CHAPTER LXIV
COMPARING OF NOTES
Thearon's story was short, when divested of the adages andcommonplaces, Latin, English, and Scotch, with which his eruditiongarnished it. He insisted much upon his grief at the loss of Edward andof Glennaquoich, fought the fields of Falkirk and Culloden, and relatedhow, after all was lost in the last battle, he had returned home, underthe idea of more easily finding shelter among his own tenants and onhis own estate than elsewhere. A party of soldiers had been sent to laywaste his property, for clemency was not the order of the day. Theirproceedings, however, were checked by an order from the civil court.The estate, it was found, might not be forfeited to the crown to theprejudice of Malcolm Bradwardine of Inch-Grabbit, the heir-male, whoseclaim could not be prejudiced by the Baron's attainder, as deriving noright through him, and who, therefore, like other heirs of entail inthe same situation, entered upon possession. But, unlike many insimilar circumstances, the new laird speedily showed that he intendedutterly to exclude his predecessor from all benefit or advantage in theestate, and that it was his purpose to avail himself of the old Baron'sevil fortune to the full extent. This was the more ungenerous, as itwas generally known that, from a romantic idea of not prejudicing thisyoung man's right as heir-male, the Baron had refrained from settlinghis estate on his daughter.
This selfish injustice was resented by the country people, who werepartial to their old master, and irritated against his successor. Inthe Baron's own words, 'The matter did not coincide with the feelingsof the commons of Bradwardine, Mr. Waverley; and the tenants were slackand repugnant in payment of their mails and duties; and when my kinsmancame to the village wi' the new factor, Mr. James Howie, to lift therents, some wanchancy person--I suspect John Heatherblutter, the auldgamekeeper, that was out wi' me in the year fifteen--fired a shot athim in the gloaming, whereby he was so affrighted, that I may say withTullius In Catilinam, "Abiit, evasit, erupit, effugit." He fled, sir,as one may say, incontinent to Stirling. And now he hath advertised theestate for sale, being himself the last substitute in the entail. Andif I were to lament about sic matters, this would grieve me mair thanits passing from my immediate possession, whilk, by the course ofnature, must have happened in a few years; whereas now it passes fromthe lineage that should have possessed it in scecula saculorum. ButGod's will be done, humana perpessi sumus. Sir John ofBradwardine--Black Sir John, as he is called--who was the commonancestor of our house and the Inch-Grabbits, little thought such aperson would have sprung from his loins. Mean time, he has accused meto some of the primates, the rulers for the time, as if I were acut-throat, and an abettor of bravoes and assassinates andcoupe-jarrets. And they have sent soldiers here to abide on the estate,and hunt me like a partridge upon the mountains, as Scripture says ofgood King David, or like our valiant Sir William Wallace--not that Ibring myself into comparison with either. I thought, when I heard youat the door, they had driven the auld deer to his den at last; and so Ie'en proposed to die at bay, like a buck of the first head. But now,Janet, canna ye gie us something for supper?' 'Ou ay, sir, I'll branderthe moor-fowl that John Heatherblutter brought in this morning; and yesee puir Davie's roasting the black hen's eggs. I daur say, Mr.Wauverley, ye never kend that a' the eggs that were sae weel roasted atsupper in the Ha'-house were aye turned by our Davie? there's no thelike o' him ony gate for powtering wi' his fingers amang the hetpeat-ashes and roasting eggs.' Davie all this while lay with his nosealmost in the fire, nuzzling among the ashes, kicking his heels,mumbling to himself, turning the eggs as they lay in the hot embers, asif to confute the proverb, that 'there goes reason to roasting ofeggs,' and justify the eulogium which poor Janet poured out upon
Him whom she loved, her idiot boy.
'Davie's no sae silly as folk tak him for, Mr. Wauverley; he wadna haebrought you here unless he had kend ye was a friend to his Honour;indeed the very dogs kend ye, Mr. Wauverley, for ye was aye kind tobeast and body. I can tell you a story o' Davie, wi' his Honour'sleave. His Honour, ye see, being under hiding in thae sair times--themair's the pity--he lies a' day, and whiles a' night, in the cove inthe dern hag; but though it's a bieldy eneugh bit, and the auld gudemano' Corse-Cleugh has panged it wi' a kemple o' strae amaist, yet whenthe country's quiet, and the night very cauld, his Honour whiles creepsdoun here to get a warm at the ingle and a sleep amang the blankets,and gangs awa in the morning. And so, ae morning, siccan a fright as Igot! Twa unlucky red-coats were up for black-fishing, or some siccanploy--for the neb o' them's never out o' mischief--and they just got aglisk o' his Honour as he gaed into the wood, and banged aff a gun athim. I out like a jer-falcon, and cried--"Wad they shoot an honestwoman's poor innocent bairn?" And I fleyt at them, and threepit it wasmy son; and they damned and swuir at me that it was the auld rebel, asthe villains ca'd his Honour; and Davie was in the wood, and heard thetuilzie, and he, just out o' his ain head, got up the auld grey mantlethat his Honour had flung off him to gang the faster, and he cam out o'the very same bit o' the wood, majoring and looking about sae like hisHonour, that they were clean beguiled, and thought they had letten afftheir gun at crack-brained Sawney, as they ca' him; and they gae mesaxpence, and twa saumon fish, to say naething about it. Na, na,Davie's no just like other folk, puir fallow; but he's no sae silly asfolk tak him for. But, to be sure, how can we do eneugh for his Honour,when we and ours have lived on his ground this twa hundred years; andwhen he keepit my puir Jamie at school and college, and even at theHa'-house, till he gaed to a better place; and when he saved me fraebeing ta'en to Perth as a witch--Lord forgi'e them that would touch sica puir silly auld body!--and has maintained puir Davie at heck andmanger maist feck o' his life?'
Waverley at length found an opportunity to interrupt Janet's narrativeby an inquiry after Miss Bradwardine.
'She's weel and safe, thank God! at the Duchran,' answered the Baron;'the laird's distantly related to us, and more nearly to my chaplain,Mr. Rubrick; and, though he be of Whig principles, yet he's notforgetful of auld friendship at this time. The Bailie's doing what hecan to save something out of the wreck for puir Rose; but I doubt, Idoubt, I shall never see her again, for I maun lay my banes in some farcountry.'
'Hout na, your Honour,' said old Janet, 'ye were just as ill aff in thefeifteen, and got the bonnie baronie back, an' a'. And now the eggs isready, and the muir-cock's brandered, and there's ilk ane a trencherand some saut, and the heel o' the white loaf that cam frae theBailie's, and there's plenty o' brandy in the greybeard that LuckieMaclearie sent doun, and winna ye be suppered like princes?'
'I wish one Prince, at least, of our acquaintance may be no worse off,'said the Baron to Waverley, who joined him in cordial hopes for thesafety of the unfortunate Chevalier.
They then began to talk of their future prospects. The Baron's plan wasvery simple. It was, to escape to France, where, by the interest of hisold friends, he hoped to get some military employment, of which hestill conceived himself capable. He invited Waverley to go with him, aproposal in which he acquiesced, providing the interest of ColonelTalbot should fail in procuring his pardon. Tacitly he hoped the Baronwould sanction his addresses to Rose, and give him a right to assisthim in his exile; but he forbore to speak on this subject until his ownfate should be decided. They then talked of Glennaquoich, for whom theBaron expressed great anxiety, although, he observed, he was 'the veryAchilles of Horatius Flaccus,--
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer; which,' he continued, 'has beenthus rendered (vernacularly) by Struan Robertson:--
A fiery etter-cap, a fractious chiel, As het as ginger, and as stieve as steel.'
Flora had a large and unqualified share of the good old man's sympathy.
It was now wearing late. Old Janet got into some kind of kennel behindthe hallan; Davie had been long asleep and snoring between Ban andBuscar. These dogs had followed him to the hut after the mansion-housewas deserted, and there constantly resided; and their ferocity, withthe old woman's reputation of being a witch, contributed a good dea
l tokeep visitors from the glen. With this view, Bailie Macwheeble providedJanet underhand with meal for their maintenance, and also with littlearticles of luxury for his patron's use, in supplying which muchprecaution was necessarily used. After some compliments, the Baronoccupied his usual couch, and Waverley reclined in an easy chair oftattered velvet, which had once garnished the state bed-room ofTully-Veolan (for the furniture of this mansion was now scatteredthrough all the cottages in the vicinity), and went to sleep ascomfortably as if he had been in a bed of down.