by Walter Scott
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.
Dark and eerie was the night, And lonely was the way, As Janet, wi' her green mantell, To Miles' Cross she did gae. Old Ballad.
Leaving Butler to all the uncomfortable thoughts attached to his newsituation, among which the most predominant was his feeling that he was,by his confinement, deprived of all possibility of assisting the familyat St. Leonard's in their greatest need, we return to Jeanie Deans, whohad seen him depart, without an opportunity of farther explanation, inall that agony of mind with which the female heart bids adieu to thecomplicated sensations so well described by Coleridge,--
Hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng; And gentle wishes long subdued-- Subdued and cherished long.
It is not the firmest heart (and Jeanie, under her russet rokelay, hadone that would not have disgraced Cato's daughter) that can most easilybid adieu to these soft and mingled emotions. She wept for a few minutesbitterly, and without attempting to refrain from this indulgence ofpassion. But a moment's recollection induced her to check herself for agrief selfish and proper to her own affections, while her father andsister were plunged into such deep and irretrievable affliction. She drewfrom her pocket the letter which had been that morning flung into herapartment through an open window, and the contents of which were assingular as the expression was violent and energetic. "If she would savea human being from the most damning guilt, and all its desperateconsequences,--if she desired the life an honour of her sister to besaved from the bloody fangs of an unjust law,--if she desired not toforfeit peace of mind here, and happiness hereafter," such was thefrantic style of the conjuration, "she was entreated to give a sure,secret, and solitary meeting to the writer. She alone could rescue him,"so ran the letter, "and he only could rescue her." He was in suchcircumstances, the billet farther informed her, that an attempt to bringany witness of their conference, or even to mention to her father, or anyother person whatsoever, the letter which requested it, would inevitablyprevent its taking place, and ensure the destruction of her sister. Theletter concluded with incoherent but violent protestations, that inobeying this summons she had nothing to fear personally.
The message delivered to her by Butler from the stranger in the Parktallied exactly with the contents of the letter, but assigned a laterhour and a different place of meeting. Apparently the writer of theletter had been compelled to let Butler so far into his confidence, forthe sake of announcing this change to Jeanie. She was more than once onthe point of producing the billet, in vindication of herself from herlover's half-hinted suspicions. But there is something in stooping tojustification which the pride of innocence does not at all timeswillingly submit to; besides that the threats contained in the letter, incase of her betraying the secret, hung heavy on her heart. It isprobable, however, that had they remained longer together, she might havetaken the resolution to submit the whole matter to Butler, and be guidedby him as to the line of conduct which she should adopt. And when, by thesudden interruption of their conference, she lost the opportunity ofdoing so, she felt as if she had been unjust to a friend, whose advicemight have been highly useful, and whose attachment deserved her full andunreserved confidence.
To have recourse to her father upon this occasion, she considered ashighly imprudent. There was no possibility of conjecturing in what lightthe matter might strike old David, whose manner of acting and thinking inextraordinary circumstances depended upon feelings and principlespeculiar to himself, the operation of which could not be calculated uponeven by those best acquainted with him. To have requested some femalefriend to have accompanied her to the place of rendezvous, would perhapshave been the most eligible expedient; but the threats of the writer,that betraying his secret would prevent their meeting (on which hersister's safety was said to depend) from taking place at all, would havedeterred her from making such a confidence, even had she known a personin whom she thought it could with safety have been reposed. But she knewnone such. Their acquaintance with the cottagers in the vicinity had beenvery slight, and limited to trifling acts of good neighbourhood. Jeanieknew little of them, and what she knew did not greatly incline her totrust any of them. They were of the order of loquacious good-humouredgossips usually found in their situation of life; and their conversationhad at all times few charms for a young woman, to whom nature and thecircumstance of a solitary life had given a depth of thought and force ofcharacter superior to the frivolous part of her sex, whether in high orlow degree.
Left alone and separated from all earthly counsel, she had recourse to afriend and adviser, whose ear is open to the cry of the poorest and mostafflicted of his people. She knelt, and prayed with fervent sincerity,that God would please to direct her what course to follow in her arduousand distressing situation. It was the belief of the time and sect towhich she belonged, that special answers to prayer, differing little intheir character from divine inspiration, were, as they expressed it,"borne in upon their minds" in answer to their earnest petitions in acrisis of difficulty. Without entering into an abstruse point ofdivinity, one thing is plain;--namely, that the person who lays open hisdoubts and distresses in prayer, with feeling and sincerity, mustnecessarily, in the act of doing so, purify his mind from the dross ofworldly passions and interests, and bring it into that state, when theresolutions adopted are likely to be selected rather from a sense ofduty, than from any inferior motive. Jeanie arose from her devotions,with her heart fortified to endure affliction, and encouraged to facedifficulties.
"I will meet this unhappy man," she said to herself--"unhappy he must be,since I doubt he has been the cause of poor Effie's misfortune--but Iwill meet him, be it for good or ill. My mind shall never cast up to me,that, for fear of what might be said or done to myself, I left thatundone that might even yet be the rescue of her."
With a mind greatly composed since the adoption of this resolution, shewent to attend her father. The old man, firm in the principles of hisyouth, did not, in outward appearance at least, permit a thought of hitfamily distress to interfere with the stoical reserve of his countenanceand manners. He even chid his daughter for having neglected, in thedistress of the morning, some trifling domestic duties which fell underher department.
"Why, what meaneth this, Jeanie?" said the old man--"The brownfour-year-auld's milk is not seiled yet, nor the bowies put up on thebink. If ye neglect your warldly duties in the day of affliction, whatconfidence have I that ye mind the greater matters that concernsalvation? God knows, our bowies, and our pipkins, and our draps o' milk,and our bits o' bread, are nearer and dearer to us than the bread oflife!"
Jeanie, not unpleased to hear her father's thoughts thus expandthemselves beyond the sphere of his immediate distress, obeyed him, andproceeded to put her household matters in order; while old David movedfrom place to place about his ordinary employments, scarce showing,unless by a nervous impatience at remaining long stationary, anoccasional convulsive sigh, or twinkle of the eyelid, that he waslabouring under the yoke of such bitter affliction.
The hour of noon came on, and the father and child sat down to theirhomely repast. In his petition for a blessing on the meal, the poor oldman added to his supplication, a prayer that the bread eaten in sadnessof heart, and the bitter waters of Marah, might be made as nourishing asthose which had been poured forth from a full cup and a plentiful basketand store; and having concluded his benediction, and resumed the bonnetwhich he had laid "reverently aside," he proceeded to exhort his daughterto eat, not by example indeed, but at least by precept.
"The man after God's own heart," he said, "washed and anointed himself,and did eat bread, in order to express his submission under adispensation of suffering, and it did not become a Christian man or womanso to cling to creature-comforts of wife or bairns"--(here the wordsbecame too great, as it were, for his utterance),--"as t
o forget the fistduty,--submission to the Divine will."
To add force to his precept, he took a morsel on his plate, but natureproved too strong even for the powerful feelings with which heendeavoured to bridle it. Ashamed of his weakness, he started up, and ranout of the house, with haste very unlike the deliberation of his usualmovements. In less than five minutes he returned, having successfullystruggled to recover his ordinary composure of mind and countenance, andaffected to colour over his late retreat, by muttering that he thought heheard the "young staig loose in the byre."
He did not again trust himself with the subject of his formerconversation, and his daughter was glad to see that he seemed to avoidfarther discourse on that agitating topic. The hours glided on, as onthey must and do pass, whether winged with joy or laden with affliction.The sun set beyond the dusky eminence of the Castle and the screen ofwestern hills, and the close of evening summoned David Deans and hisdaughter to the family duty of the night. It came bitterly upon Jeanie'srecollection, how often, when the hour of worship approached, she used towatch the lengthening shadows, and look out from the door of the house,to see if she could spy her sister's return homeward. Alas! this idle andthoughtless waste of time, to what evils had it not finally led? and wasshe altogether guiltless, who, noticing Effie's turn to idle and lightsociety, had not called in her father's authority to restrain her?--But Iacted for the best, she again reflected, and who could have expected sucha growth of evil, from one grain of human leaven, in a disposition sokind, and candid, and generous?
As they sate down to the "exercise," as it is called, a chair happenedaccidentally to stand in the place which Effie usually occupied. DavidDeans saw his daughter's eyes swim in tears as they were directed towardsthis object, and pushed it aside, with a gesture of some impatience, asif desirous to destroy every memorial of earthly interest when about toaddress the Deity. The portion of Scripture was read, the psalm was sung,the prayer was made; and it was remarkable that, in discharging theseduties, the old man avoided all passages and expressions, of whichScripture affords so many, that might be considered as applicable to hisown domestic misfortune. In doing so it was perhaps his intention tospare the feelings of his daughter, as well as to maintain, in outwardshow at least, that stoical appearance of patient endurance of all theevil which earth could bring, which was in his opinion essential to thecharacter of one who rated all earthly things at their just estimate ofnothingness. When he had finished the duty of the evening, he came up tohis daughter, wished her good-night, and, having done so, continued tohold her by the hands for half-a-minute; then drawing her towards him,kissed her forehead, and ejaculated, "The God of Israel bless you, evenwith the blessings of the promise, my dear bairn!"
It was not either in the nature or habits of David Deans to seem a fondfather; nor was he often observed to experience, or at least to evince,that fulness of the heart which seeks to expand itself in tenderexpressions or caresses even to those who were dearest to him. On thecontrary, he used to censure this as a degree of weakness in several ofhis neighbours, and particularly in poor widow Butler. It followed,however, from the rarity of such emotions in this self-denied andreserved man, that his children attached to occasional marks of hisaffection and approbation a degree of high interest and solemnity; wellconsidering them as evidences of feelings which were only expressed whenthey became too intense for suppression or concealment.
With deep emotion, therefore, did he bestow, and his daughter receive,this benediction and paternal caress. "And you, my dear father,"exclaimed Jeanie, when the door had closed upon the venerable old man,"may you have purchased and promised blessings multiplied upon you--upon_you,_ who walk in this world as though you were not of the world, andhold all that it can give or take away but as the _midges_ that thesun-blink brings out, and the evening wind sweeps away!"
She now made preparation for her night-walk. Her father slept in anotherpart of the dwelling, and, regular in all his habits, seldom or neverleft his apartment when he had betaken himself to it for the evening. Itwas therefore easy for her to leave the house unobserved, so soon as thetime approached at which she was to keep her appointment. But the stepshe was about to take had difficulties and terrors in her own eyes,though she had no reason to apprehend her father's interference. Her lifehad been spent in the quiet, uniform, and regular seclusion of theirpeaceful and monotonous household. The very hour which some damsels ofthe present day, as well of her own as of higher degree, would consideras the natural period of commencing an evening of pleasure, brought, inher opinion, awe and solemnity in it; and the resolution she had takenhad a strange, daring, and adventurous character, to which she couldhardly reconcile herself when the moment approached for putting it intoexecution. Her hands trembled as she snooded her fair hair beneath theriband, then the only ornament or cover which young unmarried women woreon their head, and as she adjusted the scarlet tartan screen or mufflermade of plaid, which the Scottish women wore, much in the fashion of theblack silk veils still a part of female dress in the Netherlands. A senseof impropriety as well as of danger pressed upon her, as she lifted thelatch of her paternal mansion to leave it on so wild an expedition, andat so late an hour, unprotected, and without the knowledge of her naturalguardian.
When she found herself abroad and in the open fields, additional subjectsof apprehension crowded upon her. The dim cliffs and scattered rocks,interspersed with greensward, through which she had to pass to the placeof appointment, as they glimmered before her in a clear autumn night,recalled to her memory many a deed of violence, which, according totradition, had been done and suffered among them. In earlier days theyhad been the haunt of robbers and assassins, the memory of whose crimesis preserved in the various edicts which the council of the city, andeven the parliament of Scotland, had passed for dispersing their bands,and ensuring safety to the lieges, so near the precincts of the city. Thenames of these criminals, and, of their atrocities, were still rememberedin traditions of the scattered cottages and the neighbouring suburb. Inlatter times, as we have already noticed, the sequestered and brokencharacter of the ground rendered it a fit theatre for duels andrencontres among the fiery youth of the period. Two or three of theseincidents, all sanguinary, and one of them fatal in its termination, hadhappened since Deans came to live at St. Leonard's. His daughter'srecollections, therefore, were of blood and horror as she pursued thesmall scarce-tracked solitary path, every step of which conveyed het to agreater distance from help, and deeper into the ominous seclusion ofthese unhallowed precincts.
As the moon began to peer forth on the scene with a doubtful, flitting,and solemn light, Jeanie's apprehensions took another turn, too peculiarto her rank and country to remain unnoticed. But to trace its origin willrequire another chapter.
