CHAPTER XXVIII

Nor board nor garner own we now,

Nor roof nor latched door,

Nor kind mate, bound, by holy vow,

To bless a good man's store

Noon lulls us in a gloomy den,

And night is grown our day;

Uprouse ye, then, my merry men!

And use it as ye may

JOANNA BAILLIE.

Brown could now reckon his foes: they were five in number; two of them

were very powerful men, who appeared to be either real seamen or

strollers who assumed that character; the other three, an old man and

two lads, were slighter made, and, from their black hair and dark

complexion, seemed to belong to Meg's tribe. They passed from one to

another the cup out of which they drank their spirits. 'Here's to his

good voyage!' said one of the seamen, drinking; 'a squally night he's

got, however, to drift through the sky in.'

We omit here various execrations with which these honest gentlemen

garnished their discourse, retaining only such of their expletives as

are least offensive.

' 'A does not mind wind and weather; 'a has had many a north-easter in

his day.'

'He had his last yesterday,' said another gruffly; 'and now old Meg may

pray for his last fair wind, as she's often done before.'

'I'll pray for nane o' him,' said Meg, 'nor for you neither, you randy

dog. The times are sair altered since I was a kinchen-mort. Men were

men then, and fought other in the open field, and there was nae milling

in the darkmans. And the gentry had kind hearts, and would have given

baith lap and pannel to ony puir gipsy; and there was not one, from

Johnnie Faa the upright man to little Christie that was in the

panniers, would cloyed a dud from them. But ye are a' altered from the

gude auld rules, and no wonder that you scour the cramp-ring and trine

to the cheat sae often. Yes, ye are a' altered: you 'll eat the

goodman's meat, drink his drink, sleep on the strammel in his barn, and

break his house and cut his throat for his pains! There's blood on your

hands, too, ye dogs, mair than ever came there by fair righting. See

how ye'll die then. Lang it was ere he died; he strove, and strove

sair, and could neither die nor live; but you--half the country will

see how ye'll grace the woodie.'

The party set up a hoarse laugh at Meg's prophecy.

'What made you come back here, ye auld beldam?' said one of the

gipsies; 'could ye not have staid where you were, and spaed fortunes to

the Cumberland flats? Bing out and tour, ye auld devil, and see that

nobody has scented; that's a' you're good for now.'

'Is that a' I am good for now?' said the indignant matron. 'I was good

for mair than that in the great fight between our folk and Patrico

Salmon's; if I had not helped you with these very fambles (holding up

her hands), Jean Baillie would have frummagem'd you, ye feckless

do-little!'

There was here another laugh at the expense of the hero who had

received this amazon's assistance.

'Here, mother,' said one of the sailors, 'here's a cup of the right for

you, and never mind that bully-huff.'

Meg drank the spirits, and, withdrawing herself from farther

conversation, sat down before the spot where Brown lay hid, in such a

posture that it would have been difficult for any one to have

approached it without her rising. The men, however, showed no

disposition to disturb her.

They closed around the fire and held deep consultation together; but

the low tone in which they spoke, and the cant language which they

used, prevented Brown from understanding much of their conversation. He

gathered in general that they expressed great indignation against some

individual. 'He shall have his gruel,' said one, and then whispered

something very low into the ear of his comrade.

'I'll have nothing to do with that,' said the other.

'Are you turned hen-hearted, Jack?'

'No, by G-d, no more than yourself, but I won't. It was something like

that stopped all the trade fifteen or twenty years ago. You have heard

of the Loup?'

'I have heard HIM (indicating the corpse by a jerk of his head) tell

about that job. G-d, how he used to laugh when he showed us how he

fetched him off the perch!'

'Well, but it did up the trade for one while,' said Jack.

'How should that be?' asked the surly villain.

'Why,' replied Jack, 'the people got rusty about it, and would not

deal, and they had bought so many brooms that--'

'Well, for all that,' said the other, 'I think we should be down upon

the fellow one of these darkmans and let him get it well.'

'But old Meg's asleep now,' said another; 'she grows a driveller, and

is afraid of her shadow. She'll sing out, some of these

odd-come-shortlies, if you don't look sharp.'

'Never fear,' said the old gipsy man; 'Meg's true-bred; she's the last

in the gang that will start; but she has some queer ways, and often

cuts queer words.'

With more of this gibberish they continued the conversation, rendering

it thus, even to each other, a dark obscure dialect, eked out by

significant nods and signs, but never expressing distinctly, or in

plain language, the subject on which it turned. At length one of them,

observing Meg was still fast asleep, or appeared to be so, desired one

of the lads 'to hand in the black Peter, that they might flick it

open.' The boy stepped to the door and brought in a portmanteau, which

Brown instantly recognised for his own. His thoughts immediately turned

to the unfortunate lad he had left with the carriage. Had the ruffians

murdered him? was the horrible doubt that crossed his mind. The agony

of his attention grew yet keener, and while the villains pulled out and

admired the different articles of his clothes and linen, he eagerly

listened for some indication that might intimate the fate of the

postilion. But the ruffians were too much delighted with their prize,

and too much busied in examining its contents, to enter into any detail

concerning the manner in which they had acquired it. The portmanteau

contained various articles of apparel, a pair of pistols, a leathern

case with a few papers, and some money, etc., etc. At any other time it

would have provoked Brown excessively to see the unceremonious manner

in which the thieves shared his property, and made themselves merry at

the expense of the owner. But the moment was too perilous to admit any

thoughts but what had immediate reference to self-preservation.

After a sufficient scrutiny into the portmanteau, and an equitable

division of its contents, the ruffians applied themselves more closely

to the serious occupation of drinking, in which they spent the greater

part of the night. Brown was for some time in great hopes that they

would drink so deep as to render themselves insensible, when his escape

would have been an easy matter. But their dangerous trade required

precautions inconsistent with such unlimited indulgence, and they

stopped short on this side of absolute intoxication. Three of them at

length composed themselves to rest, while the fourth watched. He was

relieved in this duty by one of the others after a vigil of two hours.

When the second watch had elapsed, the sentinel awakened the whole,

who, to Brown's inexpressible relief, began to make some preparations

as if for departure, bundling up the various articles which each had

appropriated. Still, however, there remained something to be done. Two

of them, after some rummaging which not a little alarmed Brown,

produced a mattock and shovel; another took a pickaxe from behind the

straw on which the dead body was extended. With these implements two of

them left the hut, and the remaining three, two of whom were the

seamen, very strong men, still remained in garrison.

After the space of about half an hour, one of those who had departed

again returned, and whispered the others. They wrapped up the dead body

in the sea cloak which had served as a pall, and went out, bearing it

along with them. The aged sibyl then arose from her real or feigned

slumbers. She first went to the door, as if for the purpose of watching

the departure of her late inmates, then returned, and commanded Brown,

in a low and stifled voice, to follow her instantly. He obeyed; but, on

leaving the hut, he would willingly have repossessed himself of his

money, or papers at least, but this she prohibited in the most

peremptory manner. It immediately occurred to him that the suspicion of

having removed anything of which he might repossess himself would fall

upon this woman, by whom in all probability his life had been saved. He

therefore immediately desisted from his attempt, contenting himself

with seizing a cutlass, which one of the ruffians had flung aside among

the straw. On his feet, and possessed of this weapon, he already found

himself half delivered from the dangers which beset him. Still,

however, he felt stiffened and cramped, both with the cold and by the

constrained and unaltered position which he had occupied all night.

But, as he followed the gipsy from the door of the hut, the fresh air

of the morning and the action of walking restored circulation and

activity to his benumbed limbs.

The pale light of a winter's morning was rendered more clear by the

snow, which was lying all around, crisped by the influence of a severe

frost. Brown cast a hasty glance at the landscape around him, that he

might be able again to know the spot. The little tower, of which only a

single vault remained, forming the dismal apartment in which he had

spent this remarkable night, was perched on the very point of a

projecting rock overhanging the rivulet. It was accessible only on one

side, and that from the ravine or glen below. On the other three sides

the bank was precipitous, so that Brown had on the preceding evening

escaped more dangers than one; for, if he had attempted to go round the

building, which was once his purpose, he must have been dashed to

pieces. The dell was so narrow that the trees met in some places from

the opposite sides. They were now loaded with snow instead of leaves,

and thus formed a sort of frozen canopy over the rivulet beneath, which

was marked by its darker colour, as it soaked its way obscurely through

wreaths of snow. In one place, where the glen was a little wider,

leaving a small piece of flat ground between the rivulet and the bank,

were situated the ruins of the hamlet in which Brown had been involved

on the preceding evening. The ruined gables, the insides of which were

japanned with turf-smoke, looked yet blacker contrasted with the

patches of snow which had been driven against them by the wind, and

with the drifts which lay around them.

Upon this wintry and dismal scene Brown could only at present cast a

very hasty glance; for his guide, after pausing an instant as if to

permit him to indulge his curiosity, strode hastily before him down the

path which led into the glen. He observed, with some feelings of

suspicion, that she chose a track already marked by several feet, which

he could only suppose were those of the depredators who had spent the

night in the vault. A moment's recollection, however, put his

suspicions to rest. It was not to be thought that the woman, who might

have delivered him up to her gang when in a state totally defenceless,

would have suspended her supposed treachery until he was armed and in

the open air, and had so many better chances of defence or escape. He

therefore followed his guide in confidence and silence. They crossed

the small brook at the same place where it previously had been passed

by those who had gone before. The footmarks then proceeded through the

ruined village, and from thence down the glen, which again narrowed to

a ravine, after the small opening in which they were situated. But the

gipsy no longer followed the same track; she turned aside, and led the

way by a very rugged and uneven path up the bank which overhung the

village. Although the snow in many places hid the pathway, and rendered

the footing uncertain and unsafe, Meg proceeded with a firm and

determined step, which indicated an intimate knowledge of the ground

she traversed. At length they gained the top of the bank, though by a

passage so steep and intricate that Brown, though convinced it was the

same by which he had descended on the night before, was not a little

surprised how he had accomplished the task without breaking his neck.

Above, the country opened wide and uninclosed for about a mile or two

on the one hand, and on the other were thick plantations of

considerable extent.

Meg, however, still led the way along the bank of the ravine out of

which they had ascended, until she heard beneath the murmur of voices.

She then pointed to a deep plantation of trees at some distance. 'The

road to Kippletringan,' she said, 'is on the other side of these

inclosures. Make the speed ye can; there's mair rests on your life than

other folk's. But you have lost all--stay.' She fumbled in an immense

pocket, from which she produced a greasy purse--'Many's the awmous your

house has gi'en Meg and hers; and she has lived to pay it back in a

small degree;' and she placed the purse in his hand.

'The woman is insane,' thought Brown; but it was no time to debate the

point, for the sounds he heard in the ravine below probably proceeded

from the banditti. 'How shall I repay this money,' he said, 'or how

acknowledge the kindness you have done me?'

'I hae twa boons to crave,' answered the sibyl, speaking low and

hastily: 'one, that you will never speak of what you have seen this

night; the other, that you will not leave this country till you see me

again, and that you leave word at the Gordon Arms where you are to be

heard of, and when I next call for you, be it in church or market, at

wedding or at burial, Sunday or Saturday, mealtime or fasting, that ye

leave everything else and come with me.'

'Why, that will do you little good, mother.'

'But 'twill do yoursell muckle, and that's what I'm thinking o'. I am

not mad, although I have had eneugh to make me sae; I am not mad, nor

doating, nor drunken. I know what I am asking, and I know it has been

the will of God to preserve you in strange dangers, and that I shall be

the instrument to set you in your father's seat again. Sae give me your

promise, and mind that you owe your life to me this blessed night.'

'There's wildness in her manner, certainly,' thought Brown, 'and yet it

is more like the wildness of energy than of madness.'--'Well, mother,

since you do ask so useless and trifling a favour, you have my promise.

It will at least give me an opportunity to repay your money with

additions. You are an uncommon kind of creditor, no doubt, but--'

'Away, away, then!' said she, waving her hand. 'Think not about the

goud, it's a' your ain; but remember your promise, and do not dare to

follow me or look after me.' So saying, she plunged again into the

dell, and descended it with great agility, the icicles and snow-wreaths

showering down after her as she disappeared.

Notwithstanding her prohibition, Brown endeavoured to gain some point

of the bank from which he might, unseen, gaze down into the glen; and

with some difficulty (for it must be conceived that the utmost caution

was necessary) he succeeded. The spot which he attained for this

purpose was the point of a projecting rock, which rose precipitously

from among the trees. By kneeling down among the snow and stretching

his head cautiously forward, he could observe what was going on in the

bottom of the dell. He saw, as he expected, his companions of the last

night, now joined by two or three others. They had cleared away the

snow from the foot of the rock and dug a deep pit, which was designed

to serve the purpose of a grave. Around this they now stood, and

lowered into it something wrapped in a naval cloak, which Brown

instantly concluded to be the dead body of the man he had seen expire.

They then stood silent for half a minute, as if under some touch of

feeling for the loss of their companion. But if they experienced such,

they did not long remain under its influence, for all hands went

presently to work to fill up the grave; and Brown, perceiving that the

task would be soon ended, thought it best to take the gipsy woman's

hint and walk as fast as possible until he should gain the shelter of

the plantation.

Having arrived under cover of the trees, his first thought was of the

gipsy's purse. He had accepted it without hesitation, though with

something like a feeling of degradation, arising from the character of

the person by whom he was thus accommodated. But it relieved him from a

serious though temporary embarrassment. His money, excepting a very few

shillings, was in his portmanteau, and that was in possession of Meg's

friends. Some time was necessary to write to his agent, or even to

apply to his good host at Charlie's Hope, who would gladly have

supplied him. In the meantime he resolved to avail himself of Meg's

subsidy, confident he should have a speedy opportunity of replacing it

with a handsome gratuity. 'It can be but a trifling sum,' he said to

himself, 'and I daresay the good lady may have a share of my banknotes

to make amends.'

With these reflections he opened the leathern purse, expecting to find

at most three or four guineas. But how much was he surprised to

discover that it contained, besides a considerable quantity of gold

pieces, of different coinages and various countries, the joint amount

of which could not be short of a hundred pounds, several valuable rings

and ornaments set with jewels, and, as appeared from the slight

inspection he had time to give them, of very considerable value.

Brown was equally astonished and embarrassed by the circumstances in

which he found himself, possessed, as he now appeared to be, of

property to a much greater amount than his own, but which had been

obtained in all probability by the same nefarious means through which

he had himself been plundered. His first thought was to inquire after

the nearest justice of peace, and to place in his hands the treasure of

which he had thus unexpectedly become the depositary, telling at the

same time his own remarkable story. But a moment's consideration

brought several objections to this mode of procedure In the first

place, by observing this course he should break his promise of silence,

and might probably by that means involve the safety, perhaps the life,

of this woman, who had risked her own to preserve his, and who had

voluntarily endowed him with this treasure--a generosity which might

thus become the means of her ruin. This was not to be thought of.

Besides, he was a stranger, and for a time at least unprovided with

means of establishing his own character and credit to the satisfaction

of a stupid or obstinate country magistrate. 'I will think over the

matter more maturely,' he said; 'perhaps there may be a regiment

quartered at the county town, in which case my knowledge of the service

and acquaintance with many officers of the army cannot fail to

establish my situation and character by evidence which a civil judge

could not sufficiently estimate. And then I shall have the commanding

officer's assistance in managing matters so as to screen this unhappy

madwoman, whose mistake or prejudice has been so fortunate for me. A

civil magistrate might think himself obliged to send out warrants for

her at once, and the consequence, in case of her being taken, is pretty

evident. No, she has been upon honour with me if she were the devil,

and I will be equally upon honour with her. She shall have the

privilege of a court-martial, where the point of honour can qualify

strict law. Besides, I may see her at this place, Kipple--Couple--what

did she call it? and then I can make restitution to her, and e'en let

the law claim its own when it can secure her. In the meanwhile,

however, I cut rather an awkward figure for one who has the honour to

bear his Majesty's commission, being little better than the receiver of

stolen goods.'

With these reflections, Brown took from the gipsy's treasure three or

four guineas, for the purpose of his immediate expenses, and, tying up

the rest in the purse which contained them, resolved not again to open

it until he could either restore it to her by whom it was given, or put

it into the hands of some public functionary. He next thought of the

cutlass, and his first impulse was to leave it in the plantation. But,

when he considered the risk of meeting with these ruffians, he could

not resolve on parting with his arms. His walking-dress, though plain,

had so much of a military character as suited not amiss with his having

such a weapon. Besides, though the custom of wearing swords by persons

out of uniform had been gradually becoming antiquated, it was not yet

so totally forgotten as to occasion any particular remark towards those

who chose to adhere to it. Retaining, therefore, his weapon of defence,

and placing the purse of the gipsy in a private pocket, our traveller

strode gallantly on through the wood in search of the promised highroad.

Guy Mannering, Or, the Astrologer — Complete · 第 28 / 58 章