by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXXIV
THINGS MEND A LITTLE
About noon Mr. Morton returned and brought an invitation from MajorMelville that Mr. Waverley would honour him with his company to dinner,notwithstanding the unpleasant affair which detained him atCairnvreckan, from which he should heartily rejoice to see Mr. Waverleycompletely extricated. The truth was that Mr. Morton's favourablereport and opinion had somewhat staggered the preconceptions of the oldsoldier concerning Edward's supposed accession to the mutiny in theregiment; and in the unfortunate state of the country the meresuspicion of disaffection or an inclination to join the insurgentJacobites might infer criminality indeed, but certainly not dishonour.Besides, a person whom the Major trusted had reported to him (though,as it proved, inaccurately) a contradiction of the agitating news ofthe preceding evening. According to this second edition of theintelligence, the Highlanders had withdrawn from the Lowland frontierwith the purpose of following the army in their march to Inverness. TheMajor was at a loss, indeed, to reconcile his information with thewell-known abilities of some of the gentlemen in the Highland army, yetit was the course which was likely to be most agreeable to others. Heremembered the same policy had detained them in the north in the year1715, and he anticipated a similar termination to the insurrection asupon that occasion.
This news put him in such good-humour that he readily acquiesced in Mr.Morton's proposal to pay some hospitable attention to his unfortunateguest, and voluntarily added, he hoped the whole affair would prove ayouthful escapade, which might be easily atoned by a short confinement.The kind mediator had some trouble to prevail on his young friend toaccept the invitation. He dared not urge to him the real motive, whichwas a good-natured wish to secure a favourable report of Waverley'scase from Major Melville to Governor Blakeney. He remarked, from theflashes of our hero's spirit, that touching upon this topic would besure to defeat his purpose. He therefore pleaded that the invitationargued the Major's disbelief of any part of the accusation which wasinconsistent with Waverley's conduct as a soldier and a man of honour,and that to decline his courtesy might be interpreted into aconsciousness that it was unmerited. In short, he so far satisfiedEdward that the manly and proper course was to meet the Major on easyterms that, suppressing his strong dislike again to encounter his coldand punctilious civility, Waverley agreed to be guided by his newfriend.
The meeting at first was stiff and formal enough. But Edward, havingaccepted the invitation, and his mind being really soothed and relievedby the kindness of Morton, held himself bound to behave with ease,though he could not affect cordiality. The Major was somewhat of a bonvivant, and his wine was excellent. He told his old campaign stories,and displayed much knowledge of men and manners. Mr. Morton had aninternal fund of placid and quiet gaiety, which seldom failed toenliven any small party in which he found himself pleasantly seated.Waverley, whose life was a dream, gave ready way to the predominatingimpulse and became the most lively of the party. He had at all timesremarkable natural powers of conversation, though easily silenced bydiscouragement. On the present occasion he piqued himself upon leavingon the minds of his companions a favourable impression of one who,under such disastrous circumstances, could sustain his misfortunes withease and gaiety. His spirits, though not unyielding, were abundantlyelastic, and soon seconded his efforts. The trio were engaged in verylively discourse, apparently delighted with each other, and the kindhost was pressing a third bottle of Burgundy, when the sound of a drumwas heard at some distance. The Major, who, in the glee of an oldsoldier, had forgot the duties of a magistrate, cursed, with a mutteredmilitary oath, the circumstances which recalled him to his officialfunctions. He rose and went towards the window, which commanded a verynear view of the highroad, and he was followed by his guests.
The drum advanced, beating no measured martial tune, but a kind ofrub-a-dub-dub, like that with which the fire-drum startles theslumbering artizans of a Scotch burgh. It is the object of this historyto do justice to all men; I must therefore record, in justice to thedrummer, that he protested he could beat any known march or point ofwar known in the British army, and had accordingly commenced with'Dumbarton's Drums,' when he was silenced by Gifted Gilfillan, thecommander of the party, who refused to permit his followers to move tothis profane, and even, as he said, persecutive tune, and commanded thedrummer to beat the 119th Psalm. As this was beyond the capacity of thedrubber of sheepskin, he was fain to have recourse to the inoffensiverow-de-dow as a harmless substitute for the sacred music which hisinstrument or skill were unable to achieve. This may be held a triflinganecdote, but the drummer in question was no less than town-drummer ofAnderton. I remember his successor in office, a member of thatenlightened body, the British Convention. Be his memory, therefore,treated with due respect.
