The Chief's beautiful sister appeared very glad to see Edward, and, as
her brother spoke a few hasty words to her in Gaelic, she suddenly
clasped her hands, and, looking up to heaven, appeared to ask a blessing
upon some enterprise. She then gave Edward some letters that had arrived
for him during his absence. It was perhaps as well that Edward took
these to his room to open, considering the amount of varied ill news
that he found in them.
The first was from his father, who had just been dismissed from his
position as King's minister, owing (as he put it) to the ingratitude of
the great--but really, as was proved afterwards, on account of some
political plots which he had formed against his chief, the prime
minister of the day.
Then his generous uncle, Sir Everard, wrote that all differences were
over between his brother and himself. He had espoused his quarrel, and
he directed Edward at once to send in the resignation of his commission
to the War Office without any preliminaries, forbidding him longer to
serve a government which had treated his father so badly.
But the letter which touched Edward most deeply was one from his
commanding officer at Dundee, which declared curtly that if he did not
report himself at the headquarters of the regiment within three days
after the date of writing, he would be obliged to take steps in the
matter which would be exceedingly disagreeable to Captain Waverley.
Edward at once sat down and wrote to Colonel Gardiner that, as he had
thus chosen to efface the remembrance of past civilities, there was
nothing left to him but to resign his commission, which he did formally,
and ended his letter by requesting his commanding officer to forward
this resignation to the proper quarter.
No little perplexed as to the meaning of all this, Edward was on his way
to consult Fergus Mac-Ivor on the subject, when the latter advanced with
an open newspaper in his hand.
"Do your letters," he asked, "confirm this unpleasant news?"
And he held out the _Caledonian Mercury_, in which not only did he find
his father's disgrace chronicled, but on turning to the _Gazette_ he
found the words, "Edward Waverley, Captain in the --th regiment of
dragoons, superseded for absence without leave." The name of his
successor, one Captain Butler, followed immediately.
On looking at the date of Colonel Gardiner's missive as compared with
that of the _Gazette_, it was evident that his commanding officer had
carried out his threat to the letter. Yet it was not at all like him to
have done so. It was still more out of keeping with the constant
kindness that he had shown to Edward. It was the young man's first idea,
in accordance with the customs of the time, to send Colonel Gardiner a
challenge. But, upon Fergus Mac-Ivor's advice, Edward ultimately
contented himself with adding a postscript to his first letter, marking
the time at which he had received the first summons, and regretting that
the hastiness of his commander's action had prevented his anticipating
it by sending in his resignation.
"That, if anything," said Fergus, "will make this Calvinistic colonel
blush for his injustice."
But it was not long before some part at least of the mystery was made
plain. Fergus took advantage of Edward's natural anger at his unworthy
treatment, to reveal to him that a great rising was about to take place
in the Highlands in favour of King James, and to urge him to cast in his
lot with the clans. Flora, on the contrary, urged him to be careful and
cautious, lest he should involve others to whom he owed everything, in a
common danger with himself.
Edward, whose fancy (if not whose heart) had gradually been turning more
and more toward the beautiful and patriotic Flora, appeared less
interested in rebellion than in obtaining her brother's good-will and
bespeaking his influence with his sister.
"Out upon you," cried Fergus, with pretended ill-humour, "can you think
of nothing but ladies at such a time? Besides, why come to me in such a
matter? Flora is up the glen. Go and ask herself. And Cupid go with you!
But do not forget that my lovely sister, like her loving brother, is apt
to have a pretty strong will of her own!"
Edward's heart beat as he went up the rocky hillside to find Flora. She
received and listened to him with kindness, but steadily refused to
grant him the least encouragement. All her thoughts, her hopes, her life
itself, were set on the success of this one bold stroke for a crown.
Till the rightful King was on his throne, she could not think of
anything else. Love and marriage were not for such as Flora Mac-Ivor.
Edward, in spite of the manifest good-will of the chief, had to be
content with such cold comfort as he could extract from Flora's promise
that she would remember him in her prayers!
Next morning Edward was awakened to the familiar sound of Daft Davie
Gellatley's voice singing below his window. For a moment he thought
himself back at Tully-Veolan. Davie was declaring loudly that
"_My heart's in the Highland, my heart is not here._"
Then, immediately changing to a less sentimental strain, he added with a
contemptuous accent:
"_There's nocht in the Highlands but syboes and leeks,_
_And lang-leggit callants gaun wanting the breeks;_
_Wanting the breeks, and without hose or shoon,_
_But we'll a' win the breeks when King Jamie comes hame._"
Edward, eager to know what had brought the Bradwardine "innocent" so far
from home, dressed hastily and went down. Davie, without stopping his
dancing for a moment, came whirling past, and, as he went, thrust a
letter into Waverley's hand. It proved to be from Rose Bradwardine, and
among other things it contained the news that the Baron had gone away to
the north with a body of horsemen, while the red soldiers had been at
Tully-Veolan searching for her father and also asking after Edward
himself. Indeed they had carried off his servant prisoner, together with
everything he had left at Tully-Veolan. Rose also warned him against the
danger of returning thither, and at the same time sent her compliments
to Fergus and Flora. The last words in the letter were, "_Is she not as
handsome and accomplished as I described her to be?_"
Edward was exceedingly perplexed. Knowing his innocence of all treason,
he could not imagine why he should be accused of it. He consulted
Fergus, who told him he would to a certainty be hanged or imprisoned if
he went south. Nevertheless, Edward persisted in "running his hazard."
The Chief, though wishful to keep him, did not absolutely say him nay.
Flora, instead of coming down to bid him good-bye, sent only excuses. So
altogether it was in no happy frame of mind that Edward rode away to the
south upon the Chief's horse, Brown Dermid, and with Callum Beg for an
attendant in the guise of a Lowland groom.
Callum warned his master against saying anything when they got to the
first little Lowland town, either on the subject of the Highlands, or
about his master, Vich Ian Vohr.
"The people there are bitter Whigs, teil burst them!" he said fiercely.
As they rode on they saw many people about the street, chiefly old women
in tartan hoods and red cloaks, who seemed to cast up their hands in
horror at the sight of Waverley's horse. Edward asked the reason.
"Oh," said Callum Beg, "it's either the muckle Sunday hersel', or the
little government Sunday that they caa the Fast!"
It proved to be the latter, and the innkeeper, a severe sly-looking man,
received them with scanty welcome. Indeed, he only admitted them because
he remembered that it was in his power to fine them for the crime of
travelling on a Fast Day by an addition to the length of his reckoning
next morning.
But as soon as Edward announced his wish for a horse and guide to Perth,
the hypocritical landlord made ready to go with him in person. Callum
Beg, excited by the golden guinea which Waverley gave him, offered to
show his gratitude by waiting a little distance along the road, and
"kittlin' the landlord's quarters wi' her skene-occle"--or, in other
words, setting a dagger in his back. Apparently Vich Ian Vohr's page
thought no more of such a deed than an ordinary English boy would have
thought of stealing an apple out of an orchard.