CHAPTER XXXIII
A CONFIDANT
Waverley awoke in the morning, from troubled dreams and unrefreshingslumbers, to a full consciousness of the horrors of his situation. Howit might terminate he knew not. He might be delivered up to militarylaw, which, in the midst of civil war, was not likely to be scrupulousin the choice of its victims, or the quality of the evidence. Nor did hefeel much more comfortable at the thoughts of a trial before a Scottishcourt of justice, where he knew the laws and forms differed in manyrespects from those of England, and had been taught to believe, howevererroneously, that the liberty and rights of the subject were lesscarefully protected. A sentiment of bitterness rose in his mind againstthe Government, which he considered as the cause of his embarrassmentand peril, and he cursed internally his scrupulous rejection ofMac-Ivor's invitation to accompany him to the field.
'Why did not I,' he said to himself, 'like other men of honour, take theearliest opportunity to welcome to Britain the descendant of her ancientkings, and lineal heir of her throne? Why did not I
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith, Seek out Prince Charles, and fall before his feet?
All that has been recorded of excellence and worth in the house ofWaverley has been founded upon their loyal faith to the house of Stuart.From the interpretation which this Scotch magistrate has put uponthe letters of my uncle and father, it is plain that I ought to haveunderstood them as marshalling me to the course of my ancestors; and ithas been my gross dullness, joined to the obscurity of expression whichthey adopted for the sake of security, that has confounded my judgement.Had I yielded to the first generous impulse of indignation when Ilearned that my honour was practised upon, how different had been mypresent situation! I had then been free and in arms, fighting, like myforefathers, for love, for loyalty, and for fame. And now I am here,netted and in the toils, at the disposal of a suspicious, stern,and cold-hearted man, perhaps to be turned over to the solitude of adungeon, or the infamy of a public execution. O Fergus! how true hasyour prophecy proved; and how speedy, how very speedy, has been itsaccomplishment!'
While Edward was ruminating on these painful subjects of contemplation,and very naturally, though not quite so justly, bestowing upon thereigning dynasty that blame which was due to chance, or, in part atleast, to his own unreflecting conduct, Mr. Morton availed himself ofMajor Melville's permission to pay him an early visit.
Waverley's first impulse was to intimate a desire that he might notbe disturbed with questions or conversation; but he suppressed it uponobserving the benevolent and reverend appearance of the clergyman whohad rescued him from the immediate violence of the villagers.
'I believe, sir,' said the unfortunate young man, 'that in any othercircumstances I should have had as much gratitude to express to you asthe safety of my life may be worth; but such is the present tumult ofmy mind, and such is my anticipation of what I am yet likely to endure,that I can hardly offer you thanks for your interposition.'
Mr. Morton replied, that, far from making any claim upon his goodopinion, his only wish and the sole purpose of his visit was to findout the means of deserving it. 'My excellent friend, Major Melville,' hecontinued, 'has feelings and duties as a soldier and public functionary,by which I am not fettered; nor can I always coincide in opinions whichhe forms, perhaps with too little allowance for the imperfections ofhuman nature. He paused, and then proceeded: 'I do not intrude myselfon your confidence, Mr. Waverley, for the purpose of learning anycircumstances, the knowledge of which can be prejudicial either toyourself or to others; but I own my earnest wish is, that you wouldentrust me with any particulars which could lead to your exculpation. Ican solemnly assure you they will be deposited with a faithful, and, tothe extent of his limited powers, a zealous agent.'
'You are, sir, I presume, a Presbyterian clergyman?'--Mr. Mortonbowed.--'Were I to be guided by the prepossessions of education, I mightdistrust your friendly professions in my case; but I have observedthat similar prejudices are nourished in this country against yourprofessional brethren of the Episcopal persuasion, and I am willing tobelieve them equally unfounded in both cases.'
'Evil to him that thinks otherwise,' said Mr. Morton; 'or who holdschurch government and ceremonies as the exclusive gage of Christianfaith or moral virtue.'
'But,' continued Waverley, 'I cannot perceive why I should trouble youwith a detail of particulars, out of which, after revolving them ascarefully as possible in my recollection, I find myself unable toexplain much of what is charged against me. I know, indeed, that I aminnocent, but I hardly see how I can hope to prove myself so.'
'It is for that very reason, Mr. Waverley,' said the clergyman, 'that Iventure to solicit your confidence. My knowledge of individuals inthis country is pretty general, and can upon occasion be extended.Your situation will, I fear, preclude you taking those active steps forrecovering intelligence, or tracing imposture, which I would willinglyundertake in your behalf; and if you are not benefited by my exertions,at least they cannot be prejudicial to you.'
Waverley, after a few minutes' reflection, was convinced that hisreposing confidence in Mr. Morton, so far as he himself was concerned,could hurt neither Mr. Bradwardine nor Fergus Mac-Ivor, both of whom hadopenly assumed arms against the Government, and that it might possibly,if the professions of his new friend corresponded in sincerity withthe earnestness of his expression, be of some service to himself. Hetherefore ran briefly over most of the events with which the readeris already acquainted, suppressing his attachment to Flora, and indeedneither mentioning her nor Rose Bradwardine in the course of hisnarrative.
Mr. Morton seemed particularly struck with the account of Waverley'svisit to Donald Bean Lean. 'I am glad,' he said, 'you did not mentionthis circumstance to the Major. It is capable of great misconstructionon the part; of those who do not consider the power of curiosity and theinfluence of romance as motives of youthful conduct. When I was a youngman like you, Mr. Waverley, any such hair-brained expedition (I beg yourpardon for the expression) would have had inexpressible charms for me.But there are men in the world who will not believe that dangerand fatigue are often incurred without any very adequate cause, andtherefore who are sometimes led to assign motives of action entirelyforeign to the truth. This man Bean Lean is renowned through the countryas a sort of Robin Hood, and the stories which are told of his addressand enterprise are the common tales of the winter fireside. He certainlypossesses talents beyond the rude sphere in which he moves; and, beingneither destitute of ambition nor encumbered with scruples, he willprobably attempt, by every means, to distinguish himself during theperiod of these unhappy commotions.' Mr. Morton then made a carefulmemorandum of the various particulars of Waverley's interview withDonald Bean Lean, and the other circumstances which he had communicated.
The interest which this good man seemed to take in hismisfortunes,--above all, the full confidence he appeared to repose inhis innocence,--had the natural effect of softening Edward's heart, whomthe coldness of Major Melville had taught to believe that the worldwas leagued to oppress him. He shook Mr. Morton warmly by the hand, andassuring him that his kindness and sympathy had relieved his mind of aheavy load, told him, that whatever might be his own fate, he belongedto a family who had both gratitude and the power of displaying it.
The earnestness of his thanks called drops to the eyes of the worthyclergyman, who was doubly interested in the cause for which he hadvolunteered his services, by observing the genuine and undissembledfeelings of his young friend.
Edward now inquired if Mr. Morton knew what was likely to be hisdestination.
'Stirling Castle,' replied his friend; 'and so far I am well pleasedfor your sake, for the governor is a man of honour and humanity. ButI am more doubtful of your treatment upon the road; Major Melville isinvoluntarily obliged to entrust the custody of your person to another.'
'I am glad of it,' answered Waverley. 'I detest that cold-bloodedcalculating Scotch magistrate. I hope he
and I shall never meet more:he had neither sympathy with my innocence nor my wretchedness; and thepetrifying accuracy with which he attended to every form of civility,while he tortured me by his questions, his suspicions, and hisinferences, was as tormenting as the racks of the Inquisition. Do notvindicate him, my dear sir, for that I cannot bear with patience; tellme rather who is to have the charge of so important a state prisoner asI am.'
'I believe a person called Gilfillan, one of the sect who are termedCameronians.'
'I never heard of them before.'
'They claim,' said the clergyman, 'to represent the more strict andsevere Presbyterians, who in Charles Second's and James Second's days,refused to profit by the Toleration, or Indulgence, as it was called,which was extended to others of that religion. They held conventicles inthe open fields, and being treated, with great violence and cruelty bythe Scottish government, more than once took arms during those reigns.They take their name from their leader, Richard Cameron.
'I recollect,' said Waverley; 'but did not the triumph of Presbytery atthe Revolution extinguish that sect?'
'By no means,' replied Morton; 'that great event fell yet far shortof what they proposed, which was nothing less than the completeestablishment of the Presbyterian Church, upon the grounds of the oldSolemn League and Covenant. Indeed, I believe they scarce knew what theywanted; but being a numerous body of men, and not unacquainted with theuse of arms, they kept themselves together as a separate party in thestate, and at the time of the Union had nearly formed a most unnaturalleague with their old enemies, the Jacobites, to oppose that importantnational measure. Since that time their numbers have graduallydiminished; but a good many are still to be found in the westerncounties, and several, with a better temper than in 1707, have now takenarms for Government, This person, whom they call Gifted Gilfillan, hasbeen long a leader among them, and now heads a small party, which willpass here to-day, or to-morrow, on their march towards Stirling, underwhose escort Major Melville proposes you shall travel. I would willinglyspeak to Gilfillan in your behalf; but, having deeply imbibed all theprejudices of his sect, and being of the same fierce disposition, hewould pay little regard to the remonstrances of an Erastian divine, ashe would politely term me.--And now, farewell, my young friend; for thepresent, I must not weary out the Major's indulgence, that I may obtainhis permission to visit you again in the course of the day.'