ROB ROY
By Sir Walter Scott
VOLUME TWO
Helen MacGregor--Frontispiece]
CHAPTER FIRST
And hurry, hurry, off they rode, As fast as fast might be; Hurra, hurra, the dead can ride, Dost fear to ride with me? Burger.
There is one advantage in an accumulation of evils, differing in causeand character, that the distraction which they afford by theircontradictory operation prevents the patient from being overwhelmed undereither. I was deeply grieved at my separation from Miss Vernon, yet notso much so as I should have been, had not my father's apprehendeddistresses forced themselves on my attention; and I was distressed by thenews of Mr. Tresham, yet less so than if they had fully occupied my mind.I was neither a false lover nor an unfeeling son; but man can give but acertain portion of distressful emotions to the causes which demand them;and if two operate at once, our sympathy, like the funds of a compoundingbankrupt, can only be divided between them. Such were my reflections whenI gained my apartment--it seems, from the illustration, they alreadybegan to have a twang of commerce in them.
I set myself seriously to consider your father's letter. It was not verydistinct, and referred for several particulars to Owen, whom I wasentreated to meet with as soon as possible at a Scotch town calledGlasgow; being informed, moreover, that my old friend was to be heard ofat Messrs. MacVittie, MacFin, and Company, merchants in the Gallowgate ofthe said town. It likewise alluded to several letters,--which, as itappeared to me, must have miscarried or have been intercepted, andcomplained of my obdurate silence, in terms which would have, been highlyunjust, had my letters reached their purposed destination. I was amazedas I read. That the spirit of Rashleigh walked around me, and conjured upthese doubts and difficulties by which I was surrounded, I could notdoubt for one instant; yet it was frightful to conceive the extent ofcombined villany and power which he must have employed in theperpetration of his designs. Let me do myself justice in one respect. Theevil of parting from Miss Vernon, however distressing it might in otherrespects and at another time have appeared to me, sunk into a subordinateconsideration when I thought of the dangers impending over my father. Idid not myself set a high estimation on wealth, and had the affectationof most young men of lively imagination, who suppose that they can betterdispense with the possession of money, than resign their time andfaculties to the labour necessary to acquire it. But in my father's case,I knew that bankruptcy would be considered as an utter and irretrievabledisgrace, to which life would afford no comfort, and death the speediestand sole relief.
My mind, therefore, was bent on averting this catastrophe, with anintensity which the interest could not have produced had it referred tomy own fortunes; and the result of my deliberation was a firm resolutionto depart from Osbaldistone Hall the next day and wend my way withoutloss of time to meet Owen at Glasgow. I did not hold it expedient tointimate my departure to my uncle, otherwise than by leaving a letter ofthanks for his hospitality, assuring him that sudden and importantbusiness prevented my offering them in person. I knew the blunt oldknight would readily excuse ceremony; and I had such a belief in theextent and decided character of Rashleigh's machinations, that I had someapprehension of his having provided means to intercept a journey whichwas undertaken with a view to disconcert them, if my departure werepublicly announced at Osbaldistone Hall.
I therefore determined to set off on my journey with daylight on theensuing morning, and to gain the neighbouring kingdom of Scotland beforeany idea of my departure was entertained at the Hall. But one impedimentof consequence was likely to prevent that speed which was the soul of myexpedition. I did not know the shortest, nor indeed any road to Glasgow;and as, in the circumstances in which I stood, despatch was of thegreatest consequence, I determined to consult Andrew Fairservice on thesubject, as the nearest and most authentic authority within my reach.Late as it was, I set off with the intention of ascertaining thisimportant point, and after a few minutes' walk reached the dwelling ofthe gardener.
Andrew's dwelling was situated at no great distance from the exteriorwall of the garden--a snug comfortable Northumbrian cottage, built ofstones roughly dressed with the hammer, and having the windows and doorsdecorated with huge heavy architraves, or lintels, as they are called, ofhewn stone, and its roof covered with broad grey flags, instead ofslates, thatch, or tiles. A jargonelle pear-tree at one end of thecottage, a rivulet and flower-plot of a rood in extent in front, and akitchen-garden behind; a paddock for a cow, and a small field, cultivatedwith several crops of grain, rather for the benefit of the cottager thanfor sale, announced the warm and cordial comforts which Old England, evenat her most northern extremity, extends to her meanest inhabitants.
As I approached the mansion of the sapient Andrew, I heard a noise,which, being of a nature peculiarly solemn, nasal, and prolonged, led meto think that Andrew, according to the decent and meritorious custom ofhis countrymen, had assembled some of his neighbours to join in familyexercise, as he called evening devotion. Andrew had indeed neither wife,child, nor female inmate in his family. "The first of his trade," hesaid, "had had eneugh o'thae cattle." But, notwithstanding, he sometimescontrived to form an audience for himself out of the neighbouring Papistsand Church-of-Englandmen--brands, as he expressed it, snatched out of theburning, on whom he used to exercise his spiritual gifts, in defiancealike of Father Vaughan, Father Docharty, Rashleigh, and all the world ofCatholics around him, who deemed his interference on such occasions anact of heretical interloping. I conceived it likely, therefore, that thewell-disposed neighbours might have assembled to hold some chapel of easeof this nature. The noise, however, when I listened to it moreaccurately, seemed to proceed entirely from the lungs of the said Andrew;and when I interrupted it by entering the house, I found Fairservicealone, combating as he best could, with long words and hard names, andreading aloud, for the purpose of his own edification, a volume ofcontroversial divinity.
"I was just taking a spell," said he, laying aside the huge folio volumeas I entered, "of the worthy Doctor Lightfoot."
"Lightfoot!" I replied, looking at the ponderous volume with somesurprise; "surely your author was unhappily named."
"Lightfoot was his name, sir; a divine he was, and another kind of adivine than they hae now-adays. Always, I crave your pardon for keepingye standing at the door, but having been mistrysted (gude preserve us!)with ae bogle the night already, I was dubious o' opening the yett till Ihad gaen through the e'ening worship; and I had just finished the fifthchapter of Nehemiah--if that winna gar them keep their distance, I wotnawhat will."
"Trysted with a bogle!" said I; "what do you mean by that, Andrew?"
"I said mistrysted," replied Andrew; "that is as muckle as to say, fley'dwi' a ghaist--Gude preserve us, I say again!"
"Flay'd by a ghost, Andrew! how am I to understand that?"
"I did not say flay'd," replied Andrew, "but _fley'd,_--that is, I got afleg, and was ready to jump out o' my skin, though naebody offered towhirl it aff my body as a man wad bark a tree."
"I beg a truce to your terrors in the present case, Andrew, and I wish toknow whether you can direct me the nearest way to a town in your countryof Scotland, called Glasgow?"
"A town ca'd Glasgow!" echoed Andrew Fairservice. "Glasgow's a ceety,man.--And is't the way to Glasgow ye were speering if I ken'd?--What suldail me to ken it?--it's no that dooms far frae my ain parish ofDreepdaily, that lies a bittock farther to the west. But what may yourhonour be gaun to Glasgow for?"
"Particular business," replied I.
"That's as muckle as to say, Speer nae questions, and I'll tell ye naelees.--To Glasgow?"--he made a short pause--"I am thinking ye wad be thebetter o' some ane to show you the road."
"Certainly, if I could meet with any person going that way."
"And your honour, doubtless, wad consider the time and trouble?"
"Unques
tionably--my business is pressing, and if you can find any guideto accompany me, I'll pay him handsomely."
"This is no a day to speak o' carnal matters," said Andrew, casting hiseyes upwards; "but if it werena Sabbath at e'en, I wad speer what ye wadbe content to gie to ane that wad bear ye pleasant company on the road,and tell ye the names of the gentlemen's and noblemen's seats andcastles, and count their kin to ye?"
"I tell you, all I want to know is the road I must travel; I will pay thefellow to his satisfaction--I will give him anything in reason."
"Onything," replied Andrew, "is naething; and this lad that I am speakingo' kens a' the short cuts and queer by-paths through the hills, and"--
"I have no time to talk about it, Andrew; do you make the bargain for meyour own way."
"Aha! that's speaking to the purpose," answered Andrew.--"I am thinking,since sae be that sae it is, I'll be the lad that will guide you mysell."
"You, Andrew?--how will you get away from your employment?"
"I tell'd your honour a while syne, that it was lang that I hae beenthinking o' flitting, maybe as lang as frae the first year I came toOsbaldistone Hall; and now I am o' the mind to gang in gudeearnest--better soon as syne--better a finger aff as aye wagging."
"You leave your service, then?--but will you not lose your wages?"
"Nae doubt there will be a certain loss; but then I hae siller o' thelaird's in my hands that I took for the apples in the auld orchyard--anda sair bargain the folk had that bought them--a wheen green trash--andyet Sir Hildebrand's as keen to hae the siller (that is, the steward isas pressing about it) as if they had been a' gowden pippins--and thenthere's the siller for the seeds--I'm thinking the wage will be in amanner decently made up.--But doubtless your honour will consider my riskof loss when we win to Glasgow--and ye'll be for setting out forthwith?"
"By day-break in the morning," I answered.
"That's something o' the suddenest--whare am I to find a naig?--Stay--Iken just the beast that will answer me."
"At five in the morning, then, Andrew, you will meet me at the head ofthe avenue."
"Deil a fear o' me (that I suld say sae) missing my tryste," repliedAndrew, very briskly; "and if I might advise, we wad be aff twa hoursearlier. I ken the way, dark or light, as weel as blind Ralph Ronaldson,that's travelled ower every moor in the country-side, and disna ken thecolour of a heather-cowe when a's dune."
I highly approved of Andrew's amendment on my original proposal, and weagreed to meet at the place appointed at three in the morning. At once,however, a reflection came across the mind of my intended travellingcompanion.
"The bogle! the bogle! what if it should come out upon us?--I downaforgather wi' thae things twice in the four-and-twenty hours."
"Pooh! pooh!" I exclaimed, breaking away from him, "fear nothing from thenext world--the earth contains living fiends, who can act for themselveswithout assistance, were the whole host that fell with Lucifer to returnto aid and abet them."
With these words, the import of which was suggested by my own situation,I left Andrew's habitation, and returned to the Hall.
I made the few preparations which were necessary for my proposed journey,examined and loaded my pistols, and then threw myself on my bed, toobtain, if possible, a brief sleep before the fatigue of a long andanxious journey. Nature, exhausted by the tumultuous agitations of theday, was kinder to me than I expected, and I stink into a deep andprofound slumber, from which, however, I started as the old clock strucktwo from a turret adjoining to my bedchamber. I instantly arose, struck alight, wrote the letter I proposed to leave for my uncle, and leavingbehind me such articles of dress as were cumbrous in carriage, Ideposited the rest of my wardrobe in my valise, glided down stairs, andgained the stable without impediment. Without being quite such a groom asany of my cousins, I had learned at Osbaldistone Hall to dress and saddlemy own horse, and in a few minutes I was mounted and ready for my sally.
As I paced up the old avenue, on which the waning moon threw its lightwith a pale and whitish tinge, I looked back with a deep and boding sightowards the walls which contained Diana Vernon, under the despondentimpression that we had probably parted to meet no more. It wasimpossible, among the long and irregular lines of Gothic casements, whichnow looked ghastly white in the moonlight, to distinguish that of theapartment which she inhabited. "She is lost to me already," thought I, asmy eye wandered over the dim and indistinguishable intricacies ofarchitecture offered by the moonlight view of Osbaldistone Hall--"She islost to me already, ere I have left the place which she inhabits! Whathope is there of my maintaining any correspondence with her, when leaguesshall lie between?"
While I paused in a reverie of no very pleasing nature, the "iron tongueof time told three upon the drowsy ear of night," and reminded me of thenecessity of keeping my appointment with a person of a less interestingdescription and appearance--Andrew Fairservice.
At the gate of the avenue I found a horseman stationed in the shadow ofthe wall, but it was not until I had coughed twice, and then called"Andrew," that the horticulturist replied, "I'se warrant it's Andrew."
"Lead the way, then," said I, "and be silent if you can, till we are pastthe hamlet in the valley."
Andrew led the way accordingly, and at a much brisker pace than I wouldhave recommended.--and so well did he obey my injunctions of keepingsilence, that he would return no answer to my repeated inquiries into thecause of such unnecessary haste. Extricating ourselves by short cuts,known to Andrew, from the numerous stony lanes and by-paths whichintersected each other in the vicinity of the Hall, we reached the openheath and riding swiftly across it, took our course among the barrenhills which divide England from Scotland on what are called the MiddleMarches. The way, or rather the broken track which we occupied, was ahappy interchange of bog and shingles; nevertheless, Andrew relentednothing of his speed, but trotted manfully forward at the rate of eightor ten miles an hour. I was both surprised and provoked at the fellow'sobstinate persistence, for we made abrupt ascents and descents overground of a very break-neck character, and traversed the edge ofprecipices, where a slip of the horse's feet would have consigned therider to certain death. The moon, at best, afforded a dubious andimperfect light; but in some places we were so much under the shade ofthe mountain as to be in total darkness, and then I could only traceAndrew by the clatter of his horse's feet, and the fire which they struckfrom the flints. At first, this rapid motion, and the attention which,for the sake of personal safety, I was compelled to give to the conductof my horse, was of service, by forcibly diverting my thoughts from thevarious painful reflections which must otherwise have pressed on my mind.But at length, after hallooing repeatedly to Andrew to ride slower, Ibecame seriously incensed at his impudent perseverance in refusing eitherto obey or to reply to me. My anger was, however, quite impotent. Iattempted once or twice to get up alongside of my self-willed guide, withthe purpose of knocking him off his horse with the butt-end of my whip;but Andrew was better mounted than I, and either the spirit of the animalwhich he bestrode, or more probably some presentiment of my kindintentions towards him, induced him to quicken his pace whenever Iattempted to make up to him. On the other hand, I was compelled to exertmy spurs to keep him in sight, for without his guidance I was too wellaware that I should never find my way through the howling wildernesswhich we now traversed at such an unwonted pace. I was so angry atlength, that I threatened to have recourse to my pistols, and send abullet after the Hotspur Andrew, which should stop his fiery-footedcareer, if he did not abate it of his own accord. Apparently this threatmade some impression on the tympanum of his ear, however deaf to all mymilder entreaties; for he relaxed his pace upon hearing it, and,suffering me to close up to him, observed, "There wasna muckle sense inriding at sic a daft-like gate."
"And what did you mean by doing so at all, you self-willed scoundrel?"replied I; for I was in a towering passion,--to which, by the way,nothing contributes more than the having recently undergone a spice ofpersonal fear, which, like
a few drops of water flung on a glowing fire,is sure to inflame the ardour which it is insufficient to quench.
"What's your honour's wull?" replied Andrew, with impenetrable gravity.
"My will, you rascal?--I have been roaring to you this hour to rideslower, and you have never so much as answered me--Are you drunk or madto behave so?"
"An it like your honour, I am something dull o' hearing; and I'll no denybut I might have maybe taen a stirrup-cup at parting frae the auldbigging whare I hae dwelt sae lang; and having naebody to pledge, naedoubt I was obliged to do mysell reason, or else leave the end o' thebrandy stoup to thae papists--and that wad be a waste, as your honourkens."
This might be all very true,--and my circumstances required that I shouldbe on good terms with my guide; I therefore satisfied myself withrequiring of him to take his directions from me in future concerning therate of travelling.
Andrew, emboldened by the mildness of my tone, elevated his own into thepedantic, conceited octave, which was familiar to him on most occasions.
"Your honour winna persuade me, and naebody shall persuade me, that it'seither halesome or prudent to tak the night air on thae moors without acordial o' clow-gilliflower water, or a tass of brandy or aquavitae, orsic-like creature-comfort. I hae taen the bent ower the Otterscrape-rigga hundred times, day and night, and never could find the way unless I hadtaen my morning; mair by token that I had whiles twa bits o' ankers o'brandy on ilk side o' me."--
"In other words, Andrew," said I, "you were a smuggler--how does a man ofyour strict principles reconcile yourself to cheat the revenue?"
"It's a mere spoiling o' the Egyptians," replied Andrew; "puir auldScotland suffers eneugh by thae blackguard loons o' excisemen andgaugers, that hae come down on her like locusts since the sad andsorrowfu' Union; it's the part of a kind son to bring her a soup o'something that will keep up her auld heart,--and that will they nillthey, the ill-fa'ard thieves!"
Upon more particular inquiry, I found Andrew had frequently travelledthese mountain-paths as a smuggler, both before and after hisestablishment at Osbaldistone Hall--a circumstance which was so far ofimportance to me, as it proved his capacity as a guide, notwithstandingthe escapade of which he had been guilty at his outset. Even now, thoughtravelling at a more moderate pace, the stirrup-cup, or whatever else hadsuch an effect in stimulating Andrew's motions, seemed not totally tohave lost its influence. He often cast a nervous and startled look behindhim; and whenever the road seemed at all practicable, showed symptoms ofa desire to accelerate his pace, as if he feared some pursuit from therear. These appearances of alarm gradually diminished as we reached thetop of a high bleak ridge, which ran nearly east and west for about amile, with a very steep descent on either side. The pale beams of themorning were now enlightening the horizon, when Andrew cast a look behindhim, and not seeing the appearance of a living being on the moors whichhe had travelled, his hard features gradually unbent, as he firstwhistled, then sung, with much glee and little melody, the end of one ofhis native songs--
"Jenny, lass! I think I hae her Ower the muir amang the heather, All their clan shall never get her."
He patted at the same time the neck of the horse which had carried him sogallantly; and my attention being directed by that action to the animal,I instantly recognised a favourite mare of Thorncliff Osbaldistone. "Howis this, sir?" said I sternly; "that is Mr. Thorncliff's mare!"
"I'll no say but she may aiblins hae been his honour's SquireThorncliff's in her day--but she's mine now."
"You have stolen her, you rascal."
"Na, na, sir--nae man can wyte me wi' theft. The thing stands this gate,ye see. Squire Thorncliff borrowed ten punds o' me to gang to YorkRaces--deil a boddle wad he pay me back again, and spake o' raddling mybanes, as he ca'd it, when I asked him but for my ain back again;--now Ithink it will riddle him or he gets his horse ower the Borderagain--unless he pays me plack and bawbee, he sall never see a hair o'her tail. I ken a canny chield at Loughmaben, a bit writer lad, thatwill put me in the way to sort him. Steal the mear! na, na, far be thesin o' theft frae Andrew Fairservice--I have just arrested her_jurisdictionis fandandy causey._ Thae are bonny writer words--amaistlike the language o' huz gardeners and other learned men--it's a pitythey're sae dear;--thae three words were a' that Andrew got for a langlaw-plea and four ankers o' as gude brandy as was e'er coupit owercraig--Hech, sirs! but law's a dear thing."
"You are likely to find it much dearer than you suppose, Andrew, if youproceed in this mode of paying yourself, without legal authority."
"Hout tout, we're in Scotland now (be praised for't!) and I can findbaith friends and lawyers, and judges too, as weel as ony Osbaldistone o'them a'. My mither's mither's third cousin was cousin to the Provost o'Dumfries, and he winna see a drap o' her blude wranged. Hout awa! thelaws are indifferently administered here to a' men alike; it's no like onyon side, when a chield may be whuppit awa' wi' ane o' Clerk Jobson'swarrants, afore he kens where he is. But they will hae little enough lawamang them by and by, and that is ae grand reason that I hae gi'en themgude-day."
I was highly provoked at the achievement of Andrew, and considered it asa hard fate, which a second time threw me into collision with a person ofsuch irregular practices. I determined, however, to buy the mare of him,when he should reach the end of our journey, and send her back to mycousin at Osbaldistone Hall; and with this purpose of reparation Iresolved to make my uncle acquainted from the next post-town. It wasneedless, I thought, to quarrel with Andrew in the meantime, who had,after all, acted not very unnaturally for a person in his circumstances.I therefore smothered my resentment, and asked him what he meant by hislast expressions, that there would be little law in Northumberland by andby?
"Law!" said Andrew, "hout, ay--there will be club-law eneugh. The priestsand the Irish officers, and thae papist cattle that hae been sodgeringabroad, because they durstna bide at hame, are a' fleeing thick inNorthumberland e'enow; and thae corbies dinna gather without they smellcarrion. As sure as ye live, his honour Sir Hildebrand is gaun to stickhis horn in the bog--there's naething but gun and pistol, sword anddagger, amang them--and they'll be laying on, I'se warrant; for they'refearless fules the young Osbaldistone squires, aye craving your honour'spardon."
This speech recalled to my memory some suspicions that I myself hadentertained, that the Jacobites were on the eve of some desperateenterprise. But, conscious it did not become me to be a spy on my uncle'swords and actions, I had rather avoided than availed myself of anyopportunity which occurred of remarking upon the signs of the times.--Andrew Fairservice felt no such restraint, and doubtless spoke very trulyin stating his conviction that some desperate plots were in agitation, asa reason which determined his resolution to leave the Hall.
"The servants," he stated, "with the tenantry and others, had been allregularly enrolled and mustered, and they wanted me to take arms also.But I'll ride in nae siccan troop--they little ken'd Andrew that askedhim. I'll fight when I like mysell, but it sall neither be for the hureo' Babylon, nor any hure in England."