W!' coulters [*The fore-iron of a plough.] and wi'
forehammers We garr'd [*Made] the bars bang merrily, Until
we came to the inner prison where Willie O, Kinmont he did
lie. Old Border Ballad.
We return to Portanferry, and to Bertram and his honest-hearted
friend, whom we left most innocent inhabitants of a place built for
the guilty. The slumbers of the farmer were as sound as it was
possible.
But Bertram's first heavy sleep passed away long before midnight,
nor could he again recover that state of oblivion. Added to the
uncertain and uncomfortable state of his mind, his body felt
feverish and oppressed. This was chiefly owing to the close and
confined air of the small apartment in which they slept. After
enduring for some time the broiling and suffocating feeling
attendant upon such an atmosphere, he rose to endeavour to open the
window of the apartment, and thus to procure a change of air. Alas!
the first trial reminded him that he was in jail, and that the
building being contrived for security, not comfort, the means of
procuring fresh air were not left at the disposal of the wretched
inhabitants.
Disappointed in this attempt, he stood by the unmanageable window
for some time. Little Wasp, though oppressed with the fatigue of
his journey on the preceding day, crept out of bed after his
master, and stood by him rubbing his shaggy coat against his legs,
and expressing, by a murmuring sound, the delight which he felt at
being restored to him. Thus accompanied, and waiting until the
feverish feeling which at present agitated his blood should
subside, into a desire for warmth and slumber, Bertram remained for
some time looking out upon the sea.
The tide was now nearly full, and dashed hoarse and near below the
base of the building. Now and then a large wave reached even the
barrier or bulwark which defended the foundation of the house, and
was flung upon it with greater force and noise than those which
only broke upon the sand. Far in the distance, under the indistinct
light of a hazy and often overclouded moon, the ocean rolled its
multitudinous complication of waves, crossing, bursting, and
mingling with each other.
"A wild and dim spectacle," said Bertram to himself, "like those
crossing tides of fate which have tossed me about the world from my
infancy upwards. When will this uncertainty cease, and how soon
shall I be permitted to look out for a tranquil home, where I may
cultivate in quiet, and without dread and perplexity, those arts of
peace from which my cares have been hitherto so forcibly diverted?
The ear of Fancy, it is said, can discover the voice of sea-nymphs
and tritons amid the bursting murmurs of the ocean; would that I
could do so, and that some siren or Proteus would arise from these
billows, to unriddle for me the strange maze of fate in which I am
so deeply entangled!--Happy friend!" he said, looking at the bed
where Dinmont had deposited his bulky person, "thy cares are
confined to the narrow round of a healthy and thriving occupation!
Thou canst lay them aside at pleasure, and enjoy the deep repose of
body and mind which wholesome labour has prepared for thee!"
At this moment his rejections were broken by little Wasp, who,
attempting to spring up against the window,--began to yelp and bark
most furiously. The sound reached Dinmont's ears, but without
dissipating the illusion which had transported him from this
wretched apartment to the free air of his own green hills. "Hoy,
Yarrow, man!--far yaud--far yaud!" he muttered between his teeth,
imagining, doubtless, that he was calling to his sheep-dog, and
hounding him in shepherds' phrase, against some intruders on the
grazing. The continued barking of the terrier within was answered
by the angry challenge of the mastiff in the courtyard, which had
for a long time been silent, excepting only an occasional short and
deep note, uttered when the moon shone suddenly from among the
clouds. Now, his clamour was continued and furious, and seemed to
he excited by some disturbance distinct from the barking of Wasp,
which had first given him the alarm, and which, with much trouble,
his master had contrived to still into an angry note of low
growling.
At last Bertram, whose attention was now fully awakened, conceived
that he saw a boat upon the sea, and heard in good earnest the
sound of oars and of human voices, mingling with the dash of the
billows. Some benighted fishermen, he thought, or perhaps some of
the desperate traders from the Isle of Man. They are very hardy,
however, to approach so near to the Custom-house, where there must
be sentinels. It is a large boat, like a longboat, and full of
people; perhaps it belongs to the revenue service.--Bertram was
confirmed in this last opinion, by observing that the boat made for
a little quay which ran into the sea behind the Custom-house, and
'jumping ashore one after another, the crew, to the number of
twenty hands, glided secretly up a small lane which divided the
Custom-house from the Bridewell, and disappeared from his sight,
leaving only two persons to take care of the boat.
The dash of these men's oars at first, and latterly the suppressed
sounds of their voices, had excited the wrath of the wakeful
sentinel in the courtyard, who now exalted his deep voice into such
a horrid and continuous din, that it awakened his brute master, as
savage a ban-dog as himself. His cry from a window, of "How now,
Tearum, what's the matter, sir?--down, d-n ye, down!" produced no
abatement of Tearum's vociferation, which in part prevented his
master from bearing the sounds of alarm which his ferocious
vigilance was in the act of challenging. But the mate of the
two-legged Cerberus was gifted with sharper ears than her husband.
She also was now at the window; "B-t ye, gae down and let loose the
dog," she said, "they're sporting the door of the Custom-house, and
the auld sap at Hazlewood House has ordered off the guard. But ye
hae nae mair heart, than a cat." And down the Amazon sallied to
perform the task herself, while her helpmate, more jealous of
insurrection within doors, than of storm from without, went from
cell to cell to see that the inhabitants of each were carefully
secured.
These latter sounds, with which we have made the reader acquainted,
had their origin in front of the house, and were consequently
imperfectly heard by Bertram, whose apartment, as we have already
noticed, looked from the back part of the building upon the sea. He
heard, however, a stir and tumult in the house, which did not seem
to accord with the stern seclusion of a prison at the hour of
midnight, and, connecting them with the arrival of an armed boat at
that dead hour, could not but suppose that something extraordinary
was about to take place. In this belief he shook Dinmont by the
shoulder--"Eh!--Ay!--Oh!--Ailie, woman, it's no time to get up
yet," growled the sleeping man of the mountains. More roughly
shaken, however, he gathered himself up, shook his ears, and asked,
"In the name of Providence, what's the matter?"
"That I can't tell you," replied Bertram; "but either the place is
on fire, or some extraordinary thing is about to happen. Are you
not sensible of a smell of fire? Do you not hear what a noise there
is of clashing doors within the house, and of hoarse voices,
murmurs, and distant shouts on the outside? Upon my word, I believe
something very extraordinary has taken place--Get up, for the love
of Heaven, and let us be on our guard."
Dinmont rose at the idea of danger, as intrepid and undismayed as
any of his ancestors when the beaconlight was kindled. "Odd,
Captain, this is a queer place! they winna let ye out in the day,
and they winna let ye sleep in the night. Deil, but it wad break
my heart in a fortnight. But, Lordsake, what a racket they're
making now! Odd, I wish we had some light. Wasp-Wasp, whisht,
hinny--whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear what they're
doing.--Deil's in ye, will ye whisht?"
They sought in vain among the embers the means of lighting their
candle, and the noise without still continued. Dinmont in his turn
had recourse to the window, "Lordsake, Captain! come here.--Odd,
they hae broken the Custom-house!"
Bertram hastened to the window, and plainly saw a miscellaneous
crowd of smugglers, and blackguards of different descriptions, some
carrying lighted torches, others bearing packages and barrels down
the lane to the boat that was lying at the quay, to which two or
three other fisher-boats were now brought round. They were loading
each of these in their turn, and one or two had already put off to
seaward. "This speaks for itself," said Bertram; "but I fear
something worse has happened. Do you perceive a strong smell of
smoke, or is it my fancy?"
"Fancy?" answered Dinmont, "there's a reek like a killogie. [*A
lime-kiln.] Odd, if they burn the Custom-house, it will catch
here, and we'll lunt [*Burn] like a tar-barrel a' thegither.--Eh!
it wad be fearsome to be burnt alive for naething, like as if ane
had been a warlock! [*witch]--Mac-Guffog, hear ye!"--roaring at
the top of his voice; "an ye wad ever hae a haill bane in your
skin, let's out, man! let's out!"
The fire began now to rise high, and thick clouds of smoke rolled
past the window, at which Bertram and Dinmont were stationed.
Sometimes, as the wind pleased, the dim shroud of vapour hid
everything from their sight; sometimes a red glare illuminated both
land and sea, and shone full on the stern and fierce figures, who,
wild with ferocious activity, were engaged in loading the boats.
The fire was at length triumphant, and spouted in jets of flame out
at each window of the burning building, while huge flakes of
flaming materials came driving on the wind against the adjoining
prison, and rolling a dark canopy of smoke over all the
neighbourhood. The shouts of a furious mob resounded far and wide;
for the smugglers, in their triumph, were joined by all the rabble
of the little town and . neighbourhood, now aroused, and in
complete agitation, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour; some
from interest in the free trade, and most from the general love of
mischief and tumult, natural to a vulgar populace.
Bertram began to be seriously anxious for their fate. There was no
stir in the house; it seemed as if the jailor had deserted his
charge, and left the prison with its wretched inhabitants to the
mercy of the conflagration which was spreading towards them. In
the meantime a new and fierce attack was heard upon the outer gate
of the Correction-house, which, battered with sledge-hammers and
crows, was soon forced. The keeper, as great a coward as a bully,
with his more ferocious wife, had fled; their servants readily
surrendered the keys. The liberated prisoners, celebrating their
deliverance with the wildest yells of joy, mingled among the mob
which had given them freedom.
In the midst of the confusion that ensued, three or four of the
principal smugglers hurried to the apartment of Bertram with
lighted torches, and armed with cutlasses and pistols. --"Der
deyvil," said the leader, "here's our mark!" and two of them seized
on Bertram, but one whispered in his ear, "Make no resistance till
you are in the street." The same individual found an instant to
say to Dinmont--"Follow our friend, an help when you see the time
come."
In the hurry of the moment, Dinmont obeyed and followed close. The
two smugglers dragged Bertram along the passage, downstairs,
through the courtyard, now illuminated by the glare of fire, and
into the narrow street to which the gate opened, where, in the
confusion, the gang were necessarily in some degree separated from
each other. A rapid noise, as of a body of horse advancing, seemed
to add to the disturbance. "Hagel and wetter, what is that?" said
the leader; "keep together, kinder, look to the prisoner."--but
in spite of his charge, the two who held Bertram were the last of
the party.
The sounds and signs of violence were heard in front. The press
became curiously agitated, while some endeavoured to defend
themselves, others to escape; shots were fired, and the glittering
broadswords of the dragoons began to appear, flashing above the
beads of the rioters. "Now," said the warning whisper of the man
who held Bertram's left arm, the same who had spoken before, "shake
off that fellow, and follow me."
Bertram, exerting his strength suddenly and effectually, easily
burst from the grasp of the man who held his collar on the right
side. The fellow attempted to draw a pistol, but was prostrated by
a blow of Dinmont's fist, which an ox could hardly have received
without the same humiliation. "Follow me quick," said the friendly
partisan, and dived through a very narrow and dirty lane which led
from the main street.
No pursuit took place. The attention of the smugglers had been
otherwise and very disagreeably engaged by the sudden appearance of
Mac-Morlan and the party of horse. The loud manly voice of the
provincial magistrate was heard proclaiming the Riot Act, and
charging "all those unlawfully assembled to disperse at their own
proper peril." This interruption would indeed have happened in time
sufficient to have prevented the attempt, had not the magistrate
received upon the road some false information, which led him to
think that the smugglers were to land at the Bay of Ellangowan.
Nearly two hours were lost in consequence of this false
intelligence, which it may be no lack of charity to suppose that
Glossin, so deeply interested in the issue of that night's daring
attempt, had contrived to throw in Mac-Morlan's way, availing
himself of the knowledge that the soldiers had left Hazlewood
House, which would soon reach an ear so anxious as his.
In the meantime, Bertram followed his guide, and was in his turn
followed by Dinmont. The shouts of the mob, the trampling of the
horses, the dropping pistol-shots, sunk more and more faintly upon
their ears; when at the end of the dark lane they found a
post-chaise with four horses. "Are you here, in God's name?" said
the guide to the postilion who drove the leaders.
"Ay, troth am I," answered Jack Jabos, "and I wish I were any gate
else."
"Open the carriage, then--You, gentlemen, get into it--in a short
time you'll be in a place of safety--and (to Bertram) remember your
promise to the gipsy wife!"
Bertram, resolving to be passive in the hands of a person who had
just rendered him such a distinguished piece of service, got into
the chaise as directed. Dinmont followed; Wasp, who had kept close
by them, sprung in at the same time, and the carriage drove off
very fast. "Have a care a' me," said Dinmont, "but this is the
queerest thing yet!--Odd, I trust they'll no coup [*Upset.]
us--and then what's to come o' Dumple?--I would rather be on his
back than in the Deuke's coach, God bless him."
Bertram observed, that they could not go at that rapid rate to any
great distance without changing horses, and that they might insist
upon remaining till daylight at the first inn they stopped at, or
at least upon being made acquainted with the purpose and
termination of their journey, and Mr. Dinmont might there give
directions about his faithful horse, which would probably be safe
at the stables where he had left him.--"Aweel, aweel, e'en sae be
it for Dandie. --Odd, if we were ance out o' this trindling kist
[*Rolling chest.] o' a thing, I am thinking they wad find it hard
wark to gar us gang ony gate but where we liked oursells."
While he thus spoke, the carriage making a sudden turn, showed
them, through the left window, the village at some distance, still
widely beaconed by the fire, which, having reached a storehouse
wherein spirits were deposited, now rose high into the air, a
wavering column of brilliant light. They had not long time to
admire this spectacle, for another turn of the road carried them
into a close lane between plantations, through which the chaise
proceeded in nearly total darkness, but with unabated speed.