IMMEDIATELY upon receiving the message of Meg Merrilies, brought by
Dominie Sampson, Colonel Mannering had sent a carriage to the place
designated. Bertram and his companion Dandie, having by the help of the
gipsies, Meg's companions, made good their escape from the burning
custom-house, took their places in it and were whirled through the
darkness, they knew not whither. But it was at the door of the house of
Woodbourne that they found themselves. Mr. Pleydell, the lawyer, had
also arrived from Edinburgh, so that all were presently met together in
the drawing-room, and it is difficult to say which of the party appeared
the most surprised.
In Captain Brown (or Harry Bertram, to call him by his own proper name),
Colonel Mannering saw the man whom he had believed slain by his hand in
India. Julia met her lover in her father's house, and apparently there
by his invitation. Dominie Sampson stood half aghast to recognise the
lost heir of Ellangowan. Bertram himself feared the effect which his
sudden appearance might have on Julia, while honest Dandie wished his
thick-soled boots and rough-spun Liddesdale plaid anywhere else than in
a room filled with ladies and gentlemen.
Only the lawyer, Mr. Pleydell, was wholly master of the situation, and
bustled about, putting everybody at their ease. He saw himself in the
thick of a great mysterious lawsuit which he alone could unravel, and he
proceeded on the spot to cross-examine Bertram as to what he remembered
of his life before he went to Holland.
Bertram remembered, he said, quite clearly, a good-looking gentleman
whom he had called father, a delicate lady who must have been his
mother, but more distinctly than either he recalled a tall man in worn
black who had taught him his lessons and whom he loved for his kindness.
At these words Dominie Sampson could contain himself no longer. He rose
hastily from his chair, and with clasped hands and trembling limbs cried
out, "Harry Bertram--look at me! Was not I the man?"
Bertram started up as if a sudden light had dawned upon him.
"Yes," he cried, "that is my name--Bertram--Harry Bertram! And those are
the voice and figure of my kind old master!"
The Dominie threw himself into his arms, his whole frame shaking with
emotion, and at last, his feelings overcoming him, he lifted up his
voice and wept. Even Colonel Mannering had need of his handkerchief.
Pleydell made wry faces and rubbed hard at his glasses, while Dandie
Dinmont, after two strange blubbering explosions, fairly gave way and
cried out, "Deil's in the man! He's garred me do what I haena done since
my auld mither died!"
After this, the examination went on more staidly. Bertram said that he
remembered very well the walk he had taken with the Dominie and somebody
lifting him up on horseback--then, more indistinctly, a scuffle in which
he and his guide had been pulled from the saddle. Vaguely and gradually
the memory came back of how he had been lifted into the arms of a very
tall woman who protected him from harm. Again he was a poor half-starved
cabin-boy in the Holland trade. Quickly, however, gaining the good-will
of the leading partner of the firm to which the vessel belonged, he had
been thoroughly well educated in Holland, before being sent to seek his
fortune in India. He passed over his career there, but told in detail
the accidental way in which young Hazlewood had been wounded, and ended
by a request that he should now be told who the questioner might be who
took such an interest in his affairs.
"Why, for myself, sir," answered the counsellor, "I am Paulus Pleydell,
an advocate at the Scottish bar. And as for you, it is not easy for the
moment to say who you are. But I trust in a short time to hail you by
the title of Henry Bertram, Esquire, representative of one of the oldest
families in Scotland, and heir of entail to the estates of Ellangowan."
On the morrow the plotting at Woodbourne still went on merrily, around
the person of the newly found heir. The counsellor-at-law arranged his
plan of campaign. The Dominie, having left Harry Bertram at half-text
and words of two syllables when he was carried off in Warroch Wood,
prepared to take up his education at that exact point.
"Of a surety, little Harry," he said, "we will presently resume our
studies. We will begin from the foundation. Yes, I will reform your
education upward from the true knowledge of English grammar, even to
that of the Hebrew or Chaldaic tongue!"
In the meantime, Colonel Mannering, having first had an interview with
the counsellor in his room, gently drew from Julia that it was no other
than Bertram who had spoken with her under her window at Mervyn Hall;
also that, though she had remained silent, she had perfectly recognised
him before the scuffle took place with young Hazlewood at the pond. For
these concealments from her father, Mannering as gently forgave her, and
received in return a promise that, in future, she would hide nothing
from him which it concerned him to know.
The first step of the conspirators was to obtain a legal release for
Bertram from Sir Robert Hazlewood, who granted it most unwillingly,
having (it was evident) been secretly primed by Glossin as to what he
should say and do. But it was secured at last, upon Colonel Mannering's
pledging his word of honour for his appearance. And while the business
was being settled, Harry Bertram, with the two ladies, wandered out to a
knoll above the ancient castle of Ellangowan to look once again upon the
home of his ancestors.
They were standing here, looking on the crumbling walls, when suddenly,
as if emerging from the earth, Meg Merrilies ascended from the hollow
way beneath, and stood before them.
"I sought ye at the house," she said, "but ye are right and I was wrong.
It is here we should meet--here, on the very spot where my eyes last saw
your father. And now, remember your promise and follow me!"
In spite of the unwillingness of Lucy and Julia to allow him to depart
with such a companion, Bertram and Dandie (for Meg invited Dinmont also
to follow her) hastened to obey the gipsy's summons. There was something
weird in the steady swiftness of her gait as she strode right forward
across the moor, taking no heed either of obstacle or of well-trodden
path. She seemed like some strange withered enchantress drawing men
after her by her witchcrafts. But Julia and Lucy were somewhat comforted
by the thought that if the gipsy had meditated any evil against Bertram,
she would not have asked so doughty a fighter as Dandie Dinmont to
accompany him.
They therefore made the best of their way home, and while they were
telling the adventure to the Colonel, young Hazlewood, who happened to
be at Woodbourne, courageously offered to follow after, to see that no
harm came to Dandie and his former antagonist.
Meg Merrilies led them through the wood of Warroch, along the same path
by which Harry had been carried on the night of the exciseman's murder.
Turning for a moment, she asked Bertram if he remembered the way.
"Not very clearly!" he answered.
"Ay," she said, "here was the very spot where Frank Kennedy was pulled
from his horse. I was hiding behind the bour-tree bush at the moment.
Sair, sair he strove and sair he cried for mercy. But he was in the
hands of them that never kenned the word."
Continuing her way, she led them downward to the sea by a secret and
rugged path, cut in the face of the cliff, and hidden among brushwood.
There on the shore lay the stone under which the body of Frank Kennedy
had been found crushed. A little farther on was the cave itself in which
the murderers had concealed themselves. The gipsy pointed mysteriously.
"He is there," she said, in a low voice, "the man who alone can
establish your right--Jansen Hatteraick, the tyrant of your youth, and
the murderer of Frank Kennedy. Follow me--I have put the fire between
you. He will not see you as you enter, but when I utter the words, 'The
Hour and the Man'--then do you rush in and seize him. But be prepared.
It will be a hard battle, for Hatteraick is a very devil!"
"Dandie, you must stand by me now!" said Bertram to his comrade.
"That ye need never doubt," returned the Borderer; "but a' the same it's
an awesome thing to leave the blessed sun and free air, and gang and be
killed like a fox in his hole. But I'll never baulk ye--it'll be a
hard-bitten terrier that will worry Dandie!"
So forward they went, creeping cautiously on all fours after the gipsy
woman. When they were about halfway in, a hand was laid on Dandie
Dinmont's heel, and it was all the stout farmer could do to keep from
crying out--which, in the defenceless position in which they were
placed, might well have cost them all their lives.
However, Dandie freed his ankle with a kick, and instantly a voice
behind him whispered, "It is a friend--Charles Hazlewood!"
As soon as they had gained the higher part of the cave, Meg Merrilies
began rustling about among the dried branches, murmuring and singing, to
cover the noise made by the entrance of the three men who followed her.
From the deep dark where they stood, they could see Dirk Hatteraick at
the farther end of the cave, behind a fire which he was continually
building up by throwing into it bits of dried sticks. Hatteraick was of
powerful build, and his features were beyond description savage and
rugged. A cutlass hung by his side, and into his belt he had thrust,
ready to his hand at a moment's notice, two pairs of pistols. Truly the
capture of Dirk Hatteraick was no light adventure, and Bertram, having
been warned by Dandie in a cautious whisper of Hazlewood's arrival,
thought within himself that they would be none the worse of the third
who had come so opportunely to their assistance.
"Here, beldam--deyvil's kind," cried Hatteraick in his harshest voice,
"have you brought me the brandy and news of my people?"
"Here is the flask for you," answered Meg, passing it to him; "but as
for your crew, they are all cut down and scattered by the redcoats!"
"Storm and wetter, ye hag," he cried, "ye bring ill news. This coast is
fatal to me! And what of Glossin?"
"Ye missed your stroke there," she said; "ye have nothing to expect from
him!"
"Hagel," cried the ruffian, "if only I had him by the throat! He has led
me to perdition--men lost, boat lost, credit lost. I dare never show my
face in Flushing again!"
"_You will never need!_" croaked the gipsy.
Meg's sombre prophecy startled Hatteraick. He looked up suddenly.
"What is that you say, witch? And what are you doing there?" he cried.
Meg dropped a firebrand steeped in spirit upon some loose flax.
Instantly a tall column of brilliant wavering light filled the cave.
"Ye will never need to go to Flushing," she said, "because 'The Hour's
come and the Man!'"
At the signal, Bertram and Dandie Dinmont, springing over the brushwood,
rushed upon Hatteraick. Hazlewood, not knowing the plan of assault, was
a moment later. The ruffian instantly understood that he had been
betrayed, and the first brunt of his anger fell upon Meg Merrilies, at
whose breast he fired a pistol point-blank. She fell with a shriek which
was partly the sudden pain of the wound, and partly a shout of
triumphant laughter.
"I kenned it would end that way--and it is e'en this way that it should
end!"
Bertram had caught his foot on some slippery weed as he advanced, and
the chance stumble saved his life. For otherwise Hatteraick's second
bullet, aimed coolly and steadily, would certainly have crashed through
his skull. Before he could draw a third, Dandie Dinmont was upon him.
Yet such was the giant smuggler's strength and desperation, that he
actually dragged Dandie through the burning flax, before Bertram and
Hazlewood could come to the farmer's assistance. Then in a moment more
Hatteraick was disarmed and bound, though to master him took all the
strength of three strong well-grown men.
After he had been once bound securely, Hatteraick made no further
attempt to escape. He lay perfectly still while Bertram, leaving Dandie
to guard his prisoner, went to look to Meg Merrilies. The soldier,
familiar with gunshot wounds, knew at once that her case was hopeless.
But he did what he could to bind up the old gipsy's wound, while
Dandie, his hand laid heavily on Hatteraick's breast, watched pistol in
hand the entrance of the cave. Hazlewood, whose horse had been tied
outside, mounted to ride for assistance, and in a few moments silence
fell on the scene of so fierce a combat, broken only by the low moans of
the wounded gipsy.
It was no more than three-quarters of an hour that Bertram and Dandie
Dinmont had to keep their watch. But to them it seemed as if ages had
passed before Hazlewood returned and they were clear of the fatal
cavern. Hatteraick allowed himself to be removed without either
assisting or hindering those who had charge of him. But when his captors
would have had him rest against the huge boulder which had been thrown
down along with the murdered exciseman, Hatteraick shrank back with a
shout:
"Hagel--not there," he cried, "you would not have me sit _there!_"
On the arrival of a doctor, he could only confirm Bertram's opinion that
Meg Merrilies was indeed wounded to the death. But she had enough
strength left to call the assembled people to witness that Bertram was
indeed young Harry Bertram the lost heir of Ellangowan.
"All who have ever seen his father or grandfather, bear witness if he is
not their living image!" she cried.
Then with her failing breath she told the tale of the murder, and how
she had pleaded for the child's life. She dared Dirk Hatteraick to deny
the truth of what she was saying. But the villain only kept his grim
silence. Then suddenly the enthusiasm broke forth at the chance
testimony of the driver of a return coach to Kippletringan, who
exclaimed at sight of Bertram, "As sure as there's breath in man,
there's auld Ellangowan risen from the dead!" The shouts of the people,
many of whom had lived all their lives on his father's land, came
gratefully to the ear of the dying woman.
"Dinna ye hear?" she cried, "dinna ye hear? He's owned--he's owned! I am
a sinfu' woman! It was my curse that brought the ill, but it has been my
blessing that has ta'en it off! Stand oot o' the light that I may see
him yince mair. But no--it may not be! The darkness is in my ain e'en.
It's a' ended now:
"Pass breath,
Come death!"
And sinking back on her bed of straw, Meg Merrilies died without a
groan.
* * * * *
Mr. Pleydell having, as Sheriff of the county, formerly conducted the
inquiry into Frank Kennedy's death, was asked by the other magistrates
to preside at this. The meeting was held in the court-house of
Kippletringan, and many of the chief people in the neighbourhood
hastened to the little town to be present at the examination of
Hatteraick. Pleydell, among the evidence formerly collected, had by him
the sizes and markings of the footmarks found round the place of Frank
Kennedy's death-struggle. These had, of course, been safely preserved,
ever since the failure of justice on that occasion. One set evidently
belonged to a long and heavy foot, and fitted the boots of Brown, the
mate of Hatteraick's vessel, the same who had been killed at the attack
on Woodbourne. The stouter and thicker moulds fitted those of the
prisoner himself.
At this Hatteraick cried out suddenly, "Der deyvil, how could there be
footmarks at all on the ground when it was as hard as the heart of a
Memel log?"
Instantly Pleydell noted the smuggler's slip.
"In the evening," he said, "I grant you the ground was hard--not,
however, in the morning. But, Captain Hatteraick, will you kindly tell
me where you were on the day which you remember so exactly?"
Hatteraick, seeing his mistake, again relapsed into silence, and at that
moment Glossin bustled in to take his place on the bench with his
brother magistrates. He was, however, very coldly received indeed,
though he did his best to curry favour with each in succession. Even
Hatteraick only scowled at him, when he suggested that "the poor man,
being only up for examination, need not be so heavily ironed."
"The poor man has escaped once before," said Mr. Mac-Morlan, drily. But
something worse was in store for Glossin than the cold shoulder from his
fellow-justices. In his search through the documents found upon
Hatteraick, Pleydell had come upon three slips of paper, being bills
which had been drawn and signed by Hatteraick on the very day of the
Kennedy murder, ordering large sums of money to be paid to Glossin. The
bills had been duly honoured. Mr. Pleydell turned at once upon Glossin.
"That confirms the story which has been told by a second eye-witness of
the murder, one Gabriel, or Gibbs Faa, a nephew of Meg Merrilies, that
you were an accessory after the fact, in so far as, though you did not
take part in the slaughter of Kennedy, you concealed the guilty persons
on account of their giving you this sum of money."
In a few minutes Glossin found himself deserted by all, and he was even
ordered to be confined in the prison of Kippletringan, in a room
immediately underneath the cell occupied by Hatteraick. The smuggler,
being under the accusation of murder and having once already escaped,
was put for safety in the dungeon, called the "condemned cell," and
there chained to a great bar of iron, upon which a thick ring ran from
one side of the room to the other.
Left to his unpleasant reflections, Glossin began to count up the
chances in his favour. Meg Merrilies was dead. Gabriel Faa, besides
being a gipsy, was a vagrant and a deserter. The other witnesses--he did
not greatly fear them! If only Dirk Hatteraick could be induced to be
steady, and to put another meaning upon the sums of money which had
been paid to him on the day of Kennedy's murder!
He must see Hatteraick--that very night he must see him! He slipped two
guineas into Mac-Guffog's hand (who since the burning of Portanferry
prison had been made under-turnkey at Kippletringan), and by the
thief-taker's connivance he was to be admitted that very night at
locking-up time into the cell of Dirk Hatteraick.
"But you will have to remain there all night," said the man. "I have to
take the keys of all the cells directly to the captain of the prison!"
So on his stocking-soles Glossin stole up after his guide, and was
presently locked in with the savage and desperate smuggler. At first
Hatteraick would neither speak to Glossin nor listen to a word
concerning his plans.
"Plans," he cried at last, in a burst of fury, "you and your plans! You
have planned me out of ship, cargo, and life. I dreamed this moment that
Meg Merrilies dragged you here by the hair, and put her long clasp-knife
into my hand. Ah, you don't know what she said! Sturm-wetter, it will be
your wisdom not to tempt me!"
"Why, Hatteraick," said Glossin, "have you turned driveller? Rise and
speak with me!"
"Hagel, nein--let me alone!"
"Get up, at least! Up with you for an obstinate Dutch brute!" said
Glossin, all at once losing his temper and kicking him with his heavy
boot.
"Donner and blitzen," cried Hatteraick, leaping up and grappling with
him, "you shall have it then!"
Glossin resisted as best he could, but his utmost strength was as
nothing in the mighty grasp of the angry savage. He fell under
Hatteraick, the back of his neck coming with a fearful crash upon the
iron bar.
In the morning, true to his promise, Mac-Guffog called Glossin to come
out of Hatteraick's cell.
"Call louder!" answered a voice from within, grimly.
"Mr. Glossin, come away," repeated Mac-Guffog; "for Heaven's sake come
away!"
"He'll hardly do that without help!" said Hatteraick.
"What are you standing chattering there for, Mac-Guffog?" cried the
captain of the prison, coming up with a lantern. They found Glossin's
body doubled across the iron bar. He was stone dead. Hatteraick's grip
had choked the life out of him as he lay.
The murderer, having thus done justice on his accomplice, asked neither
favour nor mercy for himself, save only that he might have paper whereon
to write to his firm in Holland.
"I was always faithful to owners," he said, when they reproached him
with his crimes. "I always accounted for cargo to the last stiver! As
for that carrion," he added (pointing to Glossin), "I have only sent him
to the devil a little ahead of me!"
They gave him what he asked for--pens, ink, and paper. And on their
return, in a couple of hours, they found his body dangling from the
wall. The smuggler had hanged himself by a cord taken from his own
truckle-bed.
And though Mac-Guffog lost his place, on the suspicion of having
introduced Glossin into Hatteraick's cell, there were many who believed
that it was the Evil One himself who had brought the rogue and the
ruffian together in order that they might save the hangman the trouble
of doing his office upon them.
* * * * *
The end can be told in a word. Harry Bertram was duly and legally
returned as heir of Ellangowan. His father's debts were soon paid, and
the Colonel, in giving him his daughter, gave him also the means of
rebuilding the ancient castle of the Ellangowan race. Sir Robert
Hazlewood had no objections to Lucy Bertram as a daughter-in-law, so
soon as he knew that she brought with her as a dowry the whole estate of
Singleside, which her brother insisted on her taking in accordance with
her aunt's first intention. And lastly, in the new castle, there was one
chamber bigger than all the others, called the Library, and just off it
a little one, in which dwelt the happiest of men upon the earth. This
chamber was called on the plans "Mr. Sampson's Apartment."
* * * * *