Guy Mannering, Or, the Astrologer — Complete

  CHAPTER XLVI

  Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.

  Macbeth.

  Upon the evening of the day when Bertram's examination had taken place,Colonel Mannering arrived at Woodbourne from Edinburgh. He found hisfamily in their usual state, which probably, so far as Julia wasconcerned, would not have been the case had she learned the news ofBertram's arrest. But as, during the Colonel's absence, the two youngladies lived much retired, this circumstance fortunately had notreached Woodbourne. A letter had already made Miss Bertram acquaintedwith the downfall of the expectations which had been formed upon thebequest of her kinswoman. Whatever hopes that news might havedispelled, the disappointment did not prevent her from joining herfriend in affording a cheerful reception to the Colonel, to whom shethus endeavoured to express the deep sense she entertained of hispaternal kindness. She touched on her regret that at such a season ofthe year he should have made, upon her account, a journey so fruitless.

  'That it was fruitless to you, my dear,' said the Colonel, 'I do mostdeeply lament; but for my own share, I have made some valuableacquaintances, and have spent the time I have been absent in Edinburghwith peculiar satisfaction; so that on that score there is nothing tobe regretted. Even our friend the Dominie is returned thrice the man hewas, from having sharpened his wits in controversy with the geniuses ofthe northern metropolis.'

  'Of a surety,' said the Dominie, with great complacency, 'I didwrestle, and was not overcome, though my adversary was cunning in hisart.'

  'I presume,' said Miss Mannering, 'the contest was somewhat fatiguing,Mr. Sampson?'

  'Very much, young lady; howbeit I girded up my loins and strove againsthim.'

  'I can bear witness,' said the Colonel; 'I never saw an affair bettercontested. The enemy was like the Mahratta cavalry: he assailed on allsides, and presented no fair mark for artillery; but Mr. Sampson stoodto his guns notwithstanding, and fired away, now upon the enemy and nowupon the dust which he had raised. But we must not fight our battlesover again to-night; to-morrow we shall have the whole at breakfast.'

  The next morning at breakfast, however, the Dominie did not make hisappearance. He had walked out, a servant said, early in the morning. Itwas so common for him to forget his meals that his absence neverderanged the family. The housekeeper, a decent old-fashionedPresbyterian matron, having, as such, the highest respect for Sampson'stheological acquisitions, had it in charge on these occasions to takecare that he was no sufferer by his absence of mind, and thereforeusually waylaid him on his return, to remind him of his sublunarywants, and to minister to their relief. It seldom, however, happenedthat he was absent from two meals together, as was the case in thepresent instance. We must explain the cause of this unusual occurrence.

  The conversation which Mr. Pleydell had held with Mr. Mannering on thesubject of the loss of Harry Bertram had awakened all the painfulsensations which that event had inflicted upon Sampson. Theaffectionate heart of the poor Dominie had always reproached him thathis negligence in leaving the child in the care of Frank Kennedy hadbeen the proximate cause of the murder of the one, the loss of theother, the death of Mrs. Bertram, and the ruin of the family of hispatron. It was a subject which he never conversed upon, if indeed hismode of speech could be called conversation at any time; but it wasoften present to his imagination. The sort of hope so strongly affirmedand asserted in Mrs. Bertram's last settlement had excited acorresponding feeling in the Dominie's bosom, which was exasperatedinto a sort of sickening anxiety by the discredit with which Pleydellhad treated it. 'Assuredly,' thought Sampson to himself, 'he is a manof erudition, and well skilled in the weighty matters of the law; buthe is also a man of humorous levity and inconsistency of speech, andwherefore should he pronounce ex cathedra, as it were, on the hopeexpressed by worthy Madam Margaret Bertram of Singleside?'

  All this, I say, the Dominie THOUGHT to himself; for had he utteredhalf the sentence, his jaws would have ached for a month under theunusual fatigue of such a continued exertion. The result of thesecogitations was a resolution to go and visit the scene of the tragedyat Warroch Point, where he had not been for many years; not, indeed,since the fatal accident had happened. The walk was a long one, for thePoint of Warroch lay on the farther side of the Ellangowan property,which was interposed between it and Woodbourne. Besides, the Dominiewent astray more than once, and met with brooks swoln into torrents bythe melting of the snow, where he, honest man, had only the summerrecollection of little trickling rills.

  At length, however, he reached the woods which he had made the objectof his excursion, and traversed them with care, muddling his disturbedbrains with vague efforts to recall every circumstance of thecatastrophe. It will readily be supposed that the influence of localsituation and association was inadequate to produce conclusionsdifferent from those which he had formed under the immediate pressureof the occurrences themselves. 'With many a weary sigh, therefore, andmany a groan,' the poor Dominie returned from his hopeless pilgrimage,and weariedly plodded his way towards Woodbourne, debating at times inhis altered mind a question which was forced upon him by the cravingsof an appetite rather of the keenest, namely, whether he hadbreakfasted that morning or no? It was in this twilight humour, nowthinking of the loss of the child, then involuntarily compelled tomeditate upon the somewhat incongruous subject of hung beef, rolls, andbutter, that his route, which was different from that which he hadtaken in the morning, conducted him past the small ruined tower, orrather vestige of a tower, called by the country people the Kaim ofDerncleugh.

  The reader may recollect the description of this ruin in thetwenty-seventh chapter, as the vault in which young Bertram, under theauspices of Meg Merrilies, witnessed the death of Hatteraick'slieutenant. The tradition of the country added ghostly terrors to thenatural awe inspired by the situation of this place, which terrors thegipsies who so long inhabited the vicinity had probably invented, or atleast propagated, for their own advantage. It was said that, during thetimes of the Galwegian independence, one Hanlon Mac-Dingawaie, brotherto the reigning chief, Knarth Mac-Dingawaie, murdered his brother andsovereign, in order to usurp the principality from his infant nephew,and that, being pursued for vengeance by the faithful allies andretainers of the house, who espoused the cause of the lawful heir, hewas compelled to retreat, with a few followers whom he had involved inhis crime, to this impregnable tower called the Kaim of Derucleugh,where he defended himself until nearly reduced by famine, when, settingfire to the place, he and the small remaining garrison desperatelyperished by their own swords, rather than fall into the hands of theirexasperated enemies. This tragedy, which, considering the wild timeswherein it was placed, might have some foundation in truth, was lardedwith many legends of superstition and diablerie, so that most of thepeasants of the neighbourhood, if benighted, would rather have chosento make a considerable circuit than pass these haunted walls. Thelights, often seen around the tower, when used as the rendezvous of thelawless characters by whom it was occasionally frequented, wereaccounted for, under authority of these tales of witchery, in a mannerat once convenient for the private parties concerned and satisfactoryto the public.

  Now it must be confessed that our friend Sampson, although a profoundscholar and mathematician, had not travelled so far in philosophy as todoubt the reality of witchcraft or apparitions. Born, indeed, at a timewhen a doubt in the existence of witches was interpreted as equivalentto a justification of their infernal practices, a belief of suchlegends had been impressed upon the Dominie as an article indivisiblefrom his religious faith, and perhaps it would have been equallydifficult to have induced him to doubt the one as the other. With thesefeelings, and in a thick misty day, which was already drawing to itsclose, Dominie Sampson did not pass the Kaim of Derncleugh without somefeelings of tacit horror.

  What, then, was his astonishment when, on passing the door--that doorwhich was suppos
ed to have been placed there by one of the latterLairds of Ellangowan to prevent presumptuous strangers from incurringthe dangers of the haunted vault--that door, supposed to be alwayslocked, and the key of which was popularly said to be deposited withthe presbytery--that door, that very door, opened suddenly, and thefigure of Meg Merrilies, well known, though not seen for many arevolving year, was placed at once before the eyes of the startledDominie! She stood immediately before him in the footpath, confrontinghim so absolutely that he could not avoid her except by fairly turningback, which his manhood prevented him from thinking of.

  'I kenn'd ye wad be here,' she said, with her harsh and hollow voice;'I ken wha ye seek; but ye maun do my bidding.'

  'Get thee behind me!' said the alarmed Dominie. 'Avoid ye! Conjuro te,scelestissima, nequissima, spurcissima, iniquissima atque miserrima,conjuro te!!!'

  Meg stood her ground against this tremendous volley of superlatives,which Sampson hawked up from the pit of his stomach and hurled at herin thunder. 'Is the carl daft,' she said, 'wi' his glamour?'

  'Conjuro,' continued the Dominie, 'abjuro, contestor atque viriliterimpero tibi!'

  'What, in the name of Sathan, are ye feared for, wi' your Frenchgibberish, that would make a dog sick? Listen, ye stickit stibbler, towhat I tell ye, or ye sail rue it while there's a limb o' ye hings toanither! Tell Colonel Mannering that I ken he's seeking me. He kens,and I ken, that the blood will be wiped out, and the lost will be found,

  And Bertram's right and Bertram's might Shall meet on Ellangowan height.

  Hae, there's a letter to him; I was gaun to send it in another way. Icanna write mysell; but I hae them that will baith write and read, andride and rin for me. Tell him the time's coming now, and the weird'sdreed, and the wheel's turning. Bid him look at the stars as he haslooked at them before. Will ye mind a' this?'

  'Assuredly,' said the Dominie, 'I am dubious; for, woman, I amperturbed at thy words, and my flesh quakes to hear thee.'

  'They'll do you nae ill though, and maybe muckle gude.'

  'Avoid ye! I desire no good that comes by unlawful means.'

  'Fule body that thou art,' said Meg, stepping up to him, with a frownof indignation that made her dark eyes flash like lamps from under herbent brows--'Fule body! if I meant ye wrang, couldna I clod ye owerthat craig, and wad man ken how ye cam by your end mair than FrankKennedy? Hear ye that, ye worricow?'

  'In the name of all that is good,' said the Dominie, recoiling, andpointing his long pewter-headed walking cane like a javelin at thesupposed sorceress--'in the name of all that is good, bide off hands! Iwill not be handled; woman, stand off, upon thine own proper peril!Desist, I say; I am strong; lo, I will resist!' Here his speech was cutshort; for Meg, armed with supernatural strength (as the Dominieasserted), broke in upon his guard, put by a thrust which he made ather with his cane, and lifted him into the vault, 'as easily,' said he,'as I could sway a Kitchen's Atlas.'

  'Sit down there,' she said, pushing the half-throttled preacher withsome violence against a broken chair--'sit down there and gather yourwind and your senses, ye black barrow-tram o' the kirk that ye are. Areye fou or fasting?'

  'Fasting, from all but sin,' answered the Dominie, who, recovering hisvoice, and finding his exorcisms only served to exasperate theintractable sorceress, thought it best to affect complaisance andsubmission, inwardly conning over, however, the wholesome conjurationswhich he durst no longer utter aloud. But as the Dominie's brain was byno means equal to carry on two trains of ideas at the same time, a wordor two of his mental exercise sometimes escaped and mingled with hisuttered speech in a manner ludicrous enough, especially as the poor manshrunk himself together after every escape of the kind, from terror ofthe effect it might produce upon the irritable feelings of the witch.

  Meg in the meanwhile went to a great black cauldron that was boiling ona fire on the floor, and, lifting the lid, an odour was diffusedthrough the vault which, if the vapours of a witch's cauldron could inaught be trusted, promised better things than the hell-broth which suchvessels are usually supposed to contain. It was, in fact, the savour ofa goodly stew, composed of fowls, hares, partridges, and moor-gameboiled in a large mess with potatoes, onions, and leeks, and from thesize of the cauldron appeared to be prepared for half a dozen of peopleat least. 'So ye hae eat naething a' day?' said Meg, heaving a largeportion of this mess into a brown dish and strewing it savourily withsalt and pepper. [Footnote: See Note 4.]

  'Nothing,' answered the Dominie, 'scelestissima!--that is, gudewife.'

  'Hae then,' said she, placing the dish before him, 'there's what willwarm your heart.'

  'I do not hunger, malefica--that is to say, Mrs. Merrilies!' for hesaid unto himself,' the savour is sweet, but it hath been cooked by aCanidia or an Ericthoe.'

  'If ye dinna eat instantly and put some saul in ye, by the bread andthe salt, I'll put it down your throat wi' the cutty spoon, scauldingas it is, and whether ye will or no. Gape, sinner, and swallow!'

  Sampson, afraid of eye of newt, and toe of frog, tigers' chaudrons, andso forth, had determined not to venture; but the smell of the stew wasfast melting his obstinacy, which flowed from his chops as it were instreams of water, and the witch's threats decided him to feed. Hungerand fear are excellent casuists.

  'Saul,' said Hunger, 'feasted with the witch of Endor.' 'And,' quothFear, 'the salt which she sprinkled upon the food showeth plainly it isnot a necromantic banquet, in which that seasoning never occurs.' 'And,besides,' says Hunger, after the first spoonful, 'it is savoury andrefreshing viands.'

  'So ye like the meat?' said the hostess.

  'Yea,' answered the Dominie, 'and I give thee thanks,sceleratissima!--which means, Mrs. Margaret.'

  'Aweel, eat your fill; but an ye kenn'd how it was gotten ye maybewadna like it sae weel.' Sampson's spoon dropped in the act ofconveying its load to his mouth. 'There's been mony a moonlight watchto bring a' that trade thegither,' continued Meg; 'the folk that are toeat that dinner thought little o' your game laws.'

  'Is that all?' thought Sampson, resuming his spoon and shovelling awaymanfully; 'I will not lack my food upon that argument.'

  'Now ye maun tak a dram?'

  'I will,' quoth Sampson, 'conjuro te--that is, I thank you heartily,'for he thought to himself, in for a penny in for a pound; and he fairlydrank the witch's health in a cupful of brandy. When he had put thiscopestone upon Meg's good cheer, he felt, as he said, 'mightilyelevated, and afraid of no evil which could befall unto him.'

  'Will ye remember my errand now?' said Meg Merrilies; 'I ken by thecast o' your ee that ye're anither man than when you cam in.'

  'I will, Mrs. Margaret,' repeated Sampson, stoutly; 'I will deliverunto him the sealed yepistle, and will add what you please to send byword of mouth.'

  'Then I'll make it short,' says Meg. 'Tell him to look at the starswithout fail this night, and to do what I desire him in that letter, ashe would wish

  That Bertram's right and Bertram's might Should meet on Ellangowan height.

  I have seen him twice when he saw na me; I ken when he was in thiscountry first, and I ken what's brought him back again. Up an' to thegate! ye're ower lang here; follow me.'

  Sampson followed the sibyl accordingly, who guided him about a quarterof a mile through the woods, by a shorter cut than he could have foundfor himself; then they entered upon the common, Meg still marchingbefore him at a great pace, until she gained the top of a small hillockwhich overhung the road.

  'Here,' she said, 'stand still here. Look how the setting sun breaksthrough yon cloud that's been darkening the lift a' day. See where thefirst stream o' light fa's: it's upon Donagild's round tower, theauldest tower in the Castle o' Ellangowan; that's no for naething! Seeas it's glooming to seaward abune yon sloop in the bay; that's no fornaething neither. Here I stood on this very spot,' said she, drawingherself up so as not to lose one hair-breadth of her uncommon height,and stretching out her long sinewy arm and clenched hand--'here I stoodwhen I tauld the last L
aird o' Ellangowan what was coming on his house;and did that fa' to the ground? na, it hit even ower sair! And here,where I brake the wand of peace ower him, here I stand again, to bidGod bless and prosper the just heir of Ellangowan that will sune bebrought to his ain; and the best laird he shall be that Ellangowan hasseen for three hundred years. I'll no live to see it, maybe; but therewill be mony a blythe ee see it though mine be closed. And now, AbelSampson, as ever ye lo'ed the house of Ellangowan, away wi' my messageto the English Colonel, as if life and death were upon your haste!'

  So saying, she turned suddenly from the amazed Dominie and regainedwith swift and long strides the shelter of the wood from which she hadissued at the point where it most encroached upon the common. Sampsongazed after her for a moment in utter astonishment, and then obeyed herdirections, hurrying to Woodbourne at a pace very unusual for him,exclaiming three times, 'Prodigious! prodigious! pro-di-gi-ous!'