Old Mortality, Volume 1.

  CHAPTER VI.

  Yea, this man's brow, like to a tragic leaf, Foretells the nature of a tragic volume. Shakspeare.

  Being at length rid of the housekeeper's presence, Morton made acollection of what he had reserved from the provisions set before him,and prepared to carry them to his concealed guest. He did not think itnecessary to take a light, being perfectly acquainted with every turn ofthe road; and it was lucky he did not do so, for he had hardly steppedbeyond the threshold ere a heavy trampling of horses announced, that thebody of cavalry, whose kettle-drums [Note: Regimental music is neverplayed at night. But who can assure us that such was not the custom inCharles the Second's time? Till I am well informed on this point, thekettle-drums shall clash on, as adding something to the picturesqueeffect of the night march.] they had before heard, were in the act ofpassing along the high-road which winds round the foot of the bank onwhich the house of Milnwood was placed. He heard the commanding officerdistinctly give the word halt. A pause of silence followed, interruptedonly by the occasional neighing or pawing of an impatient charger.

  "Whose house is this?" said a voice, in a tone of authority and command.

  "Milnwood, if it like your honour," was the reply.

  "Is the owner well affected?" said the enquirer.

  "He complies with the orders of government, and frequents an indulgedminister," was the response.

  "Hum! ay! indulged? a mere mask for treason, very impolitically allowedto those who are too great cowards to wear their principles barefaced.--Had we not better send up a party and search the house, in case some ofthe bloody villains concerned in this heathenish butchery may beconcealed in it?"

  Ere Morton could recover from the alarm into which this proposal hadthrown him, a third speaker rejoined, "I cannot think it at allnecessary; Milnwood is an infirm, hypochondriac old man, who nevermeddles with politics, and loves his moneybags and bonds better than anything else in the world. His nephew, I hear, was at the wappenschawto-day, and gained the popinjay, which does not look like a fanatic. Ishould think they are all gone to bed long since, and an alarm at thistime of night might kill the poor old man."

  "Well," rejoined the leader, "if that be so, to search the house would belost time, of which we have but little to throw away. Gentlemen of theLife-Guards, forward--March!"

  A few notes on the trumpet, mingled with the occasional boom of thekettle-drum, to mark the cadence, joined with the tramp of hoofs and theclash of arms, announced that the troop had resumed its march. The moonbroke out as the leading files of the column attained a hill up which theroad winded, and showed indistinctly the glittering of the steel-caps;and the dark figures of the horses and riders might be imperfectly tracedthrough the gloom. They continued to advance up the hill, and sweep overthe top of it in such long succession, as intimated a considerablenumerical force.

  When the last of them had disappeared, young Morton resumed his purposeof visiting his guest. Upon entering the place of refuge, he found himseated on his humble couch with a pocket Bible open in his hand, which heseemed to study with intense meditation. His broadsword, which he hadunsheathed in the first alarm at the arrival of the dragoons, lay nakedacross his knees, and the little taper that stood beside him upon the oldchest, which served the purpose of a table, threw a partial and imperfectlight upon those stern and harsh features, in which ferocity was renderedmore solemn and dignified by a wild cast of tragic enthusiasm. His browwas that of one in whom some strong o'ermastering principle hasoverwhelmed all other passions and feelings, like the swell of a highspring-tide, when the usual cliffs and breakers vanish from the eye, andtheir existence is only indicated by the chasing foam of the waves thatburst and wheel over them. He raised his head, after Morton hadcontemplated him for about a minute.

  "I perceive," said Morton, looking at his sword, "that you heard thehorsemen ride by; their passage delayed me for some minutes."

  "I scarcely heeded them," said Balfour; "my hour is not yet come. That Ishall one day fall into their hands, and be honourably associated withthe saints whom they have slaughtered, I am full well aware. And I would,young man, that the hour were come; it should be as welcome to me as everwedding to bridegroom. But if my Master has more work for me on earth, Imust not do his labour grudgingly."

  "Eat and refresh yourself," said Morton; "tomorrow your safety requiresyou should leave this place, in order to gain the hills, so soon as youcan see to distinguish the track through the morasses."

  "Young man," returned Balfour, "you are already weary of me, and would beyet more so, perchance, did you know the task upon which I have beenlately put. And I wonder not that it should be so, for there are timeswhen I am weary of myself. Think you not it is a sore trial for flesh andblood, to be called upon to execute the righteous judgments of Heavenwhile we are yet in the body, and continue to retain that blinded senseand sympathy for carnal suffering, which makes our own flesh thrill whenwe strike a gash upon the body of another? And think you, that when someprime tyrant has been removed from his place, that the instruments of hispunishment can at all times look back on their share in his downfall withfirm and unshaken nerves? Must they not sometimes even question the truthof that inspiration which they have felt and acted under? Must they notsometimes doubt the origin of that strong impulse with which theirprayers for heavenly direction under difficulties have been inwardlyanswered and confirmed, and confuse, in their disturbed apprehensions,the responses of Truth itself with some strong delusion of the enemy?"

  "These are subjects, Mr Balfour, on which I am ill qualified to conversewith you," answered Morton; "but I own I should strongly doubt the originof any inspiration which seemed to dictate a line of conduct contrary tothose feelings of natural humanity, which Heaven has assigned to us asthe general law of our conduct."

  Balfour seemed somewhat disturbed, and drew himself hastily up, butimmediately composed himself, and answered coolly, "It is natural youshould think so; you are yet in the dungeon-house of the law, a pitdarker than that into which Jeremiah was plunged, even the dungeon ofMalcaiah the son of Hamelmelech, where there was no water but mire. Yetis the seal of the covenant upon your forehead, and the son of therighteous, who resisted to blood where the banner was spread on themountains, shall not be utterly lost, as one of the children of darkness.Trow ye, that in this day of bitterness and calamity, nothing is requiredat our hands but to keep the moral law as far as our carnal frailty willpermit? Think ye our conquests must be only over our corrupt and evilaffections and passions? No; we are called upon, when we have girded upour loins, to run the race boldly, and when we have drawn the sword, weare enjoined to smite the ungodly, though he be our neighbour, and theman of power and cruelty, though he were of our own kindred, and thefriend of our own bosom."

  "These are the sentiments," said Morton, "that your enemies impute toyou, and which palliate, if they do not vindicate, the cruel measureswhich the council have directed against you. They affirm, that youpretend to derive your rule of action from what you call an inward light,rejecting the restraints of legal magistracy, of national law, and evenof common humanity, when in opposition to what you call the spirit withinyou."

  "They do us wrong," answered the Covenanter; "it is they, perjured asthey are, who have rejected all law, both divine and civil, and who nowpersecute us for adherence to the Solemn League and Covenant between Godand the kingdom of Scotland, to which all of them, save a few popishmalignants, have sworn in former days, and which they now burn in themarket-places, and tread under foot in derision. When this CharlesStewart returned to these kingdoms, did the malignants bring him back?They had tried it with strong hand, but they failed, I trow. Could JamesGrahame of Montrose, and his Highland caterans, have put him again in theplace of his father? I think their heads on the Westport told anothertale for many a long day. It was the workers of the glorious work--thereformers of the beauty of the tabernacle, that called him again to thehigh place from whi
ch his father fell. And what has been our reward? Inthe words of the prophet, 'We looked for peace, but no good came; and fora time of health, and behold trouble--The snorting of his horses washeard from Dan; the whole land trembled at the sound of the neighing ofhis strong ones; for they are come, and have devoured the land and allthat is in it.'"

  "Mr Balfour," answered Morton, "I neither undertake to subscribe to orrefute your complaints against the government. I have endeavoured torepay a debt due to the comrade of my father, by giving you shelter inyour distress, but you will excuse me from engaging myself either in yourcause, or in controversy. I will leave you to repose, and heartily wishit were in my power to render your condition more comfortable."

  "But I shall see you, I trust, in the morning, ere I depart?--I am not aman whose bowels yearn after kindred and friends of this world. When Iput my hand to the plough, I entered into a covenant with my worldlyaffections that I should not look back on the things I left behind me.Yet the son of mine ancient comrade is to me as mine own, and I cannotbehold him without the deep and firm belief, that I shall one day see himgird on his sword in the dear and precious cause for which his fatherfought and bled."

  With a promise on Morton's part that he would call the refugee when itwas time for him to pursue his journey, they parted for the night.

  Morton retired to a few hours' rest; but his imagination, disturbed bythe events of the day, did not permit him to enjoy sound repose. Therewas a blended vision of horror before him, in which his new friend seemedto be a principal actor. The fair form of Edith Bellenden also mingled inhis dream, weeping, and with dishevelled hair, and appearing to call onhim for comfort and assistance, which he had not in his power to render.He awoke from these unrefreshing slumbers with a feverish impulse, and aheart which foreboded disaster. There was already a tinge of dazzlinglustre on the verge of the distant hills, and the dawn was abroad in allthe freshness of a summer morning.

  "I have slept too long," he exclaimed to himself, "and must now hasten toforward the journey of this unfortunate fugitive."

  He dressed himself as fast as possible, opened the door of the house withas little noise as he could, and hastened to the place of refuge occupiedby the Covenanter. Morton entered on tiptoe, for the determined tone andmanner, as well as the unusual language and sentiments of this singularindividual, had struck him with a sensation approaching to awe. Balfourwas still asleep. A ray of light streamed on his uncurtained couch, andshowed to Morton the working of his harsh features, which seemed agitatedby some strong internal cause of disturbance. He had not undressed. Bothhis arms were above the bed-cover, the right hand strongly clenched, andoccasionally making that abortive attempt to strike which usually attendsdreams of violence; the left was extended, and agitated, from time totime, by a movement as if repulsing some one. The perspiration stood onhis brow, "like bubbles in a late disturbed stream," and these marks ofemotion were accompanied with broken words which escaped from him atintervals--"Thou art taken, Judas--thou art taken--Cling not to myknees--cling not to my knees--hew him down!--A priest? Ay, a priest ofBaal, to be bound and slain, even at the brook Kishon.--Fire arms willnot prevail against him--Strike--thrust with the cold iron--put him outof pain--put him out of pain, were it but for the sake of his greyhairs."

  Much alarmed at the import of these expressions, which seemed to burstfrom him even in sleep with the stern energy accompanying theperpetration of some act of violence, Morton shook his guest by theshoulder in order to awake him. The first words he uttered were, "Bear mewhere ye will, I will avouch the deed!"

  His glance around having then fully awakened him, he at once assumed allthe stern and gloomy composure of his ordinary manner, and throwinghimself on his knees, before speaking to Morton, poured forth anejaculatory prayer for the suffering Church of Scotland, entreating thatthe blood of her murdered saints and martyrs might be precious in thesight of Heaven, and that the shield of the Almighty might be spread overthe scattered remnant, who, for His name's sake, were abiders in thewilderness. Vengeance--speedy and ample vengeance on the oppressors, wasthe concluding petition of his devotions, which he expressed aloud instrong and emphatic language, rendered more impressive by the Orientalismof Scripture.

  When he had finished his prayer he arose, and, taking Morton by the arm,they descended together to the stable, where the Wanderer (to give Burleya title which was often conferred on his sect) began to make his horseready to pursue his journey. When the animal was saddled and bridled,Burley requested Morton to walk with him a gun-shot into the wood, anddirect him to the right road for gaining the moors. Morton readilycomplied, and they walked for some time in silence under the shade ofsome fine old trees, pursuing a sort of natural path, which, afterpassing through woodland for about half a mile, led into the bare andwild country which extends to the foot of the hills.

  There was little conversation between them, until at length Burleysuddenly asked Morton, "Whether the words he had spoken over-night hadborne fruit in his mind?"

  Morton answered, "That he remained of the same opinion which he hadformerly held, and was determined, at least as far and as long aspossible, to unite the duties of a good Christian with those of apeaceful subject."

  "In other words," replied Burley, "you are desirous to serve both God andMammon--to be one day professing the truth with your lips, and the nextday in arms, at the command of carnal and tyrannic authority, to shed theblood of those who for the truth have forsaken all things? Think ye," hecontinued, "to touch pitch and remain undefiled? to mix in the ranks ofmalignants, papists, papa-prelatists, latitudinarians, and scoffers; topartake of their sports, which are like the meat offered unto idols; tohold intercourse, perchance, with their daughters, as the sons of Godwith the daughters of men in the world before the flood--Think you, Isay, to do all these things, and yet remain free from pollution? I sayunto you, that all communication with the enemies of the Church is theaccursed thing which God hateth! Touch not--taste not--handle not! Andgrieve not, young man, as if you alone were called upon to subdue yourcarnal affections, and renounce the pleasures which are a snare to yourfeet--I say to you, that the Son of David hath denounced no better lot onthe whole generation of mankind."

  He then mounted his horse, and, turning to Morton, repeated the text ofScripture, "An heavy yoke was ordained for the sons of Adam from the daythey go out of their mother's womb, till the day that they return to themother of all things; from him who is clothed in blue silk and weareth acrown, even to him who weareth simple linen,--wrath, envy, trouble, andunquietness, rigour, strife, and fear of death in the time of rest."

  Having uttered these words he set his horse in motion, and soondisappeared among the boughs of the forest.

  "Farewell, stern enthusiast," said Morton, looking after him; "in somemoods of my mind, how dangerous would be the society of such a companion!If I am unmoved by his zeal for abstract doctrines of faith, or ratherfor a peculiar mode of worship, (such was the purport of hisreflections,) can I be a man, and a Scotchman, and look with indifferenceon that persecution which has made wise men mad? Was not the cause offreedom, civil and religious, that for which my father fought; and shallI do well to remain inactive, or to take the part of an oppressivegovernment, if there should appear any rational prospect of redressingthe insufferable wrongs to which my miserable countrymen are subjected?--And yet, who shall warrant me that these people, rendered wild bypersecution, would not, in the hour of victory, be as cruel and asintolerant as those by whom they are now hunted down? What degree ofmoderation, or of mercy, can be expected from this Burley, sodistinguished as one of their principal champions, and who seems even nowto be reeking from some recent deed of violence, and to feel stings ofremorse, which even his enthusiasm cannot altogether stifle? I am wearyof seeing nothing but violence and fury around me--now assuming the maskof lawful authority, now taking that of religious zeal. I am sick of mycountry--of myself--of my dependent situation--of my repressedfeelings--of these woods--of that river--of that house--of allb
ut--Edith, and she can never be mine! Why should I haunt her walks?--Whyencourage my own delusion, and perhaps hers?--She can never be mine. Hergrandmother's pride--the opposite principles of our families--mywretched state of dependence--a poor miserable slave, for I have noteven the wages of a servant--all circumstances give the lie to the vainhope that we can ever be united. Why then protract a delusion sopainful?

  "But I am no slave," he said aloud, and drawing himself up to his fullstature--"no slave, in one respect, surely. I can change my abode--myfather's sword is mine, and Europe lies open before me, as before him andhundreds besides of my countrymen, who have filled it with the fame oftheir exploits. Perhaps some lucky chance may raise me to a rank with ourRuthvens, our Lesleys, our Monroes, the chosen leaders of the famousProtestant champion, Gustavus Adolphus, or, if not, a soldier's life or asoldier's grave."

  When he had formed this determination, he found himself near the door ofhis uncle's house, and resolved to lose no time in making him acquaintedwith it.

  "Another glance of Edith's eye, another walk by Edith's side, and myresolution would melt away. I will take an irrevocable step, therefore,and then see her for the last time."

  In this mood he entered the wainscotted parlour, in which his uncle wasalready placed at his morning's refreshment, a huge plate of oatmealporridge, with a corresponding allowance of butter-milk. The favouritehousekeeper was in attendance, half standing, half resting on the back ofa chair, in a posture betwixt freedom and respect. The old gentleman hadbeen remarkably tall in his earlier days, an advantage which he now lostby stooping to such a degree, that at a meeting, where there was somedispute concerning the sort of arch which should be thrown over aconsiderable brook, a facetious neighbour proposed to offer Milnwood ahandsome sum for his curved backbone, alleging that he would sell anything that belonged to him. Splay feet of unusual size, long thin hands,garnished with nails which seldom felt the steel, a wrinkled and puckeredvisage, the length of which corresponded with that of his person,together with a pair of little sharp bargain-making grey eyes, thatseemed eternally looking out for their advantage, completed the highlyunpromising exterior of Mr Morton of Milnwood. As it would have been veryinjudicious to have lodged a liberal or benevolent disposition in such anunworthy cabinet, nature had suited his person with a mind exactly inconformity with it, that is to say, mean, selfish, and covetous.

  When this amiable personage was aware of the presence of his nephew, hehastened, before addressing him, to swallow the spoonful of porridgewhich he was in the act of conveying to his mouth, and, as it chanced tobe scalding hot, the pain occasioned by its descent down his throat andinto his stomach, inflamed the ill-humour with which he was alreadyprepared to meet his kinsman.

  "The deil take them that made them!" was his first ejaculation,apostrophizing his mess of porridge.

  "They're gude parritch eneugh," said Mrs Wilson, "if ye wad but take timeto sup them. I made them mysell; but if folk winna hae patience, theyshould get their thrapples causewayed."

  "Haud your peace, Alison! I was speaking to my nevoy.--How is this, sir?And what sort o' scampering gates are these o' going on? Ye were not athame last night till near midnight."

  "Thereabouts, sir, I believe," answered Morton, in an indifferent tone.

  "Thereabouts, sir?--What sort of an answer is that, sir? Why came ye nahame when other folk left the grund?"

  "I suppose you know the reason very well, sir," said Morton; "I had thefortune to be the best marksman of the day, and remained, as is usual, togive some little entertainment to the other young men."

  "The deevil ye did, sir! And ye come to tell me that to my face? Youpretend to gie entertainments, that canna come by a dinner except bysorning on a carefu' man like me? But if ye put me to charges, I'se workit out o'ye. I seena why ye shouldna haud the pleugh, now that thepleughman has left us; it wad set ye better than wearing thae green duds,and wasting your siller on powther and lead; it wad put ye in an honestcalling, and wad keep ye in bread without being behadden to ony ane."

  "I am very ambitious of learning such a calling, sir, but I don'tunderstand driving the plough."

  "And what for no? It's easier than your gunning and archery that ye likesae weel. Auld Davie is ca'ing it e'en now, and ye may be goadsman forthe first twa or three days, and tak tent ye dinna o'erdrive the owsen,and then ye will be fit to gang betweeu the stilts. Ye'll ne'er learnyounger, I'll be your caution. Haggie-holm is heavy land, and Davie isower auld to keep the coulter down now."

  "I beg pardon for interrupting you, sir, but I have formed a scheme formyself, which will have the same effect of relieving you of the burdenand charge attending my company."

  "Ay? Indeed? a scheme o' yours? that must be a denty ane!" said theuncle, with a very peculiar sneer; "let's hear about it, lad."

  "It is said in two words, sir. I intend to leave this country, and serveabroad, as my father did before these unhappy troubles broke out at home.His name will not be so entirely forgotten in the countries where heserved, but that it will procure his son at least the opportunity oftrying his fortune as a soldier."

  "Gude be gracious to us!" exclaimed the housekeeper; "our young Mr Harrygang abroad? na, na! eh, na! that maun never be."

  Milnwood, entertaining no thought or purpose of parting with his nephew,who was, moreover, very useful to him in many respects, was thunderstruckat this abrupt declaration of independence from a person whose deferenceto him had hitherto been unlimited. He recovered himself, however,immediately.

  "And wha do you think is to give you the means, young man, for such awild-goose chase? Not I, I am sure. I can hardly support you at hame. Andye wad be marrying, I'se warrant, as your father did afore ye, too, andsending your uncle hame a pack o' weans to be fighting and skirlingthrough the house in my auld days, and to take wing and flee aff likeyoursell, whenever they were asked to serve a turn about the town?"

  "I have no thoughts of ever marrying," answered Henry.

  "Hear till him now!" said the housekeeper. "It's a shame to hear a douceyoung lad speak in that way, since a' the warld kens that they mauneither marry or do waur."

  "Haud your peace, Alison," said her master; "and you, Harry," (he addedmore mildly,) "put this nonsense out o' your head--this comes o' lettingye gang a-sodgering for a day--mind ye hae nae siller, lad, for ony sicnonsense plans."

  "I beg your pardon, sir, my wants shall be very few; and would you pleaseto give me the gold chain, which the Margrave gave to my father after thebattle of Lutzen"--"Mercy on us! the gowd chain?" exclaimed his uncle.

  "The chain of gowd!" re-echoed the housekeeper, both aghast withastonishment at the audacity of the proposal.

  --"I will keep a few links," continued the young man, "to remind me ofhim by whom it was won, and the place where he won it," continued Morton;"the rest shall furnish me the means of following the same career inwhich my father obtained that mark of distinction."

  "Mercifu' powers!" exclaimed the governante, "my master wears it everySunday!"

  "Sunday and Saturday," added old Milnwood, "whenever I put on my blackvelvet coat; and Wylie Mactrickit is partly of opinion it's a kind ofheir-loom, that rather belangs to the head of the house than to theimmediate descendant. It has three thousand links; I have counted them athousand times. It's worth three hundred pounds sterling."

  "That is more than I want, sir; if you choose to give me the third partof the money, and five links of the chain, it will amply serve mypurpose, and the rest will be some slight atonement for the expense andtrouble I have put you to."

  "The laddie's in a creel!" exclaimed his uncle. "O, sirs, what willbecome o' the rigs o' Milnwood when I am dead and gane! He would flingthe crown of Scotland awa, if he had it."

  "Hout, sir," said the old housekeeper, "I maun e'en say it's partly yourain faut. Ye maunna curb his head ower sair in neither; and, to be sure,since he has gane doun to the Howff, ye maun just e'en pay the lawing."

  "If it be not abune twa dollars, Alison," said the old gentle
man, veryreluctantly.

  "I'll settle it myself wi'Niel Blane, the first time I gang down to theclachan," said Alison, "cheaper than your honour or Mr Harry can do;" andthen whispered to Henry, "Dinna vex him onymair; I'll pay the lave out o'the butter siller, and nae mair words about it." Then proceeding aloud,"And ye maunna speak o' the young gentleman hauding the pleugh; there'spuir distressed whigs enow about the country will be glad to do that fora bite and a soup--it sets them far better than the like o' him."

  "And then we'll hae the dragoons on us," said Milnwood, "for comfortingand entertaining intercommuned rebels; a bonny strait ye wad put us in!--But take your breakfast, Harry, and then lay by your new green coat, andput on your Raploch grey; it's a mair mensfu' and thrifty dress, and amair seemly sight, than thae dangling slops and ribbands."

  Morton left the room, perceiving plainly that he had at present no chanceof gaining his purpose, and, perhaps, not altogether displeased at theobstacles which seemed to present themselves to his leaving theneighbourhood of Tillietudlem. The housekeeper followed him into the nextroom, patting him on the back, and bidding him "be a gude bairn, and pitby his braw things."

  "And I'll loop doun your hat, and lay by the band and ribband," said theofficious dame; "and ye maun never, at no hand, speak o' leaving theland, or of selling the gowd chain, for your uncle has an unco pleasurein looking on you, and in counting the links of the chainzie; and ye kenauld folk canna last for ever; sae the chain, and the lands, and a' willbe your ain ae day; and ye may marry ony leddy in the country-side yelike, and keep a braw house at Milnwood, for there's enow o' means; andis not that worth waiting for, my dow?"

  There was something in the latter part of the prognostic which sounded soagreeably in the ears of Morton, that he shook the old dame cordially bythe hand, and assured her he was much obliged by her good advice, andwould weigh it carefully before he proceeded to act upon his formerresolution.