The bell strikes one.--We take no note of time But from its
loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an
angel spoke, I feel the solemn
sound.-- YOUNG.
The moral which the poet has rather quaintly deduced from
the necessary mode of measuring time, may he well applied to
our feelings respecting that portion of it which constitutes
human life. We observe the aged, the infirm, and those
engaged in occupations of immediate hazard, trembling as it
were upon the very brink of non-existence, but we derive no
lesson from the precariousness of their tenure until it has
altogether failed. Then, for a moment at least,
Our hopes and fears
Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge
Look down--On what? --a fathomless abyss,
A dark eternity,--how surely ours!--
The crowd of assembled gazers and idlers at Ellangowan had followed
the views of amusement, or what they called business, which brought
them there, with little regard to the feelings of those who were
suffering--upon that occasion. Few, indeed, knew anything of the
family. The father, betwixt seclusion, misfortune, and imbecility,
had drifted, as it were, for many years out of the notice of his
contemporaries-the daughter had never been known to them. But when
the general murmur announced that the unfortunate Mr. Bertram had
broken his heart in the effort to leave the mansion of his
forefathers, there poured forth a torrent of sympathy, like the
waters from the rock when stricken by the wand of the, prophet. The
ancient descent and unblemished integrity of the family were
respectfully remembered; above all, the sacred veneration due to
misfortune, which in Scotland seldom demands its tribute in vain,
then claimed and received it.
Mr. Mac-Morlan hastily announced, that he would suspend all further
proceedings in the sale of the estate and other property, and
relinquish the possession of the premises to the young lady, until
she could consult with her friends, and provide for the burial of
her father.
Glossin had cowered for a few minutes under the general expression
of sympathy, till, hardened by observing that no appearance of
popular indignation was directed his way, he had the audacity to
require that the sale should proceed.
"I will take it upon my own authority to adjourn it," said the
Sheriff-substitute," and will be responsible for the consequences.
I will also give due notice when it is again to go forward. It is
for the benefit of all concerned that the lands should bring the
highest price the state of the market will admit, and this is
surely no time to expect it--I will take the responsibility upon
myself."
Glossin left the room, and the house too, with secrecy and
despatch; and it was probably well for him he did so, since our
friend Jock Jabos was already haranguing a numerous tribe of
barelegged boys on the propriety of pelting him off the estate.
Some of the rooms were hastily put in order for the reception of
the young lady, and of her father's dead body. Mannering now found
his further interference would be unnecessary, and might be
misconstrued. He observed, too, that several families connected
with that of Ellangowan, and who indeed derived their principal
claim of gentility from the alliance, were now disposed to pay to
their trees of genealogy a tribute, which the adversity of their
supposed relatives had been inadequate to call forth; and that the
honour of superintending the funeral rites of the dead Godfrey
Bertram (as in the memorable case of Homer's birthplace) was likely
to be debated by seven gentlemen of rank and fortune, none of whom
had offered him an asylum while living. He therefore resolved, as
his presence was altogether useless, to make a short tour of a
fortnight, at the end of which period the adjourned sale of the
estate of Ellangowan was to proceed.
But before he departed, he solicited an interview with the
Dominie. The poor man appeared, on being informed a gentleman
wanted to speak to him, with some expression of surprise in his
gaunt features, to which recent sorrow had given an expression yet
more grisly. He made two or three profound reverences to
Mannering, and then, standing erect, patiently waited an
explanation of his commands.
"You are probably at a loss to guess, Mr. Sampson," said Mannering,
"what a stranger may have to say to you?"
"Unless it were to request, that I would undertake to train up some
youth in polite letters, and humane learning--but I cannot--I
cannot--I have yet a task to perform."
"No, Mr. Sampson, my wishes are not so ambitious. I have no son,
and my only daughter, I presume, you would not consider as a fit
pupil."
"Of a surety, no," replied the simple-minded Sampson. "Nathless, it
was I who did educate Miss Lucy in all useful learning,--albeit it
was the housekeeper who did teach her those unprofitable exercises
of hemming and shaping."
"Well, sir," replied Mannering, "it is of Miss Lucy I meant to
speak--you have, I presume, no recollection of me?"
Sampson, always sufficiently absent in mind, neither remembered the
astrologer of past years, nor even the stranger who had taken his
patron's part against Glossin, so much had his friend's sudden
death embroiled his ideas.
"Well, that does not signify," pursued the Colonel; "I am an old
acquaintance of the late Mr. Bertram, able and willing to assist
his daughter in her present circumstances. Besides, I have thoughts
of making this purchase, and I should wish things kept in order
about the place; will you have the goodness to apply this small sum
in the usual family expenses?"--He put into the Dominie's hand a
purse containing some gold.
"Pro-di-gi-ous!" exclaimed Dominie Sampson. "But if your honour
would tarry--"
"Impossible, sir--impossible," said Mannering, making his escape
from him.
"Pro-di-gi-ous!" again exclaimed Sampson, following to the head of
the, stairs, still holding out the purse. "But as touching this
coined money--" Mannering escaped downstairs as fast as possible.
"Pro-di-gi-ous!" exclaimed Dominie Sampson, yet the third time,
now standing at the front door. "But as touching this specie--"
But Mannering was now on horseback, and out of hearing. The
Dominie, who had never, either in his own right, or as trustee for
another, been possessed of a quarter part of this sum, though it
was not above twenty guineas, "took counsel," as he expressed
himself, "how he should demean himself with respect unto the fine
gold thus left in his charge." Fortunately he found a disinterested
adviser in Mac-Morlan, who pointed out the most proper means of
disposing of it for contributing to Miss Bertram's convenience,
being no doubt the purpose to which it was destined by the
bestower.
Many of the neighbouring gentry were now sincerely eager in
pressing offers of hospitality and kindness upon Miss Bertram. But
she felt a natural reluctance to enter any family, for the first
time, as an object rather of benevolence than hospitality, and
determined to wait the opinion and advice of her father's nearest
female relation, Mrs. Margaret Bertram of Singleside, an old
unmarried lady, to whom she wrote an account of her present
distressful Situation.
The funeral of the late Mr. Bertram was performed with decent
privacy, and the unfortunate young lady was now to consider herself
as but the temporary tenant of the house in which she had been
born, and where her patience and soothing attentions had so long
"rocked the cradle of declining age." Her communication with Mr.
Mac-Morlan encouraged her to hope that she would not be suddenly or
unkindly deprived of this asylum; but fortune had ordered
otherwise.
For two days before the appointed day for the sale of the lands and
estate of Ellangowan, Mac-Morlan daily expected the appearance of
Colonel Mannering, or at least a letter containing powers to act
for him. But none such arrived. Mr. Mac-Morlan waked early in the
morning,--walked over to the Post-office,--there were no letters
for him. He endeavoured to persuade himself that he should see
Colonel Mannering to breakfast, and ordered his wife to place her
best china, and prepare herself accordingly. But the preparations
were in vain. "Could I have foreseen this," he said, "I would
have travelled Scotland over, but I would have found some one to
bid against Glossin."--Alas! such reflections were all too late.
The appointed hour arrived; and the parties met in the Masons'
Lodge at Kippletringan, being the place fixed for the adjourned
sale. Mac-Morlan spent as much time in preliminaries as decency
would permit, and read over the articles of sale as slowly as if
he--had been reading his own death-warrant. He turned his eye
every time the door of the room opened, with hopes which grew
fainter and fainter. He listened to every noise in the street of
the village, and endeavoured to distinguish in it the sound of
hoofs or wheels. It was all in vain. A bright idea then occurred,
that Colonel Mannering might have employed some other person in the
transaction--he would not have wasted a moment's thought upon the
want of confidence in himself, which such a manoeuvre would have
evinced. But this hope also was groundless. After a solemn pause,
Mr. Glossin offered the upset price for the lands and barony of
Ellangowan. No reply was made, and no competitor appeared; so,
after a lapse of the usual interval by the running of a sand-glass,
upon the intended purchaser entering the proper sureties, Mr.
Mac-Morlan was obliged, in technical terms, to "find and declare
the sale lawfully completed, and to prefer the said Gilbert Glossin
as the purchaser of the said lands and estate." The honest writer
refused to partake of a splendid entertainment with which Gilbert
Glossin, Esquire, now of Ellangowan, treated the rest of the
company, and returned home in huge bitterness of spirit, which he
vented in complaints against the fickleness and caprice of these
Indian nabobs, who never knew what they would be at for ten days
together. Fortune generously determined to take the blame upon
herself, and cut off even this vent of Mac-Morlan's resentment.
An express arrived about six o'clock at night, "very particularly
drunk," the maidservant said, with a packet from Colonel Mannering,
dated four days back, at a town about a hundred miles' distance
from Kippletringan, containing full powers to Mr. Mac-Morlan, or
any one whom he might employ, to make the intended purchase, and
stating, that some family business of consequence called the
Colonel himself to Westmoreland, where a letter would find him,
addressed to the care of Arthur Mervyn, Esq., of Mervyn Hall.
Mac-Morlan, in the transports of his wrath, flung the power of
attorney at the head of the innocent maid-servant, and was only
forcibly withheld from horsewhipping the rascally messenger, by
whose sloth and drunkenness the disappointment had taken place.