by Walter Scott
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.
His master's gone, and no one now Dwells in the halls of Ivor; Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead, He is the sole survivor. Wordsworth.
There are few more melancholy sensations than those with which we regardscenes of past pleasure when altered and deserted. In my ride toOsbaldistone Hall, I passed the same objects which I had seen in companywith Miss Vernon on the day of our memorable ride from Inglewood Place.Her spirit seemed to keep me company on the way; and when I approachedthe spot where I had first seen her, I almost listened for the cry of thehounds and the notes of the horn, and strained my eye on the vacantspace, as if to descry the fair huntress again descend like an apparitionfrom the hill. But all was silent, and all was solitary. When I reachedthe Hall, the closed doors and windows, the grass-grown pavement, thecourts, which were now so silent, presented a strong contrast to the gayand bustling scene I had so often seen them exhibit, when the merryhunters were going forth to their morning sport, or returning to thedaily festival. The joyous bark of the fox-hounds as they were uncoupled,the cries of the huntsmen, the clang of the horses' hoofs, the loud laughof the old knight at the head of his strong and numerous descendants,were all silenced now and for ever.
While I gazed round the scene of solitude and emptiness, I wasinexpressibly affected, even by recollecting those whom, when alive, Ihad no reason to regard with affection. But the thought that so manyyouths of goodly presence, warm with life, health, and confidence, werewithin so short a time cold in the grave, by various, yet all violent andunexpected modes of death, afforded a picture of mortality at which themind trembled. It was little consolation to me, that I returned aproprietor to the halls which I had left almost like a fugitive. My mindwas not habituated to regard the scenes around as my property, and I feltmyself an usurper, at least an intruding stranger, and could hardlydivest myself of the idea, that some of the bulky forms of my deceasedkinsmen were, like the gigantic spectres of a romance, to appear in thegateway, and dispute my entrance.
While I was engaged in these sad thoughts, my follower Andrew, whosefeelings were of a very different nature, exerted himself in thunderingalternately on every door in the building, calling, at the same time, foradmittance, in a tone so loud as to intimate, that _he,_ at least, wasfully sensible of his newly acquired importance, as squire of the body tothe new lord of the manor. At length, timidly and reluctantly, AnthonySyddall, my uncle's aged butler and major-domo, presented himself at alower window, well fenced with iron bars, and inquired our business.
"We are come to tak your charge aff your hand, my auld friend," saidAndrew Fairservice; "ye may gie up your keys as sune as ye like--ilka doghas his day. I'll tak the plate and napery aff your hand. Ye hae had yourain time o't, Mr. Syddall; but ilka bean has its black, and ilka path hasits puddle; and it will just set you henceforth to sit at the board-end,as weel as it did Andrew lang syne."
Checking with some difficulty the forwardness of my follower, I explainedto Syddall the nature of my right, and the title I had to demandadmittance into the Hall, as into my own property. The old man seemedmuch agitated and distressed, and testified manifest reluctance to giveme entrance, although it was couched in a humble and submissive tone. Iallowed for the agitation of natural feelings, which really did the oldman honour; but continued peremptory in my demand of admittance,explaining to him that his refusal would oblige me to apply for Mr.Inglewood's warrant, and a constable.
"We are come from Mr. Justice Inglewood's this morning," said Andrew, toenforce the menace;--"and I saw Archie Rutledge, the constable, as I cameup by;--the country's no to be lawless as it has been, Mr. Syddall,letting rebels and papists gang on as they best listed."
The threat of the law sounded dreadful in the old man's ears, consciousas he was of the suspicion under which he himself lay, from his religionand his devotion to Sir Hildebrand and his sons. He undid, with fear andtrembling, one of the postern entrances, which was secured with many abolt and bar, and humbly hoped that I would excuse him for fidelity inthe discharge of his duty.--I reassured him, and told him I had thebetter opinion of him for his caution.
"Sae have not I," said Andrew; "Syddall is an auld sneck-drawer; he wadnabe looking as white as a sheet, and his knees knocking thegither, unlessit were for something mair than he's like to tell us."
"Lord forgive you, Mr. Fairservice," replied the butler, "to say suchthings of an old friend and fellow-servant!--Where"--following me humblyalong the passage--"where would it be your honour's pleasure to have afire lighted? I fear me you will find the house very dull and dreary--Butperhaps you mean to ride back to Inglewood Place to dinner?"
"Light a fire in the library," I replied.
"In the library!" answered the old man;--"nobody has sat there this manya day, and the room smokes, for the daws have built in the chimney thisspring, and there were no young men about the Hall to pull them down."
"Our ain reekes better than other folk's fire," said Andrew. "His honourlikes the library;--he's nane o' your Papishers, that delight in blindedignorance, Mr. Syddall."
Very reluctantly as it appeared to me, the butler led the way to thelibrary, and, contrary to what he had given me to expect, the interior ofthe apartment looked as if it had been lately arranged, and made morecomfortable than usual. There was a fire in the grate, which burnedclearly, notwithstanding what Syddall had reported of the vent. Taking upthe tongs, as if to arrange the wood, but rather perhaps to conceal hisown confusion, the butler observed, "it was burning clear now, but hadsmoked woundily in the morning."
Wishing to be alone, till I recovered myself from the first painfulsensations which everything around me recalled, I desired old Syddall tocall the land-steward, who lived at about a quarter of a mile from theHall. He departed with obvious reluctance. I next ordered Andrew toprocure the attendance of a couple of stout fellows upon whom he couldrely, the population around being Papists, and Sir Rashleigh, who wascapable of any desperate enterprise, being in the neighbourhood. AndrewFairservice undertook this task with great cheerfulness, and promised tobring me up from Trinlay-Knowe, "twa true-blue Presbyterians likehimself, that would face and out-face baith the Pope, the Devil, and thePretender--and blythe will I be o' their company mysell, for the verylast night that I was at Osbaldistone Hall, the blight be on ilka blossomin my bit yard, if I didna see that very picture" (pointing to thefull-length portrait of Miss Vernon's grandfather) "walking by moonlightin the garden! I tauld your honour I was fleyed wi' a bogle that night,but ye wadna listen to me--I aye thought there was witchcraft anddeevilry amang the Papishers, but I ne'er saw't wi' bodily een till thatawfu' night."
"Get along, sir," said I, "and bring the fellows you talk of; and seethey have more sense than yourself, and are not frightened at their ownshadow."
"I hae been counted as gude a man as my neighbours ere now," said Andrew,petulantly; "but I dinna pretend to deal wi' evil spirits." And so hemade his exit, as Wardlaw the land-steward made his appearance.
He was a man of sense and honesty, without whose careful management myuncle would have found it difficult to have maintained himself ahousekeeper so long as he did. He examined the nature of my right ofpossession carefully, and admitted it candidly. To any one else thesuccession would have been a poor one, so much was the land encumberedwith debt and mortgage. Most of these, however, were already vested in myfather's person, and he was in a train of acquiring the rest; his largegains by the recent rise of the funds having made it a matter of ease andconvenience for him to pay off the debt which affected his patrimony.
I transacted much necessary business with Mr. Wardlaw, and detained himto dine with me. We preferred taking our repast in the library, althoughSyddall strongly recommended our removing to the stone-hall, which he hadput in order for the occasion. Meantime Andrew made his appearance withhis true-blue recruits, whom he recommended in the highest terms, as"sober
decent men, weel founded in doctrinal points, and, above all, asbold as lions." I ordered them something to drink, and they left theroom. I observed old Syddall shake his head as they went out, andinsisted upon knowing the reason.
"I maybe cannot expect," he said, "that your honour should put confidencein what I say, but it is Heaven's truth for all that--Ambrose Wingfieldis as honest a man as lives, but if there is a false knave in thecountry, it is his brother Lancie;--the whole country knows him to be aspy for Clerk Jobson on the poor gentlemen that have been in trouble--Buthe's a dissenter, and I suppose that's enough now-a-days."
Having thus far given vent to his feelings,--to which, however, I waslittle disposed to pay attention,--and having placed the wine on thetable, the old butler left the apartment.
Mr. Wardlaw having remained with me until the evening was somewhatadvanced, at length bundled up his papers, and removed himself to his ownhabitation, leaving me in that confused state of mind in which we canhardly say whether we desire company or solitude. I had not, however, thechoice betwixt them; for I was left alone in the room of all others mostcalculated to inspire me with melancholy reflections.
As twilight was darkening the apartment, Andrew had the sagacity toadvance his head at the door,--not to ask if I wished for lights, but torecommend them as a measure of precaution against the bogles which stillhaunted his imagination. I rejected his proffer somewhat peevishly,trimmed the wood-fire, and placing myself in one of the large leathernchairs which flanked the old Gothic chimney, I watched unconsciously thebickering of the blaze which I had fostered. "And this," said I alone,"is the progress and the issue of human wishes! Nursed by the meresttrifles, they are first kindled by fancy--nay, are fed upon the vapour ofhope, till they consume the substance which they inflame; and man, andhis hopes, passions, and desires, sink into a worthless heap of embersand ashes!"
There was a deep sigh from the opposite side of the room, which seemed toreply to my reflections. I started up in amazement--Diana Vernon stoodbefore me, resting on the arm of a figure so strongly resembling that ofthe portrait so often mentioned, that I looked hastily at the frame,expecting to see it empty. My first idea was, either that I had gonesuddenly distracted, or that the spirits of the dead had arisen and beenplaced before me. A second glance convinced me of my being in my senses,and that the forms which stood before me were real and substantial. Itwas Diana herself, though paler and thinner than her former self; and itwas no tenant of the grave who stood beside her, but Vaughan, or ratherSir Frederick Vernon, in a dress made to imitate that of his ancestor, towhose picture his countenance possessed a family resemblance. He was thefirst that spoke, for Diana kept her eyes fast fixed on the ground, andastonishment actually riveted my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
"We are your suppliants, Mr. Osbaldistone," he said, "and we claim therefuge and protection of your roof till we can pursue a journey wheredungeons and death gape for me at every step."
"Surely," I articulated with great difficulty--"Miss Vernon cannotsuppose--you, sir, cannot believe, that I have forgot your interferencein my difficulties, or that I am capable of betraying any one, much lessyou?"
"I know it," said Sir Frederick; "yet it is with the most inexpressiblereluctance that I impose on you a confidence, disagreeableperhaps--certainly dangerous--and which I would have specially wishedto have conferred on some one else. But my fate, which has chased methrough a life of perils and escapes, is now pressing me hard, and Ihave no alternative."
At this moment the door opened, and the voice of the officious Andrew washeard--"A'm bringin' in the caunles--Ye can light them gin ye like--Cando is easy carried about wi' ane."
I ran to the door, which, as I hoped, I reached in time to prevent hisobserving who were in the apartment, I turned him out with hastyviolence, shut the door after him, and locked it--then instantlyremembering his two companions below, knowing his talkative humour, andrecollecting Syddall's remark, that one of them was supposed to be a spy,I followed him as fast as I could to the servants' hall, in which theywere assembled. Andrew's tongue was loud as I opened the door, but myunexpected appearance silenced him.
"What is the matter with you, you fool?" said I; "you stare and lookwild, as if you had seen a ghost."
"N--n--no--nothing," said Andrew.--"but your worship was pleased to behasty."
"Because you disturbed me out of a sound sleep, you fool. Syddall tellsme he cannot find beds for these good fellows tonight, and Mr. Wardlawthinks there will be no occasion to detain them. Here is a crown-piecefor them to drink my health, and thanks for their good-will. You willleave the Hall immediately, my good lads."
The men thanked me for my bounty, took the silver, and withdrew,apparently unsuspicious and contented. I watched their departure until Iwas sure they could have no further intercourse that night with honestAndrew. And so instantly had I followed on his heels, that I thought hecould not have had time to speak two words with them before I interruptedhim. But it is wonderful what mischief may be done by only two words. Onthis occasion they cost two lives.
Having made these arrangements, the best which occurred to me upon thepressure of the moment, to secure privacy for my guests, I returned toreport my proceedings, and added, that I had desired Syddall to answerevery summons, concluding that it was by his connivance they had beensecreted in the Hall. Diana raised her eyes to thank me for the caution.
"You now understand my mystery," she said;--"you know, doubtless, hownear and dear that relative is, who has so often found shelter here; andwill be no longer surprised that Rashleigh, having such a secret at hiscommand, should rule me with a rod of iron."
Her father added, "that it was their intention to trouble me with theirpresence as short a time as was possible."
I entreated the fugitives to waive every consideration but what affectedtheir safety, and to rely on my utmost exertions to promote it. This ledto an explanation of the circumstances under which they stood.
"I always suspected Rashleigh Osbaldistone," said Sir Frederick; "but hisconduct towards my unprotected child, which with difficulty I wrung fromher, and his treachery in your father's affairs, made me hate and despisehim. In our last interview I concealed not my sentiments, as I should inprudence have attempted to do; and in resentment of the scorn with whichI treated him, he added treachery and apostasy to his catalogue ofcrimes. I at that time fondly hoped that his defection would be of littleconsequence. The Earl of Mar had a gallant army in Scotland, and LordDerwentwater, with Forster, Kenmure, Winterton, and others, wereassembling forces on the Border. As my connections with these Englishnobility and gentry were extensive, it was judged proper that I shouldaccompany a detachment of Highlanders, who, under Brigadier MacIntosh ofBorlum, crossed the Firth of Forth, traversed the low country ofScotland, and united themselves on the Borders with the Englishinsurgents. My daughter accompanied me through the perils and fatigues ofa march so long and difficult."
"And she will never leave her dear father!" exclaimed Miss Vernon,clinging fondly to his arm.
"I had hardly joined our English friends, when I became sensible that ourcause was lost. Our numbers diminished instead of increasing, nor were wejoined by any except of our own persuasion. The Tories of the High Churchremained in general undecided, and at length we were cooped up by asuperior force in the little town of Preston. We defended ourselvesresolutely for one day. On the next, the hearts of our leaders failed,and they resolved to surrender at discretion. To yield myself up on suchterms, were to have laid my head on the block. About twenty or thirtygentlemen were of my mind: we mounted our horses, and placed my daughter,who insisted on sharing my fate, in the centre of our little party. Mycompanions, struck with her courage and filial piety, declared that theywould die rather than leave her behind. We rode in a body down a streetcalled Fishergate, which leads to a marshy ground or meadow, extending tothe river Ribble, through which one of our party promised to show us agood ford. This marsh had not been strongly invested by the enemy, sothat we had only an aff
air with a patrol of Honeywood's dragoons, whom wedispersed and cut to pieces. We crossed the river, gained the high roadto Liverpool, and then dispersed to seek several places of concealmentand safety. My fortune led me to Wales, where there are many gentlemen ofmy religious and political opinions. I could not, however, find a safeopportunity of escaping by sea, and found myself obliged again to drawtowards the North. A well-tried friend has appointed to meet me in thisneighbourhood, and guide me to a seaport on the Solway, where a sloop isprepared to carry me from my native country for ever. As OsbaldistoneHall was for the present uninhabited, and under the charge of oldSyddall, who had been our confidant on former occasions, we drew to it asto a place of known and secure refuge. I resumed a dress which had beenused with good effect to scare the superstitious rustics, or domestics,who chanced at any time to see me; and we expected from time to time tohear by Syddall of the arrival of our friendly guide, when your suddencoming hither, and occupying this apartment, laid us under the necessityof submitting to your mercy."
Thus ended Sir Fredericks story, whose tale sounded to me like one toldin a vision; and I could hardly bring myself to believe that I saw hisdaughter's form once more before me in flesh and blood, though withdiminished beauty and sunk spirits. The buoyant vivacity with which shehad resisted every touch of adversity, had now assumed the air ofcomposed and submissive, but dauntless resolution and constancy. Herfather, though aware and jealous of the effect of her praises on my mind,could not forbear expatiating upon them.
"She has endured trials," he said, "which might have dignified thehistory of a martyr;--she has faced danger and death in variousshapes;--she has undergone toil and privation, from which men of thestrongest frame would have shrunk;--she has spent the day in darkness,and the night in vigil, and has never breathed a murmur of weakness orcomplaint. In a word, Mr. Osbaldistone," he concluded, "she is a worthyoffering to that God, to whom" (crossing himself) "I shall dedicate her,as all that is left dear or precious to Frederick Vernon."
There was a silence after these words, of which I well understood themournful import. The father of Diana was still as anxious to destroy myhopes of being united to her now as he had shown himself during our briefmeeting in Scotland.
"We will now," said he to his daughter, "intrude no farther on Mr.Osbaldistone's time, since we have acquainted him with the circumstancesof the miserable guests who claim his protection."
I requested them to stay, and offered myself to leave the apartment. SirFrederick observed, that my doing so could not but excite my attendant'ssuspicion; and that the place of their retreat was in every respectcommodious, and furnished by Syddall with all they could possibly want."We might perhaps have even contrived to remain there, concealed fromyour observation; but it would have been unjust to decline the mostabsolute reliance on your honour."
"You have done me but justice," I replied.--"To you, Sir Frederick, I ambut little known; but Miss Vernon, I am sure, will bear me witness that"--
"I do not want my daughter's evidence," he said, politely, but yet withan air calculated to prevent my addressing myself to Diana, "since I amprepared to believe all that is worthy of Mr. Francis Osbaldistone.Permit us now to retire; we must take repose when we can, since we areabsolutely uncertain when we may be called upon to renew our perilousjourney."
He drew his daughter's arm within his, and with a profound reverence,disappeared with her behind the tapestry.
