CHAPTER LXVIII

  To morrow? O that's sudden!--Spare him, spare him'

  SHAKSPEARE

  Edward, attended by his former servant Alick Polwarth, who hadreentered his service at Edinburgh, reached Carlisle while thecommission of Oyer and Terminer on his unfortunate associates wasyet sitting. He had pushed forward in haste, not, alas! with themost distant hope of saving Fergus, but to see him for the lasttime. I ought to have mentioned that he had furnished funds forthe defence of the prisoners in the most liberal manner, as soonas he heard that the day of trial was fixed. A solicitor and thefirst counsel accordingly attended; but it was upon the samefooting on which the first physicians are usually summoned to thebedside of some dying man of rank--the doctors to take theadvantage of some incalculable chance of an exertion of nature,the lawyers to avail themselves of the barely possible occurrenceof some legal flaw. Edward pressed into the court, which wasextremely crowded; but by his arriving from the north, and hisextreme eagerness and agitation, it was supposed he was a relationof the prisoners, and people made way for him. It was the thirdsitting of the court, and there were two men at the bar. Theverdict of GUILTY was already pronounced. Edward just glanced atthe bar during the momentous pause which ensued. There was nomistaking the stately form and noble features of Fergus Mac-Ivor,although his dress was squalid and his countenance tinged with thesickly yellow hue of long and close imprisonment. By his side wasEvan Maccombich. Edward felt sick and dizzy as he gazed on them;but he was recalled to himself as the Clerk of Arraigns pronouncedthe solemn words: 'Fergus Mac-Ivor of Glennaquoich, otherwisecalled Vich Ian Vohr, and Evan Mac-Ivor, in the Dhu ofTarrascleugh, otherwise called Evan Dhu, otherwise called EvanMaccombich, or Evan Dhu MacCombich--you, and each of you, standattainted of high treason. What have you to say for yourselves whythe Court should not pronounce judgment against you, that you dieaccording to law?'

  Fergus, as the presiding Judge was putting on the fatal cap ofjudgment, placed his own bonnet upon his head, regarded him with asteadfast and stern look, and replied in a firm voice, 'I cannotlet this numerous audience suppose that to such an appeal I haveno answer to make. But what I have to say you would not bear tohear, for my defence would be your condemnation. Proceed, then, inthe name of God, to do what is permitted to you. Yesterday and theday before you have condemned loyal and honourable blood to bepoured forth like water. Spare not mine. Were that of all myancestors in my veins, I would have perilled it in this quarrel.'He resumed his seat and refused again to rise.

  Evan Maccombich looked at him with great earnestness, and, risingup, seemed anxious to speak; but the confusion of the court, andthe perplexity arising from thinking in a language different fromthat in which he was to express himself, kept him silent. Therewas a murmur of compassion among the spectators, from the ideathat the poor fellow intended to plead the influence of hissuperior as an excuse for his crime. The Judge commanded silence,and encouraged Evan to proceed. 'I was only ganging to say, mylord,' said Evan, in what he meant to be an insinuating manner,'that if your excellent honour and the honourable Court would letVich Ian Vohr go free just this once, and let him gae back toFrance, and no to trouble King George's government again, that onysix o' the very best of his clan will be willing to be justifiedin his stead; and if you'll just let me gae down to Glennaquoich,I'll fetch them up to ye mysell, to head or hang, and you maybegin wi' me the very first man.'

  Notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion, a sort of laugh washeard in the court at the extraordinary nature of the proposal.The Judge checked this indecency, and Evan, looking sternlyaround, when the murmur abated, 'If the Saxon gentlemen arelaughing,' he said, 'because a poor man, such as me, thinks mylife, or the life of six of my degree, is worth that of Vich IanVohr, it's like enough they may be very right; but if they laughbecause they think I would not keep my word and come back toredeem him, I can tell them they ken neither the heart of aHielandman nor the honour of a gentleman.'

  There was no farther inclination to laugh among the audience, anda dead silence ensued.

  The Judge then pronounced upon both prisoners the sentence of thelaw of high treason, with all its horrible accompaniments. Theexecution was appointed for the ensuing day. 'For you, Fergus Mac-Ivor,' continued the Judge, 'I can hold out no hope of mercy. Youmust prepare against to-morrow for your last sufferings here, andyour great audit hereafter.'

  'I desire nothing else, my lord,' answered Fergus, in the samemanly and firm tone.

  The hard eyes of Evan, which had been perpetually bent on hisChief, were moistened with a tear. 'For you, poor ignorant man,'continued the Judge, 'who, following the ideas in which you havebeen educated, have this day given us a striking example how theloyalty due to the king and state alone is, from your unhappyideas of clanship, transferred to some ambitious individual whoends by making you the tool of his crimes--for you, I say, I feelso much compassion that, if you can make up your mind to petitionfor grace, I will endeavour to procure it for you. Otherwise--'

  'Grace me no grace,' said Evan; 'since you are to shed Vich IanVohr's blood, the only favour I would accept from you is to bidthem loose my hands and gie me my claymore, and bide you just aminute sitting where you are!'

  'Remove the prisoners,' said the Judge; 'his blood be upon his ownhead.'

  Almost stupefied with his feelings, Edward found that the rush ofthe crowd had conveyed him out into the street ere he knew what hewas doing. His immediate wish was to see and speak with Fergusonce more. He applied at the Castle where his unfortunate friendwas confined, but was refused admittance. 'The High Sheriff,' anon-commissioned officer said, 'had requested of the governor thatnone should be admitted to see the prisoner excepting hisconfessor and his sister.'

  'And where was Miss Mac-Ivor?' They gave him the direction. It wasthe house of a respectable Catholic family near Carlisle.

  Repulsed from the gate of the Castle, and not venturing to makeapplication to the High Sheriff or Judges in his own unpopularname, he had recourse to the solicitor who came down in Fergus'sbehalf. This gentleman told him that it was thought the publicmind was in danger of being debauched by the account of the lastmoments of these persons, as given by the friends of thePretender; that there had been a resolution, therefore, to excludeall such persons as had not the plea of near kindred for attendingupon them. Yet he promised (to oblige the heir of Waverley-Honour)to get him an order for admittance to the prisoner the nextmorning, before his irons were knocked off for execution.

  'Is it of Fergus Mac-Ivor they speak thus,' thought Waverley, 'ordo I dream? Of Fergus, the bold, the chivalrous, the free-minded,the lofty chieftain of a tribe devoted to him? Is it he, that Ihave seen lead the chase and head the attack, the brave, theactive, the young, the noble, the love of ladies, and the theme ofsong,--is it he who is ironed like a malefactor, who is to bedragged on a hurdle to the common gallows, to die a lingering andcruel death, and to be mangled by the hand of the most outcast ofwretches? Evil indeed was the spectre that boded such a fate asthis to the brave Chief of Glennaquoich!'

  With a faltering voice he requested the solicitor to find means towarn Fergus of his intended visit, should he obtain permission tomake it. He then turned away from him, and, returning to the inn,wrote a scarcely intelligible note to Flora Mac-Ivor, intimatinghis purpose to wait upon her that evening. The messenger broughtback a letter in Flora's beautiful Italian hand, which seemedscarce to tremble even under this load of misery. 'Miss Flora Mac-Ivor,' the letter bore, 'could not refuse to see the dearestfriend of her dear brother, even in her present circumstances ofunparalleled distress.'

  When Edward reached Miss Mac-Ivor's present place of abode he wasinstantly admitted. In a large and gloomy tapestried apartmentFlora was seated by a latticed window, sewing what seemed to be agarment of white flannel. At a little distance sat an elderlywoman, apparently a foreigner, and of a religious order. She wasreading in a book of Catholic devotion, but when Waverley enteredlaid it on the table and left the room. Flora rose t
o receive him,and stretched out her hand, but neither ventured to attemptspeech. Her fine complexion was totally gone; her personconsiderably emaciated; and her face and hands as white as thepurest statuary marble, forming a strong contrast with her sabledress and jet-black hair. Yet, amid these marks of distress therewas nothing negligent or ill-arranged about her attire; even herhair, though totally without ornament, was disposed with her usualattention to neatness. The first words she uttered were, 'Have youseen him?'

  'Alas, no,' answered Waverley, 'I have been refused admittance.'

  'It accords with the rest,' she said; 'but we must submit. Shallyou obtain leave, do you suppose?'

  'For--for--tomorrow,' said Waverley; but muttering the last wordso faintly that it was almost unintelligible.

  'Ay, then or never,' said Flora, 'until'--she added, lookingupward--'the time when, I trust, we shall all meet. But I hope youwill see him while earth yet bears him. He always loved you at hisheart, though--but it is vain to talk of the past.'

  'Vain indeed!' echoed Waverley.

  'Or even of the future, my good friend,' said Flora,'so far asearthly events are concerned; for how often have I pictured tomyself the strong possibility of this horrid issue, and taskedmyself to consider how I could support my part; and yet how farhas all my anticipation fallen short of the unimaginablebitterness of this hour!'

  'Dear Flora, if your strength of mind--'

  'Ay, there it is,' she answered, somewhat wildly; 'there is, Mr.Waverley, there is a busy devil at my heart that whispers--but itwere madness to listen to it--that the strength of mind on whichFlora prided herself has murdered her brother!'

  'Good God! how can you give utterance to a thought so shocking?'

  'Ay, is it not so? but yet it haunts me like a phantom; I know itis unsubstantial and vain; but it will be present; will intrudeits horrors on my mind; will whisper that my brother, as volatileas ardent, would have divided his energies amid a hundred objects.It was I who taught him to concentrate them and to gage all onthis dreadful and desperate cast. Oh that I could recollect that Ihad but once said to him, "He that striketh with the sword shalldie by the sword"; that I had but once said, "Remain at home;reserve yourself, your vassals, your life, for enterprises withinthe reach of man." But O, Mr. Waverley, I spurred his fierytemper, and half of his ruin at least lies with his sister!'

  The horrid idea which she had intimated, Edward endeavoured tocombat by every incoherent argument that occurred to him. Herecalled to her the principles on which both thought it their dutyto act, and in which they had been educated.

  'Do not think I have forgotten them,' she said, looking up witheager quickness; 'I do not regret his attempt because it waswrong!--O no! on that point I am armed--but because it wasimpossible it could end otherwise than thus.'

  'Yet it did not always seem so desperate and hazardous as it was;and it would have been chosen by the bold spirit of Fergus whetheryou had approved it or no; your counsels only served to give unityand consistence to his conduct; to dignify, but not toprecipitate, his resolution.' Flora had soon ceased to listen toEdward, and was again intent upon her needlework.

  'Do you remember,' she said, looking up with a ghastly smile, 'youonce found me making Fergus's bride-favours, and now I am sewinghis bridal garment. Our friends here,' she continued, withsuppressed emotion, 'are to give hallowed earth in their chapel tothe bloody relics of the last Vich Ian Vohr. But they will not allrest together; no--his head!--I shall not have the last miserableconsolation of kissing the cold lips of my dear, dear Fergus!'

  The unfortunate Flora here, after one or two hysterical sobs,fainted in her chair. The lady, who had been attending in theante-room, now entered hastily, and begged Edward to leave theroom, but not the house.

  When he was recalled, after the space of nearly half an hour, hefound that, by a strong effort, Miss Mac-Ivor had greatly composedherself. It was then he ventured to urge Miss Bradwardine's claimto be considered as an adopted sister, and empowered to assist herplans for the future.

  'I have had a letter from my dear Rose,' she replied, 'to the samepurpose. Sorrow is selfish and engrossing, or I would have writtento express that, even in my own despair, I felt a gleam ofpleasure at learning her happy prospects, and at hearing that thegood old Baron has escaped the general wreck. Give this to mydearest Rose; it is her poor Flora's only ornament of value, andwas the gift of a princess.' She put into his hands a casecontaining the chain of diamonds with which she used to decorateher hair. 'To me it is in future useless. The kindness of myfriends has secured me a retreat in the convent of the ScottishBenedictine nuns in Paris. Tomorrow--if indeed I can survivetomorrow--I set forward on my journey with this venerable sister.And now, Mr. Waverley, adieu! May you be as happy with Rose asyour amiable dispositions deserve; and think sometimes on thefriends you have lost. Do not attempt to see me again; it would bemistaken kindness.'

  She gave him her hand, on which Edward shed a torrent of tears,and with a faltering step withdrew from the apartment, andreturned to the town of Carlisle. At the inn he found a letterfrom his law friend intimating that he would be admitted to Fergusnext morning as soon as the Castle gates were opened, andpermitted to remain with him till the arrival of the Sheriff gavesignal for the fatal procession.