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 lan
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 foot-path, 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 Esculapius, 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 aroused 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 her 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 despite 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 a 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 recognised 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 were
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 recognise 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 tript 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 despatched 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 hithero heard her utter a
syllable, save in Gaelic. But the impatience of his attendants
prohibited his asking any explanation.