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 godown to the glen to acquaint the Baron with their import. But thecautious Bailie justly observed that, if the Baron were to appearinstantly in public, the tenantry and villagers might becomeriotous in expressing their joy, and give offence to 'the powersthat be,' a sort of persons for whom the Bailie always hadunlimited respect. He therefore proposed that Mr. Waverley shouldgo to Janet Gellatley's and bring the Baron up under cloud ofnight to Little Veolan, where he might once more enjoy the luxuryof a good bed. In the meanwhile, he said, he himself would go toCaptain Foster and show him the Baron's protection, and obtain hiscountenance for harbouring him that night, and he would havehorses ready on the morrow to set him on his way to the Duchranalong with Mr. Stanley, 'whilk denomination, I apprehend, yourhonour will for the present 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 sunsetafore I get back frae the Captain's, and at these unsonsy hoursthe glen has a bad name; there's something no that canny aboutauld Janet Gellatley. The Laird he'll no believe thae things, buthe was aye ower rash and venturesome, and feared neither man nordeevil, an sae's seen o't. But right sure am I Sir GeorgeMackenyie says, that no divine can doubt there are witches, sincethe Bible says thou shalt not suffer them to live; and that nolawyer in Scotland can doubt it, since it is punishable with deathby our law. So there's baith law and gospel for it. An his honourwinna believe the Leviticus, he might aye believe the Statute-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's best no to lightly them that have that character; and we'llwant Davie to turn the spit, for I'll gar Eppie put down a fatgoose to the fire for your honours to your supper.'
When it was near sunset Waverley hastened to the hut; and he couldnot but allow that superstition had chosen no improper locality,or unfit object, for the foundation of her fantastic terrors. Itresembled exactly 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 oldJanet, bent double with age and bleared with peat-smoke, wastottering about the hut with a birch broom, muttering to herselfas she endeavoured to make her hearth and floor a little clean forthe reception of her expected guests. Waverley's step made herstart, look up, and fall a-trembling, so much had her nerves beenon the rack for her patron's safety. With difficulty Waverley madeher comprehend that the Baron was now safe from personal danger;and when her mind had admitted that joyful news, it was equallyhard to make her believe that he was not to enter again uponpossession of his estate. 'It behoved to be,' she said, 'he wadget it back again; naebody wad be sae gripple as to tak his gearafter they had gi'en him a pardon: and for that Inch-Grabbit, Icould whiles wish mysell a witch for his sake, if I werena fearedthe Enemy wad tak me at my word.' Waverley then gave her somemoney, and promised that her fidelity should be rewarded. 'How canI be rewarded, sir, sae weel as just to see my auld maister andMiss Rose come back and bruik their ain?'
Waverley now took leave of Janet, and soon stood beneath theBaron's Patmos. At a low whistle he observed the veteran peepingout to reconnoitre, like an old badger with his head out of hishole. 'Ye hae come rather early, my good lad,' said he,descending; 'I question if the red-coats hae beat the tattoo yet,and we're not safe till then.'
'Good news cannot be told too soon,' said Waverley; and withinfinite joy communicated to him the happy tidings. The old manstood for a moment in silent devotion, then exclaimed, 'Praise beto God! I shall see 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 supportingher; for my things are but in a bruckle state;--but what signifieswarld's gear?'
'And if,' said Waverley modestly, 'there were a situation in lifewhich would put Miss Bradwardine beyond the uncertainty offortune, and in the rank to which she was born, would you objectto it, my dear Baron, because it would make one of your friendsthe happiest man in the world?' The Baron turned and looked at himwith great earnestness. 'Yes,' continued Edward, 'I shall notconsider my sentence of banishment as repealed unless you willgive me permission to accompany you to the Duchran, and--'
The Baron seemed collecting all his dignity to make a suitablereply to what, at another time, he would have treated as thepropounding a treaty of alliance between the houses of Bradwardineand Waverley. But his efforts were in vain; the father was toomighty for the Baron; the pride of birth and rank were swept away;in the joyful surprise a slight convulsion passed rapidly over hisfeatures, as he gave way to the feelings of nature, threw his armsaround Waverley's neck, and sobbed out--'My son, my son! if I hadbeen to search the world, I would have made my choice here.'Edward returned the embrace with great sympathy of feeling, andfor a little while they both kept silence. At length it was brokenby Edward. 'But Miss Bradwardine?'
'She had never a will but her old father's; besides, you are alikely youth, of honest principles and high birth; no, she neverhad any other will than mine, and in my proudest days I could nothave wished a mair eligible espousal for her than the nephew of myexcellent old friend, Sir Everard. But I hope, young man, ye dealna rashly in this matter? I hope ye hae secured the approbation ofyour ain friends and allies, particularly of your uncle, who is inloco parentis? Ah! we maun tak heed o' that.' Edward assured himthat Sir Everard would think himself highly honoured in theflattering reception his proposal had met with, and that it hadhis entire approbation; in evidence of which he put ColonelTalbot's letter into the Baron's hand. The Baron read it withgreat attention. 'Sir Everard,' he said, 'always despised wealthin comparison of honour and birth; and indeed he hath no occasionto court the Diva Pecunia. Yet I now wish, since this Malcolmturns out such a parricide, for I can call him no better, as tothink of alienating the family inheritance--I now wish (his eyesfixed on a part of the roof which was visible above the trees)that I could have left Rose the auld hurley-house and the riggsbelanging to it. And yet,' said he, resuming more cheerfully,'it's maybe as weel as it is; for, as Baron of Bradwardine, Imight have thought it my duty to insist upon certain compliancesrespecting name and bearings, whilk now, as a landless laird wi' atocherless daughter, no one can blame me for departing from.'
'Now, Heaven be praised!' thought Edward,'that Sir Everard doesnot hear these scruples! The three ermines passant and rampantbear would certainly have gone together by the ears.' He then,with all the ardour of a young lover, assured the Baron that hesought for his happiness only in Rose's heart and hand, andthought himself as happy in her father's simple approbation as ifhe had settled an earldom upon his daughter.
They now reached Little Veolan. The goose was smoking on thetable, and the Bailie brandished his knife and fork. A joyousgreeting took place between him and his patron. The kitchen, too,had its company. Auld Janet was established at the ingle-nook;Davie had turned the spit to his immortal honour; and even Ban andBuscar, in the liberality of Macwheeble's joy, had been stuffed tothe throat with food, and now lay snoring on the floor.
The next day conducted the Baron and his young friend to theDuchran, where the former was expected, in consequence of thesuccess of the nearly unanimous application of the Scottishfriends of government in his favour. This had been so general andso powerful that
it was almost thought his estate might have beensaved, had it not passed into the rapacious hands of his unworthykinsman, whose right, arising out of the Baron's attainder, couldnot be affected by a pardon from the crown. The old gentleman,however, said, with his usual spirit, he was more gratified by thehold he possessed in the good opinion of his neighbours than hewould have been in being rehabilitated and restored in 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 undersuch perilous circumstances. Still less shall we attempt toanalyse the deep blush of Rose at receiving the compliments ofWaverley, or stop to inquire whether she had any curiosityrespecting the particular cause of his journey to Scotland at thatperiod. We shall not even trouble the reader with the humdrumdetails of a courtship Sixty Years Since. It is enough to saythat, under so strict a martinet as the Baron, all things wereconducted in due form. He took upon himself, the morning aftertheir arrival, the task of announcing the proposal of Waverley toRose, which she heard with a proper degree of maiden timidity.Fame does, however, say that Waverley had the evening before foundfive minutes to apprise her of what was coming, while the rest ofthe company were looking at three twisted serpents which formed a,jet d'eau in the garden.
My fair readers will judge for themselves; but, for my part, Icannot conceive how so important an affair could be communicatedin so short a space of time; at least, it certainly took a fullhour in the Baron's mode of conveying it.
Waverley was now considered as a received lover in all the forms.He was made, by dint of smirking and nodding on the part of thelady of the house, to sit next Miss Bradwardine at dinner, to beMiss Bradwardine's partner at cards. If he came into the room, sheof the four Miss Rubricks who chanced to be next Rose was sure torecollect that her thimble or her scissors were at the other endof the room, in order to leave the seat nearest to MissBradwardine vacant for his occupation. And sometimes, if papa andmamma were not in the way to keep them on their good behaviour,the misses would titter a little. The old Laird of Duchran wouldalso have his occasional jest, and the old lady her remark. Eventhe Baron could not refrain; but here Rose escaped everyembarrassment but that of conjecture, for his wit was usuallycouched in a Latin quotation. The very footmen sometimes grinnedtoo broadly, the maidservants giggled mayhap too loud, and aprovoking air of intelligence seemed to pervade the whole family.Alice Bean, 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 andEdward, however, endured all these little vexatious circumstancesas other folks have done before and since, and probably contrivedto obtain some indemnification, since they are not supposed, onthe whole, to have been particularly unhappy during Waverley's sixdays' stay at the Duchran.
It was finally arranged that Edward should go to Waverley-Honourto make the necessary arrangements for his marriage, thence toLondon to take the proper measures for pleading his pardon, andreturn as soon as possible to claim the hand of his plightedbride. He also intended in his journey to visit Colonel Talbot;but, above all, it was his most important object to learn the fateof the unfortunate Chief of Glennaquoich; to visit him atCarlisle, and to try whether anything could be done for procuring,if not a pardon, a commutation at least, or alleviation, of thepunishment to which he was almost certain of being condemned; and,in case of the worst, to offer the miserable Flora an asylum withRose, or otherwise to assist her views in any mode which mightseem possible. The fate of Fergus seemed hard to be averted.Edward had already striven to interest his friend, Colonel Talbot,in his behalf; but had been given distinctly to understand by hisreply that his credit in matters of that nature was totallyexhausted.
The Colonel was still in Edinburgh, and proposed to wait there forsome months upon business confided to him by the Duke ofCumberland. He was to be joined by Lady Emily, to whom easytravelling and goat's whey were recommended, and who was tojourney northward under the escort of Francis Stanley. Edward,therefore, met the Colonel at Edinburgh, who wished him joy in thekindest manner on his approaching happiness, and cheerfullyundertook many commissions which our hero was necessarily obligedto delegate to his charge. But on the subject of Fergus he wasinexorable. He satisfied Edward, indeed, that his interferencewould be unavailing; but, besides, Colonel Talbot owned that hecould not conscientiously use any influence in favour of thatunfortunate gentleman. 'Justice,' he said, 'which demanded somepenalty of those who had wrapped the whole nation in fear and inmourning, could not perhaps have selected a fitter victim. He cameto the field with the fullest light upon the nature of hisattempt. He had studied and understood the subject. His father'sfate could not intimidate him; the lenity of the laws which hadrestored to him his father's property and rights could not melthim. That he was brave, generous, and possessed many goodqualities only rendered him the more dangerous; that he wasenlightened and accomplished made his crime the less excusable;that he was an enthusiast in a wrong cause only made him the morefit to be its martyr. Above all, he had been the means of bringingmany hundreds of men into the field who, without him, would neverhave broken the peace of 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 hasplayed. He threw for life or death, a coronet or a coffin; and hecannot now be permitted, with justice to the country, to drawstakes because the dice have gone against him.'
Such was the reasoning of those times, held even by brave andhumane men towards a vanquished enemy. Let us devoutly hope that,in this respect at least, we shall never see the scenes or holdthe sentiments that were general in Britain Sixty Years Since.