CHAPTER LXVII
Happy's the wooing That's not long a doing
When the first rapturous sensation occasioned by these excellenttidings had somewhat subsided, Edward proposed instantly to go down tothe glen to acquaint the Baron with their import. But the cautiousBailie justly observed that, if the Baron were to appear instantly inpublic, the tenantry and villagers might become riotous in expressingtheir joy, and give offence to 'the powers that be,' a sort of personsfor whom the Bailie always had unlimited respect. He therefore proposedthat Mr. Waverley should go to Janet Gellatley's and bring the Baron upunder cloud of night to Little Veolan, where he might once more enjoythe luxury of a good bed. In the meanwhile, he said, he himself wouldgo to Captain Foster and show him the Baron's protection, and obtainhis countenance for harbouring him that night, and he would have horsesready on the morrow to set him on his way to the Duchran along with Mr.Stanley, 'whilk denomination, I apprehend, your honour will for thepresent retain,' said the Bailie.
'Certainly, Mr. Macwheeble; but will you not go down to the glenyourself in the evening to meet your patron?'
'That I wad wi' a' my heart; and mickle obliged to your honour forputting me in mind o' mybounden duty. But it will be past sunset aforeI get back frae the Captain's, and at these unsonsy hours the glen hasa bad name; there's something no that canny about auld Janet Gellatley.The Laird he'll no believe thae things, but he was aye ower rash andventuresome, and feared neither man nor deevil, an sae's seen o't. Butright sure am I Sir George Mackenyie says, that no divine can doubtthere are witches, since the Bible says thou shalt not suffer them tolive; and that no lawyer in Scotland can doubt it, since it ispunishable with death by our law. So there's baith law and gospel forit. An his honour winna believe the Leviticus, he might aye believe theStatute-book; but he may tak his ain way o't; it's a' ane to DuncanMacwheeble. However, I shall send to ask up auld Janet this e'en; it'sbest no to lightly them that have that character; and we'll want Davieto turn the spit, for I'll gar Eppie put down a fat goose to the firefor your honours to your supper.'
When it was near sunset Waverley hastened to the hut; and he could notbut allow that superstition had chosen no improper locality, or unfitobject, for the foundation of her fantastic terrors. It resembledexactly the description of Spenser:--
There, in a gloomy hollow glen, she found A little cottage built of sticks and reeds, In homely wise, and wall'd with sods around, In which a witch did dwell in loathly weeds, And wilful want, all careless of her needs, So choosing solitary to abide Far from all neighbours, that her devilish deeds, And hellish arts, from people she might hide, And hurt far off, unknown, whomsoever she espied.
He entered the cottage with these verses in his memory. Poor old Janet,bent double with age and bleared with peat-smoke, was tottering aboutthe hut with a birch broom, muttering to herself as she endeavoured tomake her hearth and floor a little clean for the reception of herexpected guests. Waverley's step made her start, look up, and falla-trembling, so much had her nerves been on the rack for her patron'ssafety. With difficulty Waverley made her comprehend that the Baron wasnow safe from personal danger; and when her mind had admitted thatjoyful news, it was equally hard to make her believe that he was not toenter again upon possession of his estate. 'It behoved to be,' shesaid, 'he wad get it back again; naebody wad be sae gripple as to takhis gear after they had gi'en him a pardon: and for that Inch-Grabbit,I could whiles wish mysell a witch for his sake, if I werena feared theEnemy wad tak me at my word.' Waverley then gave her some money, andpromised that her fidelity should be rewarded. 'How can I be rewarded,sir, sae weel as just to see my auld maister and Miss Rose come backand bruik their ain?'
Waverley now took leave of Janet, and soon stood beneath the Baron'sPatmos. At a low whistle he observed the veteran peeping out toreconnoitre, like an old badger with his head out of his hole. 'Ye haecome rather early, my good lad,' said he, descending; 'I question ifthe red-coats hae beat the tattoo yet, and we're not safe till then.'
'Good news cannot be told too soon,' said Waverley; and with infinitejoy communicated to him the happy tidings. The old man stood for amoment in silent devotion, then exclaimed, 'Praise be to God! I shallsee my bairn again.'
'And never, I hope, to part with her more,' said Waverley.
'I trust in God not, unless it be to win the means of supporting her;for my things are but in a bruckle state;--but what signifies warld'sgear?'
'And if,' said Waverley modestly, 'there were a situation in life whichwould put Miss Bradwardine beyond the uncertainty of fortune, and inthe rank to which she was born, would you object to it, my dear Baron,because it would make one of your friends the happiest man in theworld?' The Baron turned and looked at him with great earnestness.'Yes,' continued Edward, 'I shall not consider my sentence ofbanishment as repealed unless you will give me permission to accompanyyou to the Duchran, and--'
The Baron seemed collecting all his dignity to make a suitable reply towhat, at another time, he would have treated as the propounding atreaty of alliance between the houses of Bradwardine and Waverley. Buthis efforts were in vain; the father was too mighty for the Baron; thepride of birth and rank were swept away; in the joyful surprise aslight convulsion passed rapidly over his features, as he gave way tothe feelings of nature, threw his arms around Waverley's neck, andsobbed out--'My son, my son! if I had been to search the world, I wouldhave made my choice here.' Edward returned the embrace with greatsympathy of feeling, and for a little while they both kept silence. Atlength it was broken by Edward. 'But Miss Bradwardine?'
'She had never a will but her old father's; besides, you are a likelyyouth, of honest principles and high birth; no, she never had any otherwill than mine, and in my proudest days I could not have wished a maireligible espousal for her than the nephew of my excellent old friend,Sir Everard. But I hope, young man, ye deal na rashly in this matter? Ihope ye hae secured the approbation of your ain friends and allies,particularly of your uncle, who is in loco parentis? Ah! we maun takheed o' that.' Edward assured him that Sir Everard would think himselfhighly honoured in the flattering reception his proposal had met with,and that it had his entire approbation; in evidence of which he putColonel Talbot's letter into the Baron's hand. The Baron read it withgreat attention. 'Sir Everard,' he said, 'always despised wealth incomparison of honour and birth; and indeed he hath no occasion to courtthe Diva Pecunia. Yet I now wish, since this Malcolm turns out such aparricide, for I can call him no better, as to think of alienating thefamily inheritance--I now wish (his eyes fixed on a part of the roofwhich was visible above the trees) that I could have left Rose the auldhurley-house and the riggs belanging to it. And yet,' said he, resumingmore cheerfully, 'it's maybe as weel as it is; for, as Baron ofBradwardine, I might have thought it my duty to insist upon certaincompliances respecting name and bearings, whilk now, as a landlesslaird wi' a tocherless daughter, no one can blame me for departingfrom.'
'Now, Heaven be praised!' thought Edward,'that Sir Everard does nothear these scruples! The three ermines passant and rampant bear wouldcertainly have gone together by the ears.' He then, with all the ardourof a young lover, assured the Baron that he sought for his happinessonly in Rose's heart and hand, and thought himself as happy in herfather's simple approbation as if he had settled an earldom upon hisdaughter.
They now reached Little Veolan. The goose was smoking on the table, andthe Bailie brandished his knife and fork. A joyous greeting took placebetween him and his patron. The kitchen, too, had its company. AuldJanet was established at the ingle-nook; Davie had turned the spit tohis immortal honour; and even Ban and Buscar, in the liberality ofMacwheeble's joy, had been stuffed to the throat with food, and now laysnoring on the floor.
The next day conducted the Baron and his young friend to the Duchran,where the former was expected, in consequence of the success of thenearly unanimous application of the Scottish friends of government inhis favour. This had been so general and so powerful
that it was almostthought his estate might have been saved, had it not passed into therapacious hands of his unworthy kinsman, whose right, arising out ofthe Baron's attainder, could not be affected by a pardon from thecrown. The old gentleman, however, said, with his usual spirit, he wasmore gratified by the hold he possessed in the good opinion of hisneighbours than he would have been in being rehabilitated and restoredin integrum, had it been found practicable.'
We shall not attempt to describe the meeting of the father anddaughter, loving each other so affectionately, and separated under suchperilous circumstances. Still less shall we attempt to analyse the deepblush of Rose at receiving the compliments of Waverley, or stop toinquire whether she had any curiosity respecting the particular causeof his journey to Scotland at that period. We shall not even troublethe reader with the humdrum details of a courtship Sixty Years Since.It is enough to say that, under so strict a martinet as the Baron, allthings were conducted in due form. He took upon himself, the morningafter their arrival, the task of announcing the proposal of Waverley toRose, which she heard with a proper degree of maiden timidity. Famedoes, however, say that Waverley had the evening before found fiveminutes to apprise her of what was coming, while the rest of thecompany were looking at three twisted serpents which formed a, jetd'eau in the garden.
My fair readers will judge for themselves; but, for my part, I cannotconceive how so important an affair could be communicated in so short aspace of time; at least, it certainly took a full hour in the Baron'smode of conveying it.
Waverley was now considered as a received lover in all the forms. Hewas made, by dint of smirking and nodding on the part of the lady ofthe house, to sit next Miss Bradwardine at dinner, to be MissBradwardine's partner at cards. If he came into the room, she of thefour Miss Rubricks who chanced to be next Rose was sure to recollectthat her thimble or her scissors were at the other end of the room, inorder to leave the seat nearest to Miss Bradwardine vacant for hisoccupation. And sometimes, if papa and mamma were not in the way tokeep them on their good behaviour, the misses would titter a little.The old Laird of Duchran would also have his occasional jest, and theold lady her remark. Even the Baron could not refrain; but here Roseescaped every embarrassment but that of conjecture, for his wit wasusually couched in a Latin quotation. The very footmen sometimesgrinned too broadly, the maidservants giggled mayhap too loud, and aprovoking air of intelligence seemed to pervade the whole family. AliceBean, the pretty maid of the cavern, who, after her father'smisfortune, as she called it, had attended Rose as fille-de-chambre,smiled and smirked with the best of them. Rose and Edward, however,endured all these little vexatious circumstances as other folks havedone before and since, and probably contrived to obtain someindemnification, since they are not supposed, on the whole, to havebeen particularly unhappy during Waverley's six days' stay at theDuchran.
It was finally arranged that Edward should go to Waverley-Honour tomake the necessary arrangements for his marriage, thence to London totake the proper measures for pleading his pardon, and return as soon aspossible to claim the hand of his plighted bride. He also intended inhis journey to visit Colonel Talbot; but, above all, it was his mostimportant object to learn the fate of the unfortunate Chief ofGlennaquoich; to visit him at Carlisle, and to try whether anythingcould be done for procuring, if not a pardon, a commutation at least,or alleviation, of the punishment to which he was almost certain ofbeing condemned; and, in case of the worst, to offer the miserableFlora an asylum with Rose, or otherwise to assist her views in any modewhich might seem possible. The fate of Fergus seemed hard to beaverted. Edward had already striven to interest his friend, ColonelTalbot, in his behalf; but had been given distinctly to understand byhis reply that his credit in matters of that nature was totallyexhausted.
The Colonel was still in Edinburgh, and proposed to wait there for somemonths upon business confided to him by the Duke of Cumberland. He wasto be joined by Lady Emily, to whom easy travelling and goat's wheywere recommended, and who was to journey northward under the escort ofFrancis Stanley. Edward, therefore, met the Colonel at Edinburgh, whowished him joy in the kindest manner on his approaching happiness, andcheerfully undertook many commissions which our hero was necessarilyobliged to delegate to his charge. But on the subject of Fergus he wasinexorable. He satisfied Edward, indeed, that his interference would beunavailing; but, besides, Colonel Talbot owned that he could notconscientiously use any influence in favour of that unfortunategentleman. 'Justice,' he said, 'which demanded some penalty of thosewho had wrapped the whole nation in fear and in mourning, could notperhaps have selected a fitter victim. He came to the field with thefullest light upon the nature of his attempt. He had studied andunderstood the subject. His father's fate could not intimidate him; thelenity of the laws which had restored to him his father's property andrights could not melt him. That he was brave, generous, and possessedmany good qualities only rendered him the more dangerous; that he wasenlightened and accomplished made his crime the less excusable; that hewas an enthusiast in a wrong cause only made him the more fit to be itsmartyr. Above all, he had been the means of bringing many hundreds ofmen into the field who, without him, would never have broken the peaceof the country.
'I repeat it,' said the Colonel,'though Heaven knows with a heartdistressed for him as an individual, that this young gentleman hasstudied and fully understood the desperate game which he has played. Hethrew for life or death, a coronet or a coffin; and he cannot now bepermitted, with justice to the country, to draw stakes because the dicehave gone against him.'
Such was the reasoning of those times, held even by brave and humanemen towards a vanquished enemy. Let us devoutly hope that, in thisrespect at least, we shall never see the scenes or hold the sentimentsthat were general in Britain Sixty Years Since.