WAVERLEY IS STILL IN DISTRESS
The velocity, and indeed violence, with which Waverley was hurried
along, nearly deprived him of sensation; for the injury he had received
from his fall prevented him from aiding himself so effectually as he
might otherwise have done. When this was observed by his conductors,
they called to their aid two or three others of the party, and swathing
our hero's body in one of their plaids, divided his weight by that
means among them, and transported him at the same rapid rate as before,
without any exertion of his own. They spoke little, and that in Gaelic;
and did not slacken their pace till they had run nearly two miles, when
they abated their extreme rapidity, but continued still to walk very
fast, relieving each other occasionally,
Our hero now endeavoured to address them, but was only answered with
'CHA N'EIL BEURL' AGAM,' i.e. 'I have no English,' being, as Waverley
well knew, the constant reply of a Highlander, when he either does not
understand, or does not choose to reply to, an Englishman or Lowlander.
He then mentioned the name of Vich Ian Vohr, concluding that he was
indebted to his friendship for his rescue from the clutches of Gifted
Gilfillan; but neither did this produce any mark of recognition from his
escort.
The twilight had given place to moonshine when the party halted upon
the brink of a precipitous glen, which, as partly enlightened by the
moonbeams, seemed full of trees and tangled brushwood. Two of the
Highlanders dived into it by a small footpath, as if to explore its
recesses, and one of them returning in a few minutes, said something to
his companions, who instantly raised their burden, and bore him,
with great attention and care, down the narrow and abrupt descent.
Notwithstanding their precautions, however, Waverley's person came more
than once into contact, rudely enough, with the projecting stumps and
branches which overhung the pathway.
At the bottom of the descent, and, as it seemed, by the side of a
brook (for Waverley heard the rushing of a considerable body of water,
although its stream was invisible in the darkness), the party again
stopped before a small and rudely-constructed hovel. The door was open,
and the inside of the premises appeared as uncomfortable and rude as its
situation and exterior foreboded. There was no appearance of a floor
of any kind; the roof seemed rent in several places; the walls were
composed of loose stones and turf, and the thatch of branches of trees.
The fire was in the centre, and filled the whole wigwam with smoke,
which escaped as much through the door as by means of a circular
aperture in the roof. An old Highland sibyl, the only inhabitant of this
forlorn mansion, appeared busy in the preparation of some food. By
the light which the fire afforded, Waverley could discover that his
attendants were not of the clan of Ivor, for Fergus was particularly
strict in requiring from his followers that they should wear the tartan
striped in the mode peculiar to their race; a mark of distinction
anciently general through the Highlands, and still maintained by those
chiefs who were proud of their lineage, or jealous of their separate and
exclusive authority.
Edward had lived at Glennaquoich long enough to be aware of a
distinction which he had repeatedly heard noticed; and now satisfied
that he had no interest with his attendants, he glanced a disconsolate
eye around the interior of the cabin. The only furniture, excepting a
washing-tub, and a wooden press, called in Scotland an AMBRY, sorely
decayed, was a large wooden bed, planked, as is usual, all around, and
opening by a sliding panel. In this recess the Highlanders deposited
Waverley, after he had by signs declined any refreshment. His slumbers
were broken and unrefreshing; strange visions passed before his eyes,
and it required constant and reiterated efforts of mind to dispel them.
Shivering, violent headache, and shooting pains in his limbs, succeeded
these symptoms; and in the morning it was evident to his Highland
attendants or guard, for he knew not in which light to consider them,
that Waverley was quite unfit to travel. After a long consultation
among themselves, six of the party left the hut with their arms, leaving
behind an old and a young man. The former addressed Waverley, and bathed
the contusions, which swelling and livid colour now made conspicuous.
His own portmanteau, which the Highlanders had not failed to bring off,
supplied him with linen, and, to his great surprise, was, with all its
undiminished contents, freely resigned to his use. The bedding of his
couch seemed clean and comfortable, and his aged attendant closed the
door of the bed, for it had no curtain, after a few words of Gaelic,
from which Waverley gathered that he exhorted him to repose. So behold
our hero for a second time the patient of a Highland Aesculapius, but
in a situation much more uncomfortable than when he was the guest of the
worthy Tomanrait.
The symptomatic fever which accompanied the injuries he had sustained
did not abate till the third day, when it gave way to the care of his
attendants and the strength of his constitution, and he could now raise
himself in his bed, though not without pain. He observed, however, that
there was a great disinclination, on the part of the old woman who acted
as his nurse, as well as on that of the elderly Highlander, to permit
the door of the bed to be left open, so that he might amuse himself with
observing their motions; and at length, after Waverley had repeatedly
drawn open, and they had as frequently shut, the hatchway of his cage,
the old gentleman put an end to the contest, by securing it on the
outside with a nail, so effectually that the door could not be drawn
till this exterior impediment was removed.
While musing upon the cause of this contradictory spirit in persons
whose conduct intimated no purpose of plunder, and who, in all other
points, appeared to consult his welfare and his wishes, it occurred to
our hero, that, during the worst crisis of his illness, a female figure,
younger than his old Highland nurse, had appeared to flit around his
couch. Of this, indeed, he had but a very indistinct recollection, but
his suspicions were confirmed when, attentively listening, he often
heard, in the course of the day, the voice of another female conversing
in whispers with his attendant. Who could it be? And why should she
apparently desire concealment? Fancy immediately roused herself, and
turned to Flora Mac-Ivor. But after a short conflict between his eager
desire to believe she was in his neighbourhood, guarding, like an angel
of mercy, the couch of his sickness, Waverley was compelled to conclude
that his conjecture was altogether improbable; since, to suppose she had
left the comparatively safe situation at Glennaquoich to descend into
the Low Country, now the seat of civil war, and to inhabit such a
lurking-place as this, was a thing hardly to be imagined. Yet his heart
bounded as he sometimes could distinctly hear the trip of a light female
step glide to or from the door of the hut, or the suppressed sounds of
a female voice, of softness and delicacy, hold dialogue with the hoarse
inward croak of old Janet, for so he understood his antiquated attendant
was denominated.
Having nothing else to amuse his solitude, he employed himself in
contriving some plan to gratify his curiosity, in spite of the sedulous
caution of Janet and the old Highland janizary, for he had never seen
the young fellow since the first morning. At length, upon accurate
examination, the infirm state of his wooden prison-house appeared to
supply the means of gratifying his curiosity, for out of a spot which
was somewhat decayed he was able to extract a nail. Through this minute
aperture he could perceive a female form, wrapped in a plaid, in the act
of conversing with Janet. But, since the days of our grandmother Eve,
the gratification of inordinate curiosity has generally borne its
penalty in disappointment. The form was not that of Flora, nor was the
face visible; and, to crown his vexation, while he laboured with the
nail to enlarge the hole, that he might obtain a more complete view,
a slight noise betrayed his purpose, and the object of his curiosity
instantly disappeared; nor, so far as he could observe, did she again
revisit the cottage.
All precautions to blockade his view were from that time abandoned, and
he was not only permitted, but assisted to rise and quit what had been,
in a literal sense, his couch of confinement. But he was not allowed to
leave the hut; for the young Highlander had now rejoined his senior, and
one or other was constantly on the watch. Whenever Waverley approached
the cottage door, the sentinel upon duty civilly, but resolutely, placed
himself against it and opposed his exit, accompanying his action with
signs which seemed to imply there was danger in the attempt, and an
enemy in the neighbourhood. Old Janet appeared anxious and upon the
watch; and Waverley, who had not yet recovered strength enough to
attempt to take his departure in spite of the opposition of his hosts,
was under the necessity of remaining patient. His fare was, in every
point of view, better than he could have conceived; for poultry,
and even wine, were no strangers to his table. The Highlanders never
presumed to eat with him, and unless in the circumstance of watching
him, treated him with great respect. His sole amusement was gazing from
the window, or rather the shapeless aperture which was meant to answer
the purpose of a window, upon large and rough brook, which raged and
foamed through a rocky channel, closely canopied with trees and bushes,
about ten feet beneath the site of his house of captivity.
Upon the sixth day of his confinement, Waverley found himself so well,
that he began to meditate his escape from this dull and miserable
prison-house, thinking any risk which he might incur in the attempt
preferable to the stupefying and intolerable uniformity of Janet's
retirement. The question indeed occurred, whither he was to direct his
course when again at his own disposal. Two schemes seemed practicable,
yet both attended with danger and difficulty. One was to go back to
Glennaquoich, and join Fergus Mac-Ivor, by whom he was sure to be kindly
received; and in the present state of his mind, the rigour with which
he had been treated fully absolved him, in his own eyes, from his
allegiance to the existing government. The other project was to
endeavour to attain a Scottish seaport, and thence to take shipping for
England. His mind wavered between these plans; and probably, if he
had effected his escape in the manner he proposed, he would have been
finally determined by the comparative facility by which either might
have been executed. But his fortune had settled that he was not to be
left to his option.
Upon the evening of the seventh day the door of the hut suddenly opened,
and two Highlanders entered, whom Waverley recognized as having been a
part of his original escort to this cottage. They conversed for a
short time with the old man and his companion, and then made Waverley
understand, by very significant signs, that he was to prepare to
accompany them. This was a joyful communication. What had already passed
during his confinement made it evident that no personal injury was
designed to him; and his romantic spirit, having recovered during
his repose much of that elasticity which anxiety, resentment,
disappointment, and the mixture of unpleasant feelings excited by
his late adventures, had for a time subjugated, was now wearied with
inaction. His passion for the wonderful, although it is the nature of
such dispositions to be excited, by that degree of danger which merely
gives dignity to the feeling of the individual exposed to it, had sunk
under the extraordinary and apparently, insurmountable evils by which
he appeared environed at Cairnvreckan. In fact, this compound of intense
curiosity and exalted imagination forms a peculiar species of
courage, which somewhat resembles the light usually carried by a
miner,--sufficiently competent, indeed, to afford him guidance and
comfort during the ordinary perils of his labour, but certain to
be extinguished should he encounter the more formidable hazard of
earth-damps or pestiferous vapours. It was now, however, once more
rekindled, and with a throbbing mixture of hope, awe, and anxiety,
Waverley watched the group before him, as those who had just arrived
snatched a hasty meal, and the others assumed their arms, and made brief
preparations for their departure.
As he sat in the smoky hut, at some distance from the fire, around which
the others were crowded, he felt a gentle pressure upon his arm. He
looked round--it was Alice, the daughter of Donald Bean Lean. She showed
him a packet of papers in such a manner that the motion was remarked by
no one else, put her finger for a second to her lips, and passed on, as
if to assist old Janet in packing Waverley's clothes in his portmanteau.
It was obviously her wish that he should not seem to recognize her; yet
she repeatedly looked back at him, as an opportunity occurred of doing
so unobserved, and when she saw that he remarked what she did, she
folded the packet with great address and speed in one of his shirts,
which she deposited in the portmanteau.
Here then was fresh food for conjecture. Was Alice his unknown warden,
and was this maiden of the cavern the tutelar genius that watched his
bed during his sickness? Was he in the hands of her father? and if
so, what was his purpose? Spoil, his usual object, seemed in this case
neglected; for not only Waverley's property was restored, but his purse,
which might have tempted this professional plunderer, had been all along
suffered to remain in his possession. All this perhaps the packet might
explain; but it was plain from Alice's manner that she desired he should
consult it in secret. Nor did she again seek his eye after she had
satisfied herself that her manoeuvre was observed and understood. On the
contrary, she shortly afterwards left the hut, and it was only as she
tripped out from the door, that, favoured by the obscurity, she gave
Waverley a parting smile and nod of significance, ere she vanished in
the dark glen.
The young Highlander was repeatedly dispatched by his comrades as if to
collect intelligence. At length when he had returned for the third
or fourth time, the whole party arose, and made signs to our hero to
accompany them. Before his departure, however, he shook hands with old
Janet, who had been so sedulous in his behalf, and added substantial
marks of his gratitude for her attendance.
'God bless you! God prosper you, Captain Waverley!' said Janet, in good
Lowland Scotch, though he had never hitherto heard her utter a syllable,
save in Gaelic. But the impatience of his attendants prohibited his
asking any explanation.