CHAPTER XLIX
THE ENGLISH PRISONER
The first occupation of Waverley, after he departed from theChieftain, was to go in quest of the officer whose life he hadsaved. He was guarded, along with his companions in misfortune,who were very numerous, in a gentleman's house near the field ofbattle.
On entering the room where they stood crowded together, Waverleyeasily recognised the object of his visit, not only by thepeculiar dignity of his appearance, but by the appendage of DugaldMahony, with his battleaxe, who had stuck to him from the momentof his captivity as if he had been skewered to his side. Thisclose attendance was perhaps for the purpose of securing hispromised reward from Edward, but it also operated to save theEnglish gentleman from being plundered in the scene of generalconfusion; for Dugald sagaciously argued that the amount of thesalvage which he might be allowed would be regulated by the stateof the prisoner when he should deliver him over to Waverley. Hehastened to assure Waverley, therefore, with more words than heusually employed, that he had 'keepit ta sidier roy haill, andthat he wasna a plack the waur since the fery moment when hishonour forbad her to gie him a bit clamhewit wi' her Lochaber-axe.'
Waverley assured Dugald of a liberal recompense, and, approachingthe English officer, expressed his anxiety to do anything whichmight contribute to his convenience under his present unpleasantcircumstances.
'I am not so inexperienced a soldier, sir,' answered theEnglishman, 'as to complain of the fortune of war. I am onlygrieved to see those scenes acted in our own island which I haveoften witnessed elsewhere with comparative indifference.'
'Another such day as this,' said Waverley, 'and I trust the causeof your regrets will be removed, and all will again return topeace and order.'
The officer smiled and shook his head. 'I must not forget mysituation so far as to attempt a formal confutation of thatopinion; but, notwithstanding your success and the valour whichachieved it, you have undertaken a task to which your strengthappears wholly inadequate.'
At this moment Fergus pushed into the press.
'Come, Edward, come along; the Prince has gone to Pinkie House forthe night; and we must follow, or lose the whole ceremony of thecaligae. Your friend, the Baron, has been guilty of a great pieceof cruelty; he has insisted upon dragging Bailie Macwheeble out tothe field of battle. Now, you must know, the Bailie's greatesthorror is an armed Highlander or a loaded gun; and there hestands, listening to the Baron's instructions concerning theprotest, ducking his head like a sea-gull at the report of everygun and pistol that our idle boys are firing upon the fields, andundergoing, by way of penance, at every symptom of flinching asevere rebuke from his patron, who would not admit the dischargeof a whole battery of cannon, within point-blank distance, as anapology for neglecting a discourse in which the honour of hisfamily is interested.'
'But how has Mr. Bradwardine got him to venture so far?' saidEdward.
'Why, he had come as far as Musselburgh, I fancy, in hopes ofmaking some of our wills; and the peremptory commands of the Barondragged him forward to Preston after the battle was over. Hecomplains of one or two of our ragamuffins having put him in perilof his life by presenting their pieces at him; but as they limitedhis ransom to an English penny, I don't think we need trouble theprovost-marshal upon that subject. So come along, Waverley.'
'Waverley!' said the English officer, with great emotion;' thenephew of Sir Everard Waverley, of----shire?'
'The same, sir,' replied our hero, somewhat surprised at the tonein which he was addressed.
'I am at once happy and grieved,' said the prisoner, 'to have metwith you.'
'I am ignorant, sir,' answered Waverley, 'how I have deserved somuch interest.'
'Did your uncle never mention a friend called Talbot?'
'I have heard him talk with great regard of such a person,'replied Edward; 'a colonel, I believe, in the army, and thehusband of Lady Emily Blandeville; but I thought Colonel Talbothad been abroad.'
'I am just returned,' answered the officer; 'and being inScotland, thought it my duty to act where my services promised tobe useful. Yes, Mr. Waverley, I am that Colonel Talbot, thehusband of the lady you have named; and I am proud to acknowledgethat I owe alike my professional rank and my domestic happiness toyour generous and noble-minded relative. Good God! that I shouldfind his nephew in such a dress, and engaged in such a cause!'
'Sir,' said Fergus, haughtily, 'the dress and cause are those ofmen of birth and honour.'
'My situation forbids me to dispute your assertion,' said ColonelTalbot; 'otherwise it were no difficult matter to show thatneither courage nor pride of lineage can gild a bad cause. But,with Mr. Waverley's permission and yours, sir, if yours also mustbe asked, I would willingly speak a few words with him on affairsconnected with his own family.'
'Mr. Waverley, sir, regulates his own motions. You will follow me,I suppose, to Pinkie,' said Fergus, turning to Edward, 'when youhave finished your discourse with this new acquaintance?' Sosaying, the Chief of Glennaquoich adjusted his plaid with rathermore than his usual air of haughty assumption and left theapartment.
The interest of Waverley readily procured for Colonel Talbot thefreedom of adjourning to a large garden belonging to his place ofconfinement. They walked a few paces in silence, Colonel Talbotapparently studying how to open what he had to say; at length headdressed Edward.
'Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life; and yet I would toGod that I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing the uniformand cockade of these men.'
'I forgive your reproach, Colonel Talbot; it is well meant, andyour education and prejudices render it natural. But there isnothing extraordinary in finding a man whose honour has beenpublicly and unjustly assailed in the situation which promisedmost fair to afford him satisfaction on his calumniators.'
'I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm thereports which they have circulated,' said Colonel Talbot, 'byfollowing the very line of conduct ascribed to you. Are you aware,Mr. Waverley, of the infinite distress, and even danger, whichyour present conduct has occasioned to your nearest relatives?'
'Danger!'
'Yes, sir, danger. When I left England your uncle and father hadbeen obliged to find bail to answer a charge of treason, to whichthey were only admitted by the exertion of the most powerfulinterest. I came down to Scotland with the sole purpose ofrescuing you from the gulf into which you have precipitatedyourself; nor can I estimate the consequences to your family ofyour having openly joined the rebellion, since the very suspicionof your intention was so perilous to them. Most deeply do I regretthat I did not meet you before this last and fatal error.'
'I am really ignorant,' said Waverley, in a tone of reserve, 'whyColonel Talbot should have taken so much trouble on my account.'
'Mr. Waverley,' answered Talbot, 'I am dull at apprehending irony;and therefore I shall answer your words according to their plainmeaning. I am indebted to your uncle for benefits greater thanthose which a son owes to a father. I acknowledge to him the dutyof a son; and as I know there is no manner in which I can requitehis kindness so well as by serving you, I will serve you, ifpossible, whether you will permit me or no. The personalobligation which you have this day laid me under (although, incommon estimation, as great as one human being can bestow onanother) adds nothing to my zeal on your behalf; nor can that zealbe abated by any coolness with which you may please to receiveit.'
'Your intentions may be kind, sir,' said Waverley, drily; 'butyour language is harsh, or at least peremptory.'
'On my return to England,' continued Colonel Talbot, 'after longabsence, I found your uncle, Sir Everard Waverley, in the custodyof a king's messenger, in consequence of the suspicion broughtupon him by your conduct. He is my oldest friend--how often shallI repeat it?--my best benefactor! he sacrificed his own views ofhappiness to mine; he never uttered a word, he never harboured athought, that benevolence itself might not have thought or spoken.I found this man in confinement, rendered harsher to him by hishabits of life
, his natural dignity of feeling, and--forgive me,Mr. Waverley--by the cause through which this calamity had comeupon him. I cannot disguise from you my feelings upon thisoccasion; they were most painfully unfavorable to you. Having bymy family interest, which you probably know is not inconsiderable,succeeded in obtaining Sir Everard's release, I set out forScotland. I saw Colonel Gardiner, a man whose fate alone issufficient to render this insurrection for ever execrable. In thecourse of conversation with him I found that, from latecircumstances, from a reexamination of the persons engaged in themutiny, and from his original good opinion of your character, hewas much softened towards you; and I doubted not that, if I couldbe so fortunate as to discover you, all might yet be well. Butthis unnatural rebellion has ruined all. I have, for the firsttime in a long and active military life, seen Britons disgracethemselves by a panic flight, and that before a foe without eitherarms or discipline. And now I find the heir of my dearest friend--the son, I may say, of his affections--sharing a triumph forwhich he ought the first to have blushed. Why should I lamentGardiner? his lot was happy compared to mine!'
There was so much dignity in Colonel Talbot's manner, such amixture of military pride and manly sorrow, and the news of SirEverard's imprisonment was told in so deep a tone of feeling, thatEdward stood mortified, abashed, and distressed in presence of theprisoner who owed to him his life not many hours before. He wasnot sorry when Fergus interrupted their conference a second time.
'His Royal Highness commands Mr. Waverley's attendance.' ColonelTalbot threw upon Edward a reproachful glance, which did notescape the quick eye of the Highland Chief. 'His immediateattendance,' he repeated, with considerable emphasis. Waverleyturned again towards the Colonel.
'We shall meet again,' he said; 'in the meanwhile, every possibleaccommodation--'
'I desire none,' said the Colonel; 'let me fare like the meanestof those brave men who, on this day of calamity, have preferredwounds and captivity to flight; I would almost exchange placeswith one of those who have fallen to know that my words have madea suitable impression on your mind.'
'Let Colonel Talbot be carefully secured,' said Fergus to theHighland officer who commanded the guard over the prisoners; 'itis the Prince's particular command; he is a prisoner of the utmostimportance.'
'But let him want no accommodation suitable to his rank,' saidWaverley. 'Consistent always with secure custody,' reiteratedFergus. The officer signified his acquiescence in both commands,and Edward followed Fergus to the garden-gate, where Callum Beg,with three saddle-horses, awaited them. Turning his head, he sawColonel Talbot reconducted to his place of confinement by a fileof Highlanders; he lingered on the threshold of the door and madea signal with his hand towards Waverley, as if enforcing thelanguage he had held towards him.
'Horses,' said Fergus, as he mounted, 'are now as plenty asblackberries; every man may have them for the catching. Come, letCallum adjust your stirrups and let us to Pinkie House [Footnote:Charles Edward took up his quarters after the battle at PinkieHouse, adjoining to Musselburgh.] as fast as these ci-devantdragoon-horses choose to carry us.'