But the story now turns to the young man Brown, or, to give him his full
title, Captain Vanbeest Brown, whom Colonel Mannering had left for dead
on an Indian field. He did not die, but he had been compelled to
undergo a long captivity among the bandits before he found his way back
to his regiment. The new Colonel whom he found in Mannering's place had
been kind to him, and he soon found himself in command of a troop of
dragoons. He was at present on leave in England, and, as he was
conscious that Mannering had no reason for his ill-will and apparent
cruelty, Brown felt that he on his part had no reason for standing on
ceremony with such a man. He loved Julia Mannering, and, to say the
least of it, she did not discourage him. So it was he who had played the
Hindoo air upon the lake--he with whom Julia had talked at her window,
even as Mervyn had related in his letter to his friend Colonel
Mannering.
When the Colonel and his daughter went away to Scotland, Captain Brown,
having no relatives in the country, resolved to follow them. He set out
on foot, having for sole companion a little terrier named Wasp. On the
way he had to pass a long and weary waste of heath and morass. One house
alone broke the monotonous expanse. It was little better than a shed,
but was sheltered by an ash tree, and a clay-built shed alongside served
for a rude stable. A stout pony stood tethered in front of the door,
busy with a feed of oats. Stillness brooded all around. It was a poor
place, but Captain Brown had wandered too far and seen too much to care
about appearances. He stooped his head and entered at the low door. In
a few minutes he found himself attacking a round of beef and washing it
down with home-brewed ale in company with the owner of the pony tethered
outside, a certain Mr. Dandie Dinmont, a store-farmer on his way home
from a Cumberland fair. At first only pleasant nods passed between them
as they drank to each other in silence.
Presently Brown noticed, seated in the great chimney, a very tall old
woman clad in a red cloak and a slouched bonnet, having all the
appearance of a gipsy or tinker. She smoked silently at her clay pipe,
while the doubtful-looking landlady went about her affairs.
Brown's terrier Wasp was the means of his striking up an acquaintance
with the sturdy farmer opposite, who, hearing that he had never seen a
blackcock, invited him forthwith to Charlies-hope, the name of his farm,
where he promised him he should both see blackcock, shoot blackcock, and
eat blackcock. Dandie Dinmont was going on to tell Brown of his
wanderings, when the old crone in the red cloak by the side of the fire
suddenly broke silence by asking if he had been recently in Galloway,
and if he knew Ellangowan.
"Ellangowan!" cried the farmer, "I ken it weel! Auld Laird Bertram died
but a fortnight ago, and the estate and everything had to be sold for
want of an heir male."
The old gipsy (who, of course, was no other than Meg Merrilies) sprang
at once to her feet.
"And who dared buy the estate, when the bonny knave-bairn that heirs it
may any day come back to claim his ain?"
"It was, I believe," said Dandie Dinmont, "one of these writer bodies
that buy up everything,--Gilbert Glossin by name!"
"Ay, Gibbie Glossin," said the old witch-wife, "mony a time I hae
carried him in my creels. But maybe ye'll hae heard o' Derncleugh, about
a mile frae Ellangowan?"
"And a wild-looking den it is," said the farmer; "nothing but old ruined
walls."
"It was a blithe bit once," said the gipsy, as if talking to herself;
"did ye notice if there was a willow tree half blown down, that hangs
over the bit burnie? Mony is the time hae I sat there and knitted my
stockin'."
"The deil's in the wife," cried Dandie; "let me away! Here's saxpence
for ye to buy half-a-mutchkin, instead o' claverin' o' auld-world
tales."
The gipsy took the money from the farmer, and tendered in return this
advice: "When Tib Mumps brings ye out the stirrup-cup, and asks ye
whether ye will gang ower Willie's brae or by the Conscowthartmoss, be
sure to choose the road ye _dinna_ tell her."
The farmer laughed and promised. But to Brown he said that after all he
would rather that Tib Mumps kenned where he was going than yon gipsy
queen, so he would e'en hold on his way.
Captain Brown soon followed on foot, but at the door he found himself
stopped by Meg Merrilies, who, with much earnestness, asked his name and
from whence he came.
"My name is Brown," he answered, a little impatiently; "I come from the
East Indies."
[Illustration: "HE had not gone very far, and was still in the heart of
the morass, when he saw his late companion of the ale-house engaged in
deadly combat with a couple of rascals, one of them armed with a
cutlass, and the other with a bludgeon."]
The old gipsy appeared disappointed by his answer, and Brown put a
shilling into her hand as he took his leave. However, he had not gone
very far, and was still in the heart of the morass, when he saw his late
companion of the ale-house engaged in deadly combat with a couple of
rascals, one of them armed with a cutlass, and the other with a
bludgeon. Brown's terrier Wasp ran forward, barking furiously, but
before Brown could come to his assistance the ruffians had got Dandie
Dinmont down, and the man with the bludgeon bestowed some merciless
blows upon his head. Then with a shout they turned their attention to
Brown, crying that "the first one was content." But Brown was a staunch
antagonist, and they soon found that they had met more than their match.
Whereupon the leader bade him follow his nose over the heath, for that
they had nothing to say to him.
But, since to do this was to abandon Dandie Dinmont to their mercy,
Brown refused point-blank. Affairs were at this pass when Dandie,
staggering to his feet, his loaded whip in his hand, managed to come to
the assistance of his rescuer, whereupon the two men took to their heels
and ran as hard as they could over the moor.
Then the farmer, who knew their ways, bade Brown mount behind him on his
horse Dumple, for he warned him that in five minutes "the whole
clanjamphrey" would be down upon them. And even as he spoke five or six
men made their appearance, running toward them over the moss. But Dumple
was staunch, and by dint of following the safest roads, and being left
to pick his own way in the difficult places, Dandie's pony soon left the
villains behind him. Then, following the old Roman road, they reached
Dinmont's farm of Charlies-hope, across the border, not long after
nightfall.
A furious barking from innumerable terriers and dogs of all breeds was
their welcome. And soon Brown found himself within four hospitable
walls, where not only were his own wants satisfied, but the wounds of
the master of the house were bound up by his buxom wife.
At kindly Charlies-hope, Brown remained several days, while Dandie
Dinmont showed him the best sport to be had upon the border. Together
they hunted the fox after the manner of the country--that is, treating
Reynard as a thief and a robber, with whom no conditions are to be
observed. Together they went to the night fishing, where Brown heard the
leisters or steel tridents ringing on the stones at the bottom of the
water, as the fishers struck at the salmon in the light of the blazing
torches kindled to attract the fish. Otter-hunting and badger-baiting
filled in the time, so that Brown had never been so well amused in his
life. But he begged from his host that the badger, which had made so
gallant a defence, should be allowed henceforth to go scot-free. Dandie
promised with willingness, happy to oblige his guest, though quite
unable to understand why any one should "care about a brock." When Brown
told this hearty family that he must leave them, he was compelled to
promise, over and over again, that he would soon return. The chorus of
Dandie's tow-headed youngsters burst into one unanimous howl.
"Come back again, Captain," cried one sturdy little chap, "and Jennie
shall be your wife."
Jennie, a girl of eleven, promptly ran and hid herself behind her
mother.
"Captain, come back," said a little fat roll-about girl of six, holding
up her mouth to be kissed; "come back and I'll be your wife my
ainsel'!"
It was hard to leave so hospitable a home to go where, to say the least
of it, one was not wanted. Especially was it so when the sturdy farmer,
grasping Brown's hand, said with a certain shamefacedness, "There's a
pickle siller that I do not ken what to do wi', after Ailie has gotten
her new goon and the bairns their winter duds. But I was thinking, that
whiles you army gentlemen can buy yoursel's up a step. If ye wad tak the
siller, a bit scrape o' a pen wad be as guid to me. Ye could take your
ain time about paying it back. And--and it would be a great convenience
to me."
Brown was much moved, but he could only thank his kind host heartily and
promise that in case of need he would not forget to draw upon his purse.
So they parted, Brown leaving his little terrier Wasp to share bed and
board with the eldest of the Dinmont boys, who right willingly undertook
the task as a kind of security for his master's return.
Dinmont conveyed his guest some distance, and afterward, from the first
Dumfries-shire town which they entered, Brown took a carriage to carry
him part of the way in the direction of Woodbourne, where Julia
Mannering was at present residing.