CHAPTER XXXVII
WAVERLEY IS STILL IN DISTRESS
The velocity, and indeed violence, with which Waverley was hurriedalong nearly deprived him of sensation; for the injury he hadreceived from his fall prevented him from aiding himself soeffectually as he might otherwise have done. When this wasobserved by his conductors, they called to their aid two or threeothers of the party, and, swathing our hero's body in one of theirplaids, divided his weight by that means among them, andtransported him at the same rapid rate as before, without anyexertion of his own. They spoke little, and that in Gaelic; anddid not slacken their pace till they had run nearly two miles,when they abated their extreme rapidity, but continued still towalk very fast, relieving each other occasionally.
Our hero now endeavoured to address them, but was only answeredwith 'Cha n'eil Beurl agam' i.e. 'I have no English,' being, asWaverley well knew, the constant reply of a Highlander when heeither does not understand or does not choose to reply to anEnglishman or Lowlander. He then mentioned the name of Vich lanVohr, concluding that he was indebted to his friendship for hisrescue from the clutches of Gifted Gilfillan, but neither did thisproduce any mark of recognition from his escort.
The twilight had given place to moonshine when the party haltedupon the brink of a precipitous glen, which, as partly enlightenedby the moonbeams, seemed full of trees and tangled brushwood. Twoof the Highlanders dived into it by a small foot-path, as if toexplore its recesses, and one of them returning in a few minutes,said something to his companions, who instantly raised theirburden and bore him, with great attention and care, down thenarrow and abrupt descent. Notwithstanding their precautions,however, Waverley's person came more than once into contact,rudely enough, with the projecting stumps and branches whichoverhung the pathway.
At the bottom of the descent, and, as it seemed, by the side of abrook (for Waverley heard the rushing of a considerable body ofwater, although its stream was invisible in the darkness), theparty again stopped before a small and rudely-constructed hovel.The door was open, and the inside of the premises appeared asuncomfortable and rude as its situation and exterior foreboded.There was no appearance of a floor of any kind; the roof seemedrent in several places; the walls were composed of loose stonesand turf, and the thatch of branches of trees. The fire was in thecentre, and filled the whole wigwam with smoke, which escaped asmuch through the door as by means of a circular aperture in theroof. An old Highland sibyl, the only inhabitant of this forlornmansion, appeared busy in the preparation of some food. By thelight which the fire afforded Waverley could discover that hisattendants were not of the clan of Ivor, for Fergus wasparticularly strict in requiring from his followers that theyshould wear the tartan striped in the mode peculiar to their race;a mark of distinction anciently general through the Highlands, andstill maintained by those Chiefs who were proud of their lineageor jealous of their separate and exclusive authority.
Edward had lived at Glennaquoich long enough to be aware of adistinction which he had repeatedly heard noticed, and nowsatisfied that he had no interest with his attendants, he glanceda disconsolate eye around the interior of the cabin. The onlyfurniture, excepting a washing-tub and a wooden press, called inScotland an ambry, sorely decayed, was a large wooden bed,planked, as is usual, all around, and opening by a sliding panel.In this recess the Highlanders deposited Waverley, after he had bysigns declined any refreshment. His slumbers were broken andunrefreshing; strange visions passed before his eyes, and itrequired constant and reiterated efforts of mind to dispel them.Shivering, violent headache, and shooting pains in his limbssucceeded these symptoms; and in the morning it was evident to hisHighland attendants or guard, for he knew not in which light toconsider them, that Waverley was quite unfit to travel.
After a long consultation among themselves, six of the party leftthe hut with their arms, leaving behind an old and a young man.The former addressed Waverley, and bathed the contusions, whichswelling and livid colour now made conspicuous. His ownportmanteau, which the Highlanders had not failed to bring off,supplied him with linen, and to his great surprise was, with allits undiminished contents, freely resigned to his use. The beddingof his couch seemed clean and comfortable, and his aged attendantclosed the door of the bed, for it had no curtain, after a fewwords of Gaelic, from which Waverley gathered that he exhorted himto repose. So behold our hero for a second time the patient of aHighland Esculapius, but in a situation much more uncomfortablethan when he was the guest of the worthy Tomanrait.
The symptomatic fever which accompanied the injuries he hadsustained did not abate till the third day, when it gave way tothe care of his attendants and the strength of his constitution,and he could now raise himself in his bed, though not withoutpain. He observed, however, that there was a great disinclinationon the part of the old woman who acted as his nurse, as well as onthat of the elderly Highlander, to permit the door of the bed tobe left open, so that he might amuse himself with observing theirmotions; and at length, after Waverley had repeatedly drawn openand they had as frequently shut the hatchway of his cage, the oldgentleman put an end to the contest by securing it on the outsidewith a nail so effectually that the door could not be drawn tillthis exterior impediment was removed.
While musing upon the cause of this contradictory spirit inpersons whose conduct intimated no purpose of plunder, and who, inall other points, appeared to consult his welfare and his wishes,it occurred to our hero that, during the worst crisis of hisillness, a female figure, younger than his old Highland nurse, hadappeared to flit around his couch. Of this, indeed, he had but avery indistinct recollection, but his suspicions were confirmedwhen, attentively listening, he often heard, in the course of theday, the voice of another female conversing in whispers with hisattendant. Who could it be? And why should she apparently desireconcealment? Fancy immediately aroused herself and turned to FloraMac-Ivor. But after a short conflict between his eager desire tobelieve she was in his neighbourhood, guarding, like an angel ofmercy, the couch of his sickness, Waverley was compelled toconclude that his conjecture was altogether improbable; since, tosuppose she had left her comparatively safe situation atGlennaquoich to descend into the Low Country, now the seat ofcivil war, and to inhabit such a lurking-place as this, was athing hardly to be imagined. Yet his heart bounded as he sometimescould distinctly hear the trip of a light female step glide to orfrom the door of the hut, or the suppressed sounds of a femalevoice, of softness and delicacy, hold dialogue with the hoarseinward croak of old Janet, for so he understood his antiquatedattendant was denominated.
Having nothing else to amuse his solitude, he employed himself incontriving some plan to gratify his curiosity, in despite of thesedulous caution of Janet and the old Highland janizary, for hehad never seen the young fellow since the first morning. Atlength, upon accurate examination, the infirm state of his woodenprison-house appeared to supply the means of gratifying hiscuriosity, for out of a spot which was somewhat decayed he wasable to extract a nail. Through this minute aperture he couldperceive a female form, wrapped in a plaid, in the act ofconversing with Janet. But, since the days of our grandmother Eve,the gratification of inordinate curiosity has generally borne itspenalty in disappointment. The form was not that of Flora, nor wasthe face visible; and, to crown his vexation, while he labouredwith the nail to enlarge the hole, that he might obtain a morecomplete view, a slight noise betrayed his purpose, and the objectof his curiosity instantly disappeared, nor, so far as he couldobserve, did she again revisit the cottage.
All precautions to blockade his view were from that timeabandoned, and he was not only permitted but assisted to rise, andquit what had been, in a literal sense, his couch of confinement.But he was not allowed to leave the hut; for the young Highlanderhad now rejoined his senior, and one or other was constantly onthe watch. Whenever Waverley approached the cottage door thesentinel upon duty civilly, but resolutely, placed himself againstit and opposed his exit, accompanying his action with signs whichseemed to imply there was danger in t
he attempt and an enemy inthe neighbourhood. Old Janet appeared anxious and upon the watch;and Waverley, who had not yet recovered strength enough to attemptto take his departure in spite of the opposition of his hosts, wasunder the necessity of remaining patient. His fare was, in everypoint of view, better than he could have conceived, for poultry,and even wine, were no strangers to his table. The Highlandersnever presumed to eat with him, and, unless in the circumstance ofwatching him, treated him with great respect. His sole amusementwas gazing from the window, or rather the shapeless aperture whichwas meant to answer the purpose of a window, upon a large andrough brook, which raged and foamed through a rocky channel,closely canopied with trees and bushes, about ten feet beneath thesite of his house of captivity.
Upon the sixth day of his confinement Waverley found himself sowell that he began to meditate his escape from this dull andmiserable prison-house, thinking any risk which he might incur inthe attempt preferable to the stupefying and intolerableuniformity of Janet's retirement. The question indeed occurred,whither he was to direct his course when again at his owndisposal. Two schemes seemed practicable, yet both attended withdanger and difficulty. One was to go back to Glennaquoich and joinFergus Mac-Ivor, by whom he was sure to be kindly received; and inthe present state of his mind, the rigour with which he had beentreated fully absolved him, in his own eyes, from his allegianceto the existing government. The other project was to endeavour toattain a Scottish seaport, and thence to take shipping forEngland. His mind wavered between these plans, and probably, if hehad effected his escape in the manner he proposed, he would havebeen finally determined by the comparative facility by whicheither might have been executed. But his fortune had settled thathe was not to be left to his option.
Upon the evening of the seventh day the door of the hut suddenlyopened, and two Highlanders entered, whom Waverley recognised ashaving been a part of his original escort to this cottage. Theyconversed for a short time with the old man and his companion, andthen made Waverley understand, by very significant signs, that hewas to prepare to accompany them. This was a joyful communication.What had already passed during his confinement made it evidentthat no personal injury was designed to him; and his romanticspirit, having recovered during his repose much of that elasticitywhich anxiety, resentment, disappointment, and the mixture ofunpleasant feelings excited by his late adventures had for a timesubjugated, was now wearied with inaction. His passion for thewonderful, although it is the nature of such dispositions to beexcited by that degree of danger which merely gives dignity to thefeeling of the individual exposed to it, had sunk under theextraordinary and apparently insurmountable evils by which heappeared environed at Cairnvreckan. In fact, this compound ofintense curiosity and exalted imagination forms a peculiar speciesof courage, which somewhat resembles the light usually carried bya miner--sufficiently competent, indeed, to afford him guidanceand comfort during the ordinary perils of his labour, but certainto be extinguished should he encounter the more formidable hazardof earth damps or pestiferous vapours. It was now, however, oncemore rekindled, and with a throbbing mixture of hope, awe, andanxiety, Waverley watched the group before him, as those who werejust arrived snatched a hasty meal, and the others assumed theirarms and made brief preparations for their departure.
As he sat in the smoky hut, at some distance from the fire, aroundwhich the others were crowded, he felt a gentle pressure upon hisarm. He looked round; it was Alice, the daughter of Donald BeanLean. She showed him a packet of papers in such a manner that themotion was remarked by no one else, put her finger for a second toher lips, and passed on, as if to assist old Janet in packingWaverley's clothes in his portmanteau. It was obviously her wishthat he should not seem to recognise her, yet she repeatedlylooked back at him, as an opportunity occurred of doing sounobserved, and when she saw that he remarked what she did, shefolded the packet with great address and speed in one of hisshirts, which she deposited in the portmanteau.
Here then was fresh food for conjecture. Was Alice his unknownwarden, and was this maiden of the cavern the tutelar genius thatwatched his bed during his sickness? Was he in the hands of herfather? and if so, what was his purpose? Spoil, his usual object,seemed in this case neglected; for not only Waverley's propertywas restored, but his purse, which might have tempted thisprofessional plunderer, had been all along suffered to remain inhis possession. All this perhaps the packet might explain; but itwas plain from Alice's manner that she desired he should consultit in secret. Nor did she again seek his eye after she hadsatisfied herself that her manoeuvre was observed and understood.On the contrary, she shortly afterwards left the hut, and it wasonly as she tript out from the door, that, favoured by theobscurity, she gave Waverley a parting smile and nod ofsignificance ere she vanished in the dark glen.
The young Highlander was repeatedly despatched by his comrades asif to collect intelligence. At length, when he had returned forthe third or fourth time, the whole party arose and made signs toour hero to accompany them. Before his departure, however, heshook hands with old Janet, who had been so sedulous in hisbehalf, and added substantial marks of his gratitude for herattendance.
'God bless you! God prosper you, Captain Waverley!' said Janet, ingood Lowland Scotch, though he had never hithero heard her utter asyllable, save in Gaelic. But the impatience of his attendantsprohibited his asking any explanation.