It is not madness
That I have utter’d, bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word, which madness
Would gambol from.
Hamlet.
As Mr. Sampson crossed the hall with a bewildered look, Mrs. Allan, the
good housekeeper, who, with the reverent attention which is usually
rendered to the clergy in Scotland, was on the watch for his return,
sallied forth to meet him--‘What’s this o’t now, Mr. Sampson, this is
waur than ever! Ye’ll really do yoursell some injury wi’ these lang
fasts; naething’s sae hurtful to the stamach, Mr. Sampson. If ye would
but put some peppermint draps in your pocket, or let Barnes cut ye a
sandwich.’
‘Avoid thee!’ quoth the Dominie, his mind running still upon his
interview with Meg Merrilies, and making for the dining-parlour.
‘Na, ye needna gang in there, the cloth’s been removed an hour syne, and
the Colonel’s at his wine; but just step into my room, I have a nice
steak that the cook will do in a moment.’
‘Exorciso te!’ said Sampson; ‘that is, I have dined.’
‘Dined! it’s impossible; wha can ye hae dined wi’, you that gangs out nae
gate?’
‘With Beelzebub, I believe,’ said the minister.
‘Na, then he’s bewitched for certain,’ said the housekeeper, letting go
her hold; ‘he’s bewitched, or he’s daft, and ony way the Colonel maun
just guide him his ain gate. Wae’s me! Hech, sirs! It’s a sair thing to
see learning bring folk to this!’ And with this compassionate ejaculation
she retreated into her own premises.
The object of her commiseration had by this time entered the
dining-parlour, where his appearance gave great surprise. He was mud up
to the shoulders, and the natural paleness of his hue was twice as
cadaverous as usual, through terror, fatigue, and perturbation of mind.
‘What on earth is the meaning of this, Mr. Sampson?’ said Mannering, who
observed Miss Bertram looking much alarmed for her simple but attached
friend.
‘Exorciso,’ said the Dominie.
‘How, sir?’ replied the astonished Colonel.
‘I crave pardon, honourable sir! but my wits---’
‘Are gone a wool-gathering, I think; pray, Mr. Sampson, collect yourself,
and let me know the meaning of all this.’
Sampson was about to reply, but finding his Latin formula of exorcism
still came most readily to his tongue, he prudently desisted from the
attempt, and put the scrap of paper which he had received from the gipsy
into Mannering’s hand, who broke the seal and read it with surprise.
‘This seems to be some jest,’ he said, ‘and a very dull one.’
‘It came from no jesting person,’ said Mr. Sampson.
‘From whom then did it come?’ demanded Mannering.
The Dominie, who often displayed some delicacy of recollection in cases
where Miss Bertram had an interest, remembered the painful circumstances
connected with Meg Merrilies, looked at the young ladies, and remained
silent. ‘We will join you at the tea-table in an instant, Julia,’ said
the Colonel; ‘I see that Mr. Sampson wishes to speak to me alone. And now
they are gone, what, in Heaven’s name, Mr. Sampson, is the meaning of all
this?’
‘It may be a message from Heaven,’ said the Dominie, ‘but it came by
Beelzebub’s postmistress. It was that witch, Meg Merrilies, who should
have been burned with a tar-barrel twenty years since for a harlot,
thief, witch, and gipsy.’
‘Are you sure it was she?’ said the Colonel with great interest.
‘Sure, honoured sir? Of a truth she is one not to be forgotten, the like
o’ Meg Merrilies is not to be seen in any land.’
The Colonel paced the room rapidly, cogitating with himself. ‘To send out
to apprehend her; but it is too distant to send to Mac-Morlan, and Sir
Robert Hazlewood is a pompous coxcomb; besides, the chance of not finding
her upon the spot, or that the humour of silence that seized her before
may again return. No, I will not, to save being thought a fool, neglect
the course she points out. Many of her class set out by being impostors
and end by becoming enthusiasts, or hold a kind of darkling conduct
between both lines, unconscious almost when they are cheating themselves
or when imposing on others. Well, my course is a plain one at any rate;
and if my efforts are fruitless, it shall not be owing to over-jealousy
of my own character for wisdom.’
With this he rang the bell, and, ordering Barnes into his private
sitting-room, gave him some orders, with the result of which the reader
may be made hereafter acquainted.
We must now take up another adventure, which is also to be woven into the
story of this remarkable day.
Charles Hazlewood had not ventured to make a visit at Woodbourne during
the absence of the Colonel. Indeed, Mannering’s whole behaviour had
impressed upon him an opinion that this would be disagreeable; and such
was the ascendency which the successful soldier and accomplished
gentleman had attained over the young man’s conduct, that in no respect
would he have ventured to offend him. He saw, or thought he saw, in
Colonel Mannering’s general conduct, an approbation of his attachment to
Miss Bertram. But then he saw still more plainly the impropriety of any
attempt at a private correspondence, of which his parents could not be
supposed to approve, and he respected this barrier interposed betwixt
them both on Mannering’s account and as he was the liberal and zealous
protector of Miss Bertram. ‘No,’ said he to himself, ‘I will not endanger
the comfort of my Lucy’s present retreat until I can offer her a home of
her own.’
With this valorous resolution, which he maintained although his horse,
from constant habit, turned his head down the avenue of Woodbourne, and
although he himself passed the lodge twice every day, Charles Hazlewood
withstood a strong inclination to ride down just to ask how the young
ladies were, and whether he could be of any service to them during
Colonel Mannering’s absence. But on the second occasion he felt the
temptation so severe that he resolved not to expose himself to it a third
time; and, contenting himself with sending hopes and inquiries and so
forth to Woodbourne, he resolved to make a visit long promised to a
family at some distance, and to return in such time as to be one of the
earliest among Mannering’s visitors who should congratulate his safe
arrival from his distant and hazardous expedition to Edinburgh.
Accordingly he made out his visit, and, having arranged matters so as to
be informed within a few hours after Colonel Mannering reached home, he
finally resolved to take leave of the friends with whom he had spent the
intervening time, with the intention of dining at Woodbourne, where he
was in a great measure domesticated; and this (for he thought much more
deeply on the subject than was necessary) would, he flattered himself,
appear a simple, natural, and easy mode of conducting himself.
Fate, however, of which lovers make so many complaints, was in this case
unfavourable to Charles Hazlewood. His horse’s shoes required an
alteration, in consequence of the fresh weather having decidedly
commenced. The lady of the house where he was a visitor chose to indulge
in her own room till a very late breakfast hour. His friend also insisted
on showing him a litter of puppies which his favourite pointer bitch had
produced that morning. The colours had occasioned some doubts about the
paternity--a weighty question of legitimacy, to the decision of which
Hazlewood’s opinion was called in as arbiter between his friend and his
groom, and which inferred in its consequences which of the litter should
be drowned, which saved. Besides, the Laird himself delayed our young
lover’s departure for a considerable time, endeavouring, with long and
superfluous rhetoric, to insinuate to Sir Robert Hazlewood, through the
medium of his son, his own particular ideas respecting the line of a
meditated turnpike road. It is greatly to the shame of our young lover’s
apprehension that, after the tenth reiterated account of the matter, he
could not see the advantage to be obtained by the proposed road passing
over the Lang Hirst, Windy Knowe, the Goodhouse Park, Hailziecroft, and
then crossing the river at Simon’s Pool, and so by the road to
Kippletringan; and the less eligible line pointed out by the English
surveyor, which would go clear through the main enclosures at Hazlewood,
and cut within a mile or nearly so of the house itself, destroying the
privacy and pleasure, as his informer contended, of the grounds. In
short, the adviser (whose actual interest was to have the bridge built as
near as possible to a farm of his own) failed in every effort to attract
young Hazlewood’s attention until he mentioned by chance that the
proposed line was favoured by ‘that fellow Glossin,’ who pretended to
take a lead in the county. On a sudden young Hazlewood became attentive
and interested; and, having satisfied himself which was the line that
Glossin patronised, assured his friend it should not be his fault if his
father did not countenance any other instead of that. But these various
interruptions consumed the morning. Hazlewood got on horseback at least
three hours later than he intended, and, cursing fine ladies, pointers,
puppies, and turnpike acts of parliament, saw himself detained beyond the
time when he could with propriety intrude upon the family at Woodbourne.
He had passed, therefore, the turn of the road which led to that mansion,
only edified by the distant appearance of the blue smoke curling against
the pale sky of the winter evening, when he thought he beheld the Dominie
taking a footpath for the house through the woods. He called after him,
but in vain; for that honest gentleman, never the most susceptible of
extraneous impressions, had just that moment parted from Meg Merrilies,
and was too deeply wrapt up in pondering upon her vaticinations to make
any answer to Hazlewood’s call. He was therefore obliged to let him
proceed without inquiry after the health of the young ladies, or any
other fishing question, to which he might by good chance have had an
answer returned wherein Miss Bertram’s name might have been mentioned.
All cause for haste was now over, and, slackening the reins upon his
horse’s neck, he permitted the animal to ascend at his own leisure the
steep sandy track between two high banks, which, rising to a considerable
height, commanded at length an extensive view of the neighbouring
country.
Hazlewood was, however, so far from eagerly looking forward to this
prospect, though it had the recommendation that great part of the land
was his father’s, and must necessarily be his own, that his head still
turned backward towards the chimneys of Woodbourne, although at every
step his horse made the difficulty of employing his eyes in that
direction become greater. From the reverie in which he was sunk he was
suddenly roused by a voice, too harsh to be called female, yet too shrill
for a man: ‘What’s kept you on the road sae lang? Maun ither folk do your
wark?’
He looked up. The spokeswoman was very tall, had a voluminous
handkerchief rolled round her head, grizzled hair flowing in elf-locks
from beneath it, a long red cloak, and a staff in her hand, headed with a
sort of spear-point; it was, in short, Meg Merrilies. Hazlewood had never
seen this remarkable figure before; he drew up his reins in astonishment
at her appearance, and made a full stop. ‘I think,’ continued she, ‘they
that hae taen interest in the house of Ellangowan suld sleep nane this
night; three men hae been seeking ye, and you are gaun hame to sleep in
your bed. D’ ye think if the lad-bairn fa’s, the sister will do weel? Na,
na!’
‘I don’t understand you, good woman,’ said Hazlewood. ‘If you speak of
Miss---, I mean of any of the late Ellangowan family, tell me what I can
do for them.’
‘Of the late Ellangowan family?’ she answered with great vehemence--‘of
the LATE Ellangowan family! and when was there ever, or when will there
ever be, a family of Ellangowan but bearing the gallant name of the bauld
Bertrams?’
‘But what do you mean, good woman?’
‘I am nae good woman; a’ the country kens I am bad eneugh, and baith they
and I may be sorry eneugh that I am nae better. But I can do what good
women canna, and daurna do. I can do what would freeze the blood o’ them
that is bred in biggit wa’s for naething but to bind bairns’ heads and to
hap them in the cradle. Hear me: the guard’s drawn off at the
custom-house at Portanferry, and it’s brought up to Hazlewood House by
your father’s orders, because he thinks his house is to be attacked this
night by the smugglers. There’s naebody means to touch his house; he has
gude blood and gentle blood--I say little o’ him for himsell--but there’s
naebody thinks him worth meddling wi’. Send the horsemen back to their
post, cannily and quietly; see an they winna hae wark the night, ay will
they: the guns will flash and the swords will glitter in the braw moon.’
‘Good God! what do you mean?’ said young Hazlewood; ‘your words and
manner would persuade me you are mad, and yet there is a strange
combination in what you say.’
‘I am not mad!’ exclaimed the gipsy; ‘I have been imprisoned for
mad--scourged for mad--banished for mad--but mad I am not. Hear ye,
Charles Hazlewood of Hazlewood: d’ye bear malice against him that wounded
you?’
‘No, dame, God forbid; my arm is quite well, and I have always said the
shot was discharged by accident. I should be glad to tell the young man
so himself.’
‘Then do what I bid ye,’ answered Meg Merrilies, ‘and ye ‘ll do him mair
gude than ever he did you ill; for if he was left to his ill-wishers he
would be a bloody corpse ere morn, or a banished man; but there’s Ane
abune a’. Do as I bid you; send back the soldiers to Portanferry. There’s
nae mair fear o’ Hazlewood House than there’s o’ Cruffel Fell.’ And she
vanished with her usual celerity of pace.
It would seem that the appearance of this female, and the mixture of
frenzy and enthusiasm in her manner, seldom failed to produce the
strongest impression upon those whom she addressed. Her words, though
wild, were too plain and intelligible for actual madness, and yet too
vehement and extravagant for sober-minded communication. She seemed
acting under the influence of an imagination rather strongly excited than
deranged; and it is wonderful how palpably the difference in such cases
is impressed upon the mind of the auditor. This may account for the
attention with which her strange and mysterious hints were heard and
acted upon. It is certain, at least, that young Hazlewood was strongly
impressed by her sudden appearance and imperative tone. He rode to
Hazlewood at a brisk pace. It had been dark for some time before he
reached the house, and on his arrival there he saw a confirmation of what
the sibyl had hinted.
Thirty dragoon horses stood under a shed near the offices, with their
bridles linked together. Three or four soldiers attended as a guard,
while others stamped up and down with their long broadswords and heavy
boots in front of the house. Hazlewood asked a non-commissioned officer
from whence they came.
‘From Portanferry.’
‘Had they left any guard there?’
‘No; they had been drawn off by order of Sir Robert Hazlewood for defence
of his house against an attack which was threatened by the smugglers.’
Charles Hazlewood instantly went in quest of his father, and, having paid
his respects to him upon his return, requested to know upon what account
he had thought it necessary to send for a military escort. Sir Robert
assured his son in reply that, from the information, intelligence, and
tidings which had been communicated to, and laid before him, he had the
deepest reason to believe, credit, and be convinced that a riotous
assault would that night be attempted and perpetrated against Hazlewood
House by a set of smugglers, gipsies, and other desperadoes.
‘And what, my dear sir,’ said his son, ‘should direct the fury of such
persons against ours rather than any other house in the country?’
‘I should rather think, suppose, and be of opinion, sir,’ answered Sir
Robert, ‘with deference to your wisdom and experience, that on these
occasions and times the vengeance of such persons is directed or levelled
against the most important and distinguished in point of rank, talent,
birth, and situation who have checked, interfered with, and
discountenanced their unlawful and illegal and criminal actions or
deeds.’
Young Hazlewood, who knew his father’s foible, answered, that the cause
of his surprise did not lie where Sir Robert apprehended, but that he
only wondered they should think of attacking a house where there were so
many servants, and where a signal to the neighbouring tenants could call
in such strong assistance; and added, that he doubted much whether the
reputation of the family would not in some degree suffer from calling
soldiers from their duty at the custom-house to protect them, as if they
were not sufficiently strong to defend themselves upon any ordinary
occasion. He even hinted that, in case their house’s enemies should
observe that this precaution had been taken unnecessarily, there would be
no end of their sarcasms.
Sir Robert Hazlewood was rather puzzled at this intimation, for, like
most dull men, he heartily hated and feared ridicule. He gathered himself
up and looked with a sort of pompous embarrassment, as if he wished to be
thought to despise the opinion of the public, which in reality he
dreaded.
‘I really should have thought,’ he said, ‘that the injury which had
already been aimed at my house in your person, being the next heir and
representative of the Hazlewood family, failing me--I should have thought
and believed, I say, that this would have justified me sufficiently in
the eyes of the most respectable and the greater part of the people for
taking such precautions as are calculated to prevent and impede a
repetition of outrage.’
‘Really, sir,’ said Charles, ‘I must remind you of what I have often said
before, that I am positive the discharge of the piece was accidental.’
‘Sir, it was not accidental,’ said his father, angrily; ‘but you will be
wiser than your elders.’
‘Really, sir,’ replied Hazlewood, ‘in what so intimately concerns
myself---’
‘Sir, it does not concern you but in a very secondary degree; that is, it
does not concern you, as a giddy young fellow who takes pleasure in
contradicting his father; but it concerns the country, sir, and the
county, sir, and the public, sir, and the kingdom of Scotland, in so far
as the interest of the Hazlewood family, sir, is committed and interested
and put in peril, in, by, and through you, sir. And the fellow is in safe
custody, and Mr. Glossin thinks---’
‘Mr. Glossin, sir?’
‘Yes, sir, the gentleman who has purchased Ellangowan; you know who I
mean, I suppose?’
‘Yes, sir,’ answered the young man; ‘but I should hardly have expected to
hear you quote such authority. Why, this fellow--all the world knows him
to be sordid, mean, tricking, and I suspect him to be worse. And you
yourself, my dear sir, when did you call such a person a gentleman in
your life before?’
‘Why, Charles, I did not mean gentleman in the precise sense and meaning,
and restricted and proper use, to which, no doubt, the phrase ought
legitimately to be confined; but I meant to use it relatively, as marking
something of that state to which he has elevated and raised himself; as
designing, in short, a decent and wealthy and estimable sort of a
person.’
‘Allow me to ask, sir,’ said Charles, ‘if it was by this man’s orders
that the guard was drawn from Portanferry?’
‘Sir,’ replied the Baronet, ‘I do apprehend that Mr. Glossin would not
presume to give orders, or even an opinion, unless asked, in a matter in
which Hazlewood House and the house of Hazlewood--meaning by the one this
mansion-house of my family, and by the other, typically, metaphorically,
and parabolically, the family itself,--I say, then, where the house of
Hazlewood, or Hazlewood House, was so immediately concerned.’
‘I presume, however, sir,’ said the son, ‘this Glossin approved of the
proposal?’
‘Sir,’ replied his father, ‘I thought it decent and right and proper to
consult him as the nearest magistrate as soon as report of the intended
outrage reached my ears; and although he declined, out of deference and
respect, as became our relative situations, to concur in the order, yet
he did entirely approve of my arrangement.’
At this moment a horse’s feet were heard coming very fast up the avenue.
In a few minutes the door opened, and Mr. Mac-Morlan presented himself.
‘I am under great concern to intrude, Sir Robert, but---’
‘Give me leave, Mr. Mac-Morlan,’ said Sir Robert, with a gracious
flourish of welcome; ‘this is no intrusion, sir; for, your situation as
sheriff-substitute calling upon you to attend to the peace of the county,
and you, doubtless, feeling yourself particularly called upon to protect
Hazlewood House, you have an acknowledged and admitted and undeniable
right, sir, to enter the house of the first gentleman in Scotland
uninvited--always presuming you to be called there by the duty of your
office.’
‘It is indeed the duty of my office,’ said Mac-Morlan, who waited with
impatience an opportunity to speak, ‘that makes me an intruder.’
‘No intrusion!’ reiterated the Baronet, gracefully waving his hand.
‘But permit me to say, Sir Robert,’ said the sheriff-substitute, ‘I do
not come with the purpose of remaining here, but to recall these soldiers
to Portanferry, and to assure you that I will answer for the safety of
your house.’
‘To withdraw the guard from Hazlewood House!’ exclaimed the proprietor in
mingled displeasure and surprise; ‘and YOU will be answerable for it!
And, pray, who are you, sir, that I should take your security and caution
and pledge, official or personal, for the safety of Hazlewood House? I
think, sir, and believe, sir, and am of opinion, sir, that if any one of
these family pictures were deranged or destroyed or injured it would be
difficult for me to make up the loss upon the guarantee which you so
obligingly offer me.’
‘In that case I shall be sorry for it, Sir Robert,’ answered the
downright Mac-Morlan; ‘but I presume I may escape the pain of feeling my
conduct the cause of such irreparable loss, as I can assure you there
will be no attempt upon Hazlewood House whatever, and I have received
information which induces me to suspect that the rumour was put afloat
merely in order to occasion the removal of the soldiers from Portanferry.
And under this strong belief and conviction I must exert my authority as
sheriff and chief magistrate of police to order the whole, or greater
part of them, back again. I regret much that by my accidental absence a
good deal of delay has already taken place, and we shall not now reach
Portanferry until it is late.’
As Mr. Mac-Morlan was the superior magistrate, and expressed himself
peremptory in the purpose of acting as such, the Baronet, though highly
offended, could only say, ‘Very well, sir; it is very well. Nay, sir,
take them all with you; I am far from desiring any to be left here, sir.
We, sir, can protect ourselves, sir. But you will have the goodness to
observe, sir, that you are acting on your own proper risk, sir, and
peril, sir, and responsibility, sir, if anything shall happen or befall
to Hazlewood House, sir, or the inhabitants, sir, or to the furniture and
paintings, sir.’
‘I am acting to the best of my judgment and information, Sir Robert,’
said Mac-Morlan, ‘and I must pray of you to believe so, and to pardon me
accordingly. I beg you to observe it is no time for ceremony; it is
already very late.’
But Sir Robert, without deigning to listen to his apologies, immediately
employed himself with much parade in arming and arraying his domestics.
Charles Hazlewood longed to accompany the military, which were about to
depart for Portanferry, and which were now drawn up and mounted by
direction and under the guidance of Mr. Mac-Morlan, as the civil
magistrate. But it would have given just pain and offence to his father
to have left him at a moment when he conceived himself and his
mansion-house in danger. Young Hazlewood therefore gazed from a window
with suppressed regret and displeasure, until he heard the officer give
the word of command--‘From the right to the front, by files, m-a-rch.
Leading file, to the right wheel. Trot.’ The whole party of soldiers then
getting into a sharp and uniform pace, were soon lost among the trees,
and the noise of the hoofs died speedily away in the distance.