MORE EXPLANATION
With the first dawn of the day, old Janet was scuttling about the house
to wake the Baron, who usually slept sound and heavily.
'I must go back,' he said to Waverley, to my cove: will you walk down
the glen wi' me?'
They went out together, and followed a narrow and entangled footpath,
which the occasional passage of anglers, or wood-cutters, had traced by
the side of the stream. On their way, the Baron explained to Waverley,
that he would be under no danger in remaining a day or two at
Tully-Veolan, and even in being seen walking about, if he used the
precaution of pretending that he was looking at the estate as agent or
surveyor for an English gentleman, who designed to be purchaser. With
this view, he recommended to him to visit the Bailie, who still lived at
the factor's house, called Little Veolan, about a mile from the village,
though he was to remove at next term. Stanley's passport would be an
answer to the officer who commanded the military; and as to any of the
country people who might recognize Waverley the Baron assured him that
he was in no danger of being betrayed by them.
'I believe,' said the old man, 'half the people of the barony know that
their poor auld laird is somewhere hereabout; for I see they do not
suffer a single bairn to come here a bird-nesting--a practice whilk,
when I was in full possession of my power as baron, I was unable totally
to inhibit. Nay, I often find bits of things in my way, that the poor
bodies, God help them! leave there, because they think they may be
useful to me. I hope they will get a wiser master, and as kind a one as
I was.'
A natural sigh closed the sentence; but the quiet equanimity with which
the Baron endured his misfortunes, had something in it venerable, and
even sublime. There was no fruitless repining, no turbid melancholy; he
bore his lot, and the hardships which it involved, with a good-humoured,
though serious composure, and used no violent language against the
prevailing party.
'I did what I thought my duty,' said the good old man, 'and questionless
they are doing what they think theirs. It grieves me sometimes to look
upon these blackened walls of the house of my ancestors; but doubtless
officers cannot always keep the soldier's hand from depredation and
spuilzie; and Gustavus Adolphus himself, as ye may read in Colonel Munro
his Expedition with the worthy Scotch regiment called Mackay's regiment,
did often permit it.--Indeed I have myself seen as sad sights as
Tully-Veolan now is, when I served with the Mareschal Duke of Berwick.
To be sure, we may say with Virgilius Maro, FUIMUS TROES--and there's
the end of an auld sang. But houses and families and men have a' stood
lang eneugh when they have stood till they fall with honour; and now
I hae gotten a house that is not unlike a DOMUS ULTIMA'--they were now
standing below a steep rock. 'We poor Jacobites,' continued the Baron,
looking up, 'are now like the conies in Holy Scripture (which the great
traveller Pococke calleth Jerboa), a feeble people, that make our abode
in the rocks. So, fare you well, my good lad, till we meet at Janet's in
the even; for I must get into my Patmos, which is no easy matter for my
auld still limbs.'
With that he began to ascend the rock, striding, with the help of
his hands, from one precarious footstep to another, till he got about
half-way up, where two or three bushes concealed the mouth of a hole,
resembling an oven, into which the Baron insinuated, first his head and
shoulders, and then, by slow gradation, the rest of his long body; his
legs and feet finally disappearing, coiled up like a huge snake entering
his retreat, or a long pedigree introduced with care and difficulty into
the narrow pigeon-hole of an old cabinet. Waverley had the curiosity to
clamber up and look in upon him in his den, as the lurking-place might
well be termed. Upon the whole, he looked not unlike that ingenious
puzzle, called a reel in a bottle, the marvel of children (and of
some grown people too, myself for one), who can neither comprehend the
mystery how it was got in, or how it is to be taken out. The cave was
very narrow, too low in the roof to admit of his standing, or almost
of his sitting up, though he made some awkward attempts at the latter
posture. His sole amusement was the perusal of his old friend Titus
Livius, varied by occasionally scratching Latin proverbs and texts of
Scripture with his knife on the roof and walls of his fortalice, which
were of sandstone. As the cave was dry, and filled with clean straw and
withered fern, 'it made,' as he said, coiling himself up with an air
of snugness and comfort which contrasted strangely with his situation,
'unless when the wind was due north, a very passable GITE for an old
soldier.' Neither, as he observed, was he without sentries for the
purpose of reconnoitring. Davie and his mother were constantly on the
watch, to discover and avert danger; and it was singular what instances
of address seemed dictated by the instinctive attachment of the poor
simpleton, when his patron's safety was concerned.
With Janet, Edward now sought an interview. He had recognized her at
first sight as the old woman who had nursed him during his sickness
after his delivery from Gifted Gilfillan. The hut, also, though a little
repaired, and somewhat better furnished, was certainly the place of his
confinement; and he now recollected on the common moor of Tully-Veolan
the trunk of a large decayed tree, called the TRYSTING-TREE, which he
had no doubt was the same at which the Highlanders rendezvoused on that
memorable night. All this he had combined in his imagination the night
before; but reasons, which may probably occur to the reader, prevented
him from catechizing Janet in the presence of the Baron.
He now commenced the task in good earnest; and the first question was,
Who was the young lady that visited the hut during his illness? Janet
paused for a little; and then observed, that to keep the secret now,
would neither do good nor ill to anybody. 'It was just a leddy that
hasna her equal in the world--Miss Rose Bradwardine.'
'Then Miss Rose was probably also the author of my deliverance,'
inferred Waverley, delighted at the confirmation of an idea which local
circumstances had already induced him to entertain.
'I wot weel, Mr. Wauverley, and that was she e'en; but sair, sair angry
and affronted wad she hae been, puir thing, if she had thought ye had
been ever to ken a word about the matter; for she gar'd me speak aye
Gaelic when ye was in hearing, to mak ye trow we were in the Hielands. I
can speak it well eneugh, for my mother was a Hieland woman.'
A few more questions now brought out the whole mystery respecting
Waverley's deliverance from the bondage in which he left Cairnvreckan.
Never did music sound sweeter to an amateur, than the drowsy tautology,
with which old Janet detailed every circumstance, thrilled upon the
ears of Waverley. But my reader is not a lover, and I must spare his
patience, by attempting to condense within reasonable compass the
narrative which old Janet spread through a harangue of nearly two hours,
When Waverley communicated to Fergus the letter he had received from
Rose Bradwardine, by Davie Gellatley, giving an account of Tully-Veolan
being occupied by a small party of soldiers, that circumstance had
struck upon the busy and active mind of the Chieftain. Eager to
distress and narrow the posts of the enemy, desirous to prevent their
establishing a garrison so near him, and willing also to oblige the
Baron,--for he often had the idea of marriage with Rose floating through
his brain,--he resolved to send some of his people to drive out the
red-coats, and to bring Rose to Glennaquoich. But just as he had ordered
Evan with a small party on this duty, the news of Cope's having marched
into the Highlands to meet and disperse the forces of the Chevalier,
ere they came to a head, obliged him to join the standard with his whole
forces.
He sent to order Donald Bean to attend him; but that cautious
freebooter, who well understood the value of a separate command, instead
of joining, sent various apologies which the pressure of the times
compelled Fergus to admit as current, though not without the internal
resolution of being revenged on him for his procrastination, time and
place convenient. However, as he could not amend the matter, he issued
orders to Donald to descend into the Low Country, drive the soldiers
from Tully-Veolan, and, paying all respect to the mansion of the Baron,
to take his abode somewhere near it, for protection of his daughter and
family, and to harass and drive away any of the armed volunteers,
or small parties of military, which he might find moving about the
vicinity.
As this charge formed a sort of roving commission, which Donald proposed
to interpret in the way most advantageous to himself, as he was relieved
from the immediate terrors of Fergus, and as he had, from former secret
services, some interest in the councils of the Chevalier, he resolved to
make hay while the sun shone. He achieved, without difficulty, the
task of driving the soldiers from Tully-Veolan; but although he did not
venture to encroach upon the interior of the family, or to disturb
Miss Rose, being unwilling to make himself a powerful enemy in the
Chevalier's army,
For well he knew the Baron's wrath was deadly;
yet he set about to raise contributions and exactions upon the tenantry,
and otherwise to turn the war to his own advantage. Meanwhile he mounted
the white cockade, and waited upon Rose with a pretext of great devotion
for the service in which her father was engaged, and many apologies for
the freedom he must necessarily use for the support of his people. It
was at this moment that Rose learned, by open-mouthed fame, with
all sorts of exaggeration, that Waverley had killed the smith of
Cairnvreckan, in an attempt to arrest him; had been cast into a dungeon
by Major Melville of Cairnvreckan, and was to be executed by martial
law within three days. In the agony which these tidings excited, she
proposed to Donald Bean the rescue of the prisoner. It was the very
sort of service which he was desirous to undertake, judging it might
constitute a merit of such a nature as would make amends for any
peccadilloes which he might be guilty of in the country. He had the art,
however, pleading all the while duty and discipline, to hold off, until
poor Rose, in the extremity of her distress, offered to bribe him to the
enterprise with some valuable jewels which had been her mother's.
Donald Bean, who had served in France, knew, and perhaps over-estimated,
the value of these trinkets. But he also perceived Rose's apprehensions
of its being discovered that she had parted with her jewels for
Waverley's liberation. Resolved this scruple should not part him and
the treasure, he voluntarily offered to take an oath that he would never
mention Miss Rose's share in the transaction; and foreseeing convenience
in keeping the oath, and no probable advantage in breaking it, he took
the engagement--in order, as he told his lieutenant, to deal handsomely
by the young lady--in the only form and mode which, by a mental paction
with himself, he considered as binding--he swore secrecy upon his drawn
dirk. He was the more especially moved to this act of good faith by some
attentions that Miss Bradwardine showed to his daughter Alice, which,
while they gained the heart of the mountain damsel, highly gratified the
pride of her father. Alice, who could now speak a little English, was
very communicative in return for Rose's kindness, readily confided to
her the whole papers respecting the intrigue with Gardiner's regiment,
of which she was the depositary, and as readily undertook, at her
instance, to restore them to Waverley without her father's knowledge.
'For they may oblige the bonnie young lady and the handsome young
gentleman,' said Alice, 'and what use has my father for a whin bits o'
scarted paper?'
The reader is aware that she took an opportunity of executing this
purpose on the eve of Waverley's leaving the glen.
How Donald executed his enterprise, the reader is aware. But the
expulsion of the military from Tully-Veolan had given alarm, and, while
he was lying in wait for Gilfillan, a strong party, such as Donald did
not care to face, was sent to drive back the insurgents in their turn,
to encamp there, and to protect the country. The officer, a gentleman
and a disciplinarian, neither intruded himself on Miss Bradwardine,
whose unprotected situation he respected, nor permitted his soldiers
to commit any breach of discipline. He formed a little camp, upon an
eminence near the house of Tully-Veolan, and placed proper guards at the
passes in the vicinity. This unwelcome news reached Donald Bean Lean
as he was returning to Tully-Veolan. Determined, however, to obtain the
guerdon of his labour, he resolved, since approach to Tully-Veolan was
impossible; to deposit his prisoner in Janet's cottage--a place the very
existence of which could hardly have been suspected even by those who
had long lived In the vicinity, unless they had been guided thither, and
which was utterly unknown to Waverley himself. This effected, he claimed
and received his reward. Waverley's illness was an event which deranged
all their calculations. Donald was obliged to leave the neighbourhood
with his people, and to seek more free course for his adventures
elsewhere. At Rose's earnest entreaty, he left an old man, a herbalist,
who was supposed to understand a little of medicine, to attend Waverley
during his illness.
In the meanwhile, new and fearful doubts started in Rose's mind. They
were suggested by old Janet, who insisted, that a reward having been
offered for the apprehension of Waverley, and his own personal effects
being so valuable, there was no saying to what breach of faith Donald
might be tempted. In an agony of grief and terror, Rose took the daring
resolution of explaining to the Prince himself the danger in which Mr.
Waverley stood, judging that, both as a politician, and a man of honour
and humanity, Charles Edward would interest himself to prevent his
falling into the hands of the opposite party. This letter she at first
thought of sending anonymously, but naturally feared it would not, in
that case, be credited. She therefore subscribed her name, though with
reluctance and terror, and consigned it in charge to a young man, who,
at leaving his farm to join the Chevalier's army, made it his petition
to her to have some sort of credentials to the Adventurer, from whom he
hoped to obtain a commission.
The letter reached Charles Edward on his descent to the Lowlands, and,
aware of the political importance of having it supposed that he was in
correspondence with the English Jacobites, he caused the most positive
orders to be transmitted to Donald Bean Lean, to transmit Waverley, safe
and uninjured in person or effects, to the governor of Doune Castle. The
freebooter durst not disobey, for the army of the Prince was now so near
him that punishment might have followed; besides, he was a politician
as well as a robber, and was unwilling to cancel the interest created
through former secret services, by being refractory on this occasion.
He therefore made a virtue of necessity, and transmitted orders to his
lieutenant to convey Edward to Doune, which was safely accomplished
in the mode mentioned in a former chapter. The governor of Doune was
directed to send him to Edinburgh as a prisoner, because the Prince was
apprehensive that Waverley, if set at liberty, might have resumed his
purpose of returning to England, without affording him an opportunity
of a personal interview. In this, indeed, he acted by the advice of the
Chieftain of Glennaquoich, with whom it may be remembered the Chevalier
communicated upon the mode of disposing of Edward, though without
telling him how he came to learn the place of his confinement.
This, indeed, Charles Edward considered as a lady's secret; for although
Rose's letter was couched in the most cautious and general terms, and
professed to be written merely from motives of humanity, and zeal for
the Prince's service, yet she expressed so anxious a wish that she
should not be known to have interfered, that the Chevalier was induced
to suspect the deep interest which she took in Waverley's safety. This
conjecture, which was well founded, led, however, to false inferences.
For the emotion which Edward displayed on approaching Flora and Rose at
the ball of Holyrood, was placed by the Chevalier to the account of the
latter, and he concluded that the Baron's views about the settlement of
his property, or some such obstacle, thwarted their mutual inclinations.
Common fame, it is true, frequently gave Waverley to Miss Mac-Ivor; but
the Prince knew that common fame is very prodigal in such gifts; and,
watching attentively the behaviour of the ladies towards Waverley, he
had no doubt that the young Englishman had no interest with Flora,
and was beloved by Rose Bradwardine. Desirous to bind Waverley to his
service, and wishing also to do a kind and friendly action, the Prince
next assailed the Baron on the subject of settling his estate upon his
daughter. Mr. Bradwardine acquiesced; but the consequence was, that
Fergus was immediately induced to prefer his double suit for a wife and
an earldom, which the Prince rejected in the manner we have seen. The
Chevalier, constantly engaged in his own multiplied affairs, had not
hitherto sought any explanation with Waverley, though often meaning to
do so. But after Fergus's declaration, he saw the necessity of appearing
neutral between the rivals, devoutly hoping that the matter, which now
seemed fraught with the seeds of strife, might be permitted to lie over
till the termination of the expedition. When on the march to Derby,
Fergus, being questioned concerning his quarrel with Waverley, alleged
as the cause, that Edward was desirous of retracting the suit he made to
his sister, the Chevalier plainly told him, that he had himself observed
Miss Mac-Ivor's behaviour to Waverley, and that he was convinced Fergus
was under the influence of a mistake in judging of Waverley's conduct,
who, he had every reason to believe, was engaged to Miss Bradwardine.
The quarrel which ensued between Edward and the chieftain is, I hope,
still in the remembrance of the reader. These circumstances will serve
to explain such points of our narrative as, according to the custom of
story-tellers, we deemed it fit to leave unexplained, for the purpose of
exciting the reader's curiosity.
When Janet had once finished the leading facts of this narrative,
Waverley was easily enabled to apply the clue which they afforded,
to other mazes of the labyrinth in which he had been engaged. To Rose
Bradwardine, then, he owed the life which he now thought he could
willingly have laid down to serve her. A little reflection convinced
him, however, that to live for her sake was more convenient and
agreeable, and that, being possessed of independence, she might share
it with him either in foreign countries or in his own. The pleasure of
being allied to a man of the Baron's high worth, and who was so much
valued by his uncle Sir Everard, was also an agreeable consideration,
had anything been wanting to recommend the match. His absurdities, which
had appeared grotesquely ludicrous during his prosperity, seemed, in the
sunset of his fortune, to be harmonized and assimilated with the noble
features of his character, so as to add peculiarity without exciting
ridicule. His mind occupied with such projects of future happiness,
Edward sought Little Veolan, the habitation of Mr. Duncan Macwheeble.