CHAPTER XLII

  A SOLDIER'S DINNER

  James of the Needle was a man of his word when whisky was no party tothe contract; and upon this occasion Callum Beg, who still thoughthimself in Waverley's debt, since he had declined acceptingcompensation at the expense of mine host of the Candlestick's person,took the opportunity of discharging the obligation, by mounting guardover the hereditary tailor of Sliochd nan Ivor; and, as he expressedhimself, 'targed him tightly' till the finishing of the job. To ridhimself of this restraint, Shemus's needle flew through the tartan likelightning; and as the artist kept chanting some dreadful skirmish ofFin Macoul, he accomplished at least three stitches to the death ofevery hero. The dress was, therefore, soon ready, for the short coatfitted the wearer, and the rest of the apparel required littleadjustment.

  Our hero having now fairly assumed the 'garb of old Gaul,' wellcalculated as it was to give an appearance of strength to a figurewhich, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant than robust, Ihope my fair readers will excuse him if he looked at himself in themirror more than once, and could not help acknowledging that thereflection seemed that of a very handsome young fellow. In fact, therewas no disguising it. His light-brown hair--for he wore no periwig,notwithstanding the universal fashion of the time--became the bonnetwhich surmounted it. His person promised firmness and agility, to whichthe ample folds of the tartan added an air of dignity. His blue eyeseemed of that kind,

  Which melted in love, and which kindled in war;

  and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want ofhabitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his features,without injuring their grace or intelligence.

  'He's a pratty man, a very pratty man,' said Evan Dhu (now EnsignMaccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.

  'He's vera weel,' said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething saeweel-far'd as your colonel, ensign.'

  'I wasna comparing them,' quoth Evan, 'nor was I speaking about hisbeing weel-favoured; but only that Mr. Waverley looks clean-made anddeliver, and like a proper lad o' his quarters, that will not crybarley in a brulzie. And, indeed, he's gleg aneuch at the broadswordand target. I hae played wi' him mysell at Glennaquoich, and sae hasVich lan Vohr, often of a Sunday afternoon.'

  'Lord forgie ye, Ensign Maccombich,' said the alarmed Presbyterian;'I'm sure the colonel wad never do the like o' that!'

  'Hout! hout! Mrs. Flockhart,' replied the ensign, 'we're young blude,ye ken; and young saints, auld deils.'

  'But will ye fight wi' Sir John Cope the morn, Ensign Maccombich?'demanded Mrs. Flockhart of her guest.

  'Troth I'se ensure him, an he'll bide us, Mrs. Flockhart,' replied theGael.

  'And will ye face thae tearing chields, the dragoons, EnsignMaccombich?' again inquired the landlady.

  'Claw for claw, as Conan said to Satan, Mrs. Flockhart, and the deeviltak the shortest nails.'

  'And will the colonel venture on the bagganets himsell?'

  'Ye may swear it, Mrs. Flockhart; the very first man will he be, bySaint Phedar.'

  'Merciful goodness! and if he's killed amang the redcoats!' exclaimedthe soft-hearted widow.

  'Troth, if it should sae befall, Mrs. Flockhart, I ken ane that will nobe living to weep for him. But we maun a' live the day, and have ourdinner; and there's Vich lan Vohr has packed his dorlach, and Mr.Waverley's wearied wi' majoring yonder afore the muckle pier-glass; andthat grey auld stoor carle, the Baron o' Bradwardine that shot youngRonald of Ballenkeiroch, he's coming down the close wi' that droghlingcoghling bailie body they ca' Macwhupple, just like the Laird o'Kittlegab's French cook, wi' his turnspit doggie trindling ahint him,and I am as hungry as a gled, my bonny dow; sae bid Kate set on thebroo', and do ye put on your pinners, for ye ken Vich lan Vohr winnasit down till ye be at the head o' the table;--and dinna forget thepint bottle o' brandy, my woman.'

  This hint produced dinner. Mrs. Flockhart, smiling in her weeds likethe sun through a mist, took the head of the table, thinking withinherself, perhaps, that she cared not how long the rebellion lasted thatbrought her into company so much above her usual associates. She wassupported by Waverley and the Baron, with the advantage of theChieftain vis-a-vis. The men of peace and of war, that is, BailieMacwheeble and Ensign Maccombich, after many profound conges to theirsuperiors and each other, took their places on each side of theChieftain. Their fare was excellent, time, place, and circumstancesconsidered, and Fergus's spirits were extravagantly high. Regardless ofdanger, and sanguine from temper, youth, and ambition, he saw inimagination all his prospects crowned with success, and was totallyindifferent to the probable alternative of a soldier's grave. The Baronapologized slightly for bringing Macwheeble. They had been providing,he said, for the expenses of the campaign. 'And, by my faith,' said theold man, 'as I think this will be my last, so I just end where I began:I hae evermore found the sinews of war, as a learned author calls thecaisse mttitaire, mair difficult to come by than either its flesh,blood, or bones.'

  'What! have you raised our only efficient body of cavalry and got yenone of the louis-d'or out of the Doutelle [Footnote: The Doutelle wasan armed vessel which brought a small supply of money and arms fromFrance for the use of the insurgents.] to help you?'

  'No, Glennaquoich; cleverer fellows have been before me.'

  'That's a scandal,' said the young Highlander; 'but you will share whatis left of my subsidy; it will save you an anxious thought tonight, andwill be all one tomorrow, for we shall all be provided for, one way orother, before the sun sets.' Waverley, blushing deeply, but with greatearnestness, pressed the same request.

  'I thank ye baith, my good lads,' said the Baron, 'but I will notinfringe upon your peculium. Bailie Macwheeble has provided the sumwhich is necessary.'

  Here the Bailie shifted and fidgeted about in his seat, and appearedextremely uneasy. At length, after several preliminary hems, and muchtautological expression of his devotion to his honour's service, bynight or day, living or dead, he began to insinuate, 'that the bankshad removed a' their ready cash into the Castle; that, nae doubt,Sandie Goldie, the silversmith, would do mickle for his honour; butthere was little time to get the wadset made out; and, doubtless, ifhis honour Glennaquoich or Mr. Wauverley could accommodate--'

  'Let me hear of no such nonsense, sir,' said the Baron, in a tone whichrendered Macwheeble mute, 'but proceed as we accorded before dinner, ifit be your wish to remain in my service.'

  To this peremptory order the Bailie, though he felt as if condemned tosuffer a transfusion of blood from his own veins into those of theBaron, did not presume to make any reply. After fidgeting a littlewhile longer, however, he addressed himself to Glennaquoich, and toldhim, if his honour had mair ready siller than was sufficient for hisoccasions in the field, he could put it out at use for his honour insafe hands and at great profit at this time.

  At this proposal Fergus laughed heartily, and answered, when he hadrecovered his breath--'Many thanks, Bailie; but you must know, it is ageneral custom among us soldiers to make our landlady our banker. Here,Mrs. Flockhart,' said he, taking four or five broad pieces out of awell-filled purse and tossing the purse itself, with its remainingcontents, into her apron, 'these will serve my occasions; do you takethe rest. Be my banker if I live, and my executor if I die; but takecare to give something to the Highland cailliachs [Footnote: Old women,on whom devolved the duty of lamenting for the dead, which the Irishcall keening.] that shall cry the coronach loudest for the last Vichlan Vohr.'

  'It is the testamentum militare,' quoth the Baron, 'whilk, amang theRomans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative.' But the soft heart of Mrs.Flockhart was melted within her at the Chieftain's speech; she set up alamentable blubbering, and positively refused to touch the bequest,which Fergus was therefore obliged to resume.

  'Well, then,' said the Chief, 'if I fall, it will go to the grenadierthat knocks my brains out, and I shall take care he works hard for it.'

  Bailie Macwheeble was again tempted to put in his oar; for where cashwas c
oncerned he did not willingly remain silent. 'Perhaps he hadbetter carry the gowd to Miss Mac-Ivor, in case of mortality oraccidents of war. It might tak the form of a mortis causa donation inthe young leddie's favour, and--wad cost but the scrape of a pen to makit out.'

  'The young lady,' said Fergus,'should such an event happen, will haveother matters to think of than these wretched louis-d'or.'

  'True--undeniable--there's nae doubt o' that; but your honour kens thata full sorrow--'

  'Is endurable by most folk more easily than a hungry one? True, Bailie,very true; and I believe there may even be some who would be consoledby such a reflection for the loss of the whole existing generation. Butthere is a sorrow which knows neither hunger nor thirst; and poorFlora--' He paused, and the whole company sympathised in his emotion.

  The Baron's thoughts naturally reverted to the unprotected state of hisdaughter, and the big tear came to the veteran's eye. 'If I fall,Macwheeble, you have all my papers and know all my affairs; be just toRose.'

  The Bailie was a man of earthly mould, after all; a good deal of dirtand dross about him, undoubtedly, but some kindly and just feelings hehad, especially where the Baron or his young mistress were concerned.He set up a lamentable howl. 'If that doleful day should come, whileDuncan Macwheeble had a boddle it should be Miss Rose's. He wald scrollfor a plack the sheet or she kenn'd what it was to want; if indeed a'the bonnie baronie o' Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, with the fortaliceand manor-place thereof (he kept sobbing and whining at every pause),tofts, crofts, mosses, muirs--outfield,infield--buildings--orchards--dove-cots--with the right of net andcoble in the water and loch of Veolan--teinds, parsonage andvicarage--annexis, connexis--rights of pasturage--feul, feal anddivot--parts, pendicles, and pertinents whatsoever--(here he hadrecourse to the end of his long cravat to wipe his eyes, whichoverflowed, in spite of him, at the ideas which this technical jargonconjured up)--all as more fully described in the proper evidents andtitles thereof--and lying within the parish of Bradwardine and theshire of Perth--if, as aforesaid, they must a' pass from my master'schild to Inch-Grabbit, wha's a Whig and a Hanoverian, and be managed byhis doer, Jamie Howie, wha's no fit to be a birlieman, let be abailie--'

  The beginning of this lamentation really had something affecting, butthe conclusion rendered laughter irresistible. 'Never mind, Bailie,'said Ensign Maccombich, 'for the gude auld times of rugging and riving(pulling and tearing) are come back again, an' Sneckus Mac-Snackus(meaning, probably, annexis, connexis), and a' the rest of yourfriends, maun gie place to the langest claymore.'

  'And that claymore shall be ours, Bailie,' said the Chieftain, who sawthat Macwheeble looked very blank at this intimation.

  'We'll give them the metal our mountain affords, Lillibulero, bullen a la, And in place of broad-pieces, we'll pay with broadswords, Lero, lero, etc. With duns and with debts we will soon clear our score, Lillibulero, etc. For the man that's thus paid will crave payment no more, Lero, lero, etc.

  [Footnote: These lines, or something like them, occur in an oldmagazine of the period.]

  But come, Bailie, be not cast down; drink your wine with a joyousheart; the Baron shall return safe and victorious to Tully-Veolan, andunite Killancureit's lairdship with his own, since the cowardlyhalf-bred swine will not turn out for the Prince like a gentleman.'

  'To be sure, they lie maist ewest,' said the Bailie, wiping his eyes,'and should naturally fa' under the same factory.'

  'And I,' proceeded the Chieftain,'shall take care of myself, too; foryou must know, I have to complete a good work here, by bringing Mrs.Flockhart into the bosom of the Catholic church, or at least half way,and that is to your Episcopal meeting-house. O Baron! if you heard herfine counter-tenor admonishing Kate and Matty in the morning, you, whounderstand music, would tremble at the idea of hearing her shriek inthe psalmody of Haddo's Hole.'

  'Lord forgie you, colonel, how ye rin on! But I hope your honours willtak tea before ye gang to the palace, and I maun gang and mask it foryou.'

  So saying, Mrs. Flockhart left the gentlemen to their own conversation,which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon the approaching eventsof the campaign.