattle, or does he LIFT, as

you call it, anything else that comes in his way?'

'Troth, he's nae nice body, and he'll just tak onything, but most

readily cattle, horse, or live Christians; for sheep are slow of

travel, and inside plenishing is cumbrous to carry, and not easy

to put away for siller in this country.'

'But does he carry off men and women?'

'Out, ay. Did not ye hear him speak o' the Perth bailie? It cost

that body five hundred merks ere he got to the south of Bally-

Brough. And ance Donald played a pretty sport. [Footnote: See Note

17.] There was to be a blythe bridal between the Lady Cramfeezer,

in the howe o' the Mearns (she was the auld laird's widow, and no

sae young as she had been hersell), and young Gilliewhackit, who

had spent his heirship and movables, like a gentleman, at cock-

matches, bull-baitings, horse-races, and the like. Now, Donald

Bean Lean, being aware that the bridegroom was in request, and

wanting to cleik the cunzie (that is, to hook the siller), he

cannily carried off Gilliewhackit ae night when he was riding

dovering hame (wi' the malt rather abune the meal), and with the

help of his gillies he gat him into the hills with the speed of

light, and the first place he wakened in was the cove of Uaimh an

Ri. So there was old to do about ransoming the bridegroom; for

Donald would not lower a farthing of a thousand punds--'

'The devil!'

'Punds Scottish, ye shall understand. And the lady had not the

siller if she had pawned her gown; and they applied to the

governor o' Stirling castle, and to the major o' the Black Watch;

and the governor said it was ower far to the northward, and out of

his district; and the major said his men were gane hame to the

shearing, and he would not call them out before the victual was

got in for all the Cramfeezers in Christendom, let alane the

Mearns, for that it would prejudice the country. And in the

meanwhile ye'll no hinder Gilliewhackit to take the small-pox.

There was not the doctor in Perth or Stirling would look near the

poor lad; and I cannot blame them, for Donald had been misguggled

by ane of these doctors about Paris, and he swore he would fling

the first into the loch that he catched beyond the pass. However

some cailliachs (that is, old women) that were about Donald's hand

nursed Gilliewhackit sae weel that, between the free open air in

the cove and the fresh whey, deil an he did not recover maybe as

weel as if he had been closed in a glazed chamber and a bed with

curtains, and fed with red wine and white meat. And Donald was sae

vexed about it that, when he was stout and weel, he even sent him

free home, and said he would be pleased with onything they would

like to gie him for the plague and trouble which he had about

Gilliewhackit to an unkenn'd degree. And I cannot tell you

precisely how they sorted; but they agreed sae right that Donald

was invited to dance at the wedding in his Highland trews, and

they said that there was never sae meikle siller clinked in his

purse either before or since. And to the boot of all that,

Gilliewhackit said that, be the evidence what it liked, if he had

the luck to be on Donald's inquest, he would bring him in guilty

of nothing whatever, unless it were wilful arson or murder under

trust.'

With such bald and disjointed chat Evan went on illustrating the

existing state of the Highlands, more perhaps to the amusement of

Waverley than that of our readers. At length, after having marched

over bank and brae, moss and heather, Edward, though not

unacquainted with the Scottish liberality in computing distance,

began to think that Evan's five miles were nearly doubled. His

observation on the large measure which the Scottish allowed of

their land, in comparison to the computation of their money, was

readily answered by Evan with the old jest, 'The deil take them

wha have the least pint stoup.'

[Footnote: The Scotch are liberal in computing their land and

liquor; the Scottish pint corresponds to two English quarts. As

for their coin, every one knows the couplet--

How can the rogues pretend to sense?

Their pound is only twenty pence.]

And now the report of a gun was heard, and a sportsman was seen,

with his dogs and attendant, at the upper end of the glen.

'Shough,' said Dugald Mahony, 'tat's ta Chief.'

'It is not,' said Evan, imperiously. 'Do you think he would come

to meet a Sassenach duinhe-wassel in such a way as that?'

But as they approached a little nearer, he said, with an

appearance of mortification, 'And it is even he, sure enough; and

he has not his tail on after all; there is no living creature with

him but Callum Beg.'

In fact, Fergus Mac-Ivor, of whom a Frenchman might have said as

truly as of any man in the Highlands, 'Qu'il connoit bien ses

gens' had no idea of raising himself in the eyes of an English

young man of fortune by appearing with a retinue of idle

Highlanders disproportioned to the occasion. He was well aware

that such an unnecessary attendance would seem to Edward rather

ludicrous than respectable; and, while few men were more attached

to ideas of chieftainship and feudal power, he was, for that very

reason, cautious of exhibiting external marks of dignity, unless

at the time and in the manner when they were most likely to

produce an imposing effect. Therefore, although, had he been to

receive a brother chieftain, he would probably have been attended

by all that retinue which Evan described with so much unction, he

judged it more respectable to advance to meet Waverley with a

single attendant, a very handsome Highland boy, who carried his

master's shooting-pouch and his broadsword, without which he

seldom went abroad.

When Fergus and Waverley met, the latter was struck with the

peculiar grace and dignity of the Chieftain's figure. Above the

middle size and finely proportioned, the Highland dress, which he

wore in its simplest mode, set off his person to great advantage.

He wore the trews, or close trowsers, made of tartan, chequed

scarlet and white; in other particulars his dress strictly

resembled Evan's, excepting that he had no weapon save a dirk,

very richly mounted with silver. His page, as we have said,

carried his claymore; and the fowling-piece, which he held in his

hand, seemed only designed for sport. He had shot in the course of

his walk some young wild-ducks, as, though CLOSE TIME was then

unknown, the broods of grouse were yet too young for the

sportsman. His countenance was decidedly Scottish, with all the

peculiarities of the northern physiognomy, but yet had so little

of its harshness and exaggeration that it would have been

pronounced in any country extremely handsome. The martial air of

the bonnet, with a single eagle's feather as a distinction, added

much to the manly appearance of his head, which was besides

ornamented with a far more natural and graceful cluster of close

black curls than ever were exposed to sale in Bond Street.

An air of openness and affability increased the favorable

impression derived from this handsome and dignified exterior. Yet

a skilful physiognomist would have been less satisfied with the

countenance on the second than on the first view. The eyebrow and

upper lip bespoke something of the habit of peremptory command and

decisive superiority. Even his courtesy, though open, frank, and

unconstrained, seemed to indicate a sense of personal importance;

and, upon any check or accidental excitation, a sudden, though

transient lour of the eye showed a hasty, haughty, and vindictive

temper, not less to be dreaded because it seemed much under its

owner's command. In short, the countenance of the Chieftain

resembled a smiling summer's day, in which, notwithstanding, we

are made sensible by certain, though slight signs that it may

thunder and lighten before the close of evening.

It was not, however, upon their first meeting that Edward had an

opportunity of making these less favourable remarks. The Chief

received him as a friend of the Baron of Bradwardine, with the

utmost expression of kindness and obligation for the visit;

upbraided him gently with choosing so rude an abode as he had done

the night before; and entered into a lively conversation with him

about Donald Bean's housekeeping, but without the least hint as to

his predatory habits, or the immediate occasion of Waverley's

visit, a topic which, as the Chief did not introduce it, our hero

also avoided. While they walked merrily on towards the house of

Glennaquoich, Evan, who now fell respectfully into the rear,

followed with Callum Beg and Dugald Mahony.

We shall take the opportunity to introduce the reader to some

particulars of Fergus Mac-Ivor's character and history, which were

not completely known to Waverley till after a connection which,

though arising from a circumstance so casual, had for a length of

time the deepest influence upon his character, actions, and

prospects. But this, being an important subject, must form the

commencement of a new chapter.

Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1 · 第 18 / 35 章