Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since — Volume 2

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE

  There was a moment's pause when the whole party had got out of thehut; and the Highlander who assumed the command, and who, inWaverley's awakened recollection, seemed to be the same tallfigure who had acted as Donald Bean Lean's lieutenant, by whispersand signs imposed the strictest silence. He delivered to Edward asword and steel pistol, and, pointing up the track, laid his handon the hilt of his own claymore, as if to make him sensible theymight have occasion to use force to make good their passage. Hethen placed himself at the head of the party, who moved up thepathway in single or Indian file, Waverley being placed nearest totheir leader. He moved with great precaution, as if to avoidgiving any alarm, and halted as soon as he came to the verge ofthe ascent. Waverley was soon sensible of the reason, for he heardat no great distance an English sentinel call out 'All's well.'The heavy sound sunk on the night-wind down the woody glen, andwas answered by the echoes of its banks. A second, third, andfourth time the signal was repeated fainter and fainter, as if ata greater and greater distance. It was obvious that a party ofsoldiers were near, and upon their guard, though not sufficientlyso to detect men skilful in every art of predatory warfare, likethose with whom he now watched their ineffectual precautions.

  When these sounds had died upon the silence of the night, theHighlanders began their march swiftly, yet with the most cautioussilence. Waverley had little time, or indeed disposition, forobservation, and could only discern that they passed at somedistance from a large building, in the windows of which a light ortwo yet seemed to twinkle. A little farther on the leadingHighlander snuffed the wind like a setting spaniel, and then madea signal to his party again to halt. He stooped down upon allfours, wrapped up in his plaid, so as to be scarce distinguishablefrom the heathy ground on which he moved, and advanced in thisposture to reconnoitre. In a short time he returned, and dismissedhis attendants excepting one; and, intimating to Waverley that hemust imitate his cautious mode of proceeding, all three creptforward on hands and knees.

  After proceeding a greater way in this inconvenient manner thanwas at all comfortable to his knees and shins, Waverley perceivedthe smell of smoke, which probably had been much soonerdistinguished by the more acute nasal organs of his guide. Itproceeded from the corner of a low and ruinous sheep-fold, thewalls of which were made of loose stones, as is usual in Scotland.Close by this low wall the Highlander guided Waverley, and, inorder probably to make him sensible of his danger, or perhaps toobtain the full credit of his own dexterity, he intimated to him,by sign and example, that he might raise his head so as to peepinto the sheep-fold. Waverley did so, and beheld an outpost offour or five soldiers lying by their watch-fire. They were allasleep except the sentinel, who paced backwards and forwards withhis firelock on his shoulder, which glanced red in the light ofthe fire as he crossed and re-crossed before it in his short walk,casting his eye frequently to that part of the heavens from whichthe moon, hitherto obscured by mist, seemed now about to make herappearance.

  In the course of a minute or two, by one of those sudden changesof atmosphere incident to a mountainous country, a breeze aroseand swept before it the clouds which had covered the horizon, andthe night planet poured her full effulgence upon a wide andblighted heath, skirted indeed with copse-wood and stunted treesin the quarter from which they had come, but open and bare to theobservation of the sentinel in that to which their course tended.The wall of the sheep-fold indeed concealed them as they lay, butany advance beyond its shelter seemed impossible without certaindiscovery.

  The Highlander eyed the blue vault, but far from blessing theuseful light with Homer's, or rather Pope's benighted peasant, hemuttered a Gaelic curse upon the unseasonable splendour of Mac-Farlane's buat (i.e. lantern) [Footnote: See Note 1]. He lookedanxiously around for a few minutes, and then apparently took hisresolution. Leaving his attendant with Waverley, after motioningto Edward to remain quiet, and giving his comrade directions in abrief whisper, he retreated, favoured by the irregularity of theground, in the same direction and in the same manner as they hadadvanced. Edward, turning his head after him, could perceive himcrawling on all fours with the dexterity of an Indian, availinghimself of every bush and inequality to escape observation, andnever passing over the more exposed parts of his track until thesentinel's back was turned from him. At length he reached thethickets and underwood which partly covered the moor in thatdirection, and probably extended to the verge of the glen whereWaverley had been so long an inhabitant. The Highlanderdisappeared, but it was only for a few minutes, for he suddenlyissued forth from a different part of the thicket, and, advancingboldly upon the open heath as if to invite discovery, he levelledhis piece and fired at the sentinel. A wound in the arm proved adisagreeable interruption to the poor fellow's meteorologicalobservations, as well as to the tune of 'Nancy Dawson,' which hewas whistling. He returned the fire ineffectually, and hiscomrades, starting up at the alarm, advanced alertly towards thespot from which the first shot had issued. The Highlander, aftergiving them a full view of his person, dived among the thickets,for his ruse de guerre had now perfectly succeeded.

  While the soldiers pursued the cause of their disturbance in onedirection, Waverley, adopting the hint of his remaining attendant,made the best of his speed in that which his guide originallyintended to pursue, and which now (the attention of the soldiersbeing drawn to a different quarter) was unobserved and unguarded.When they had run about a quarter of a mile, the brow of a risingground which they had surmounted concealed them from further riskof observation. They still heard, however, at a distance theshouts of the soldiers as they hallooed to each other upon theheath, and they could also hear the distant roll of a drum beatingto arms in the same direction. But these hostile sounds were nowfar in their rear, and died away upon the breeze as they rapidlyproceeded.

  When they had walked about half an hour, still along open andwaste ground of the same description, they came to the stump of anancient oak, which, from its relics, appeared to have been at onetime a tree of very large size. In an adjacent hollow they foundseveral Highlanders, with a horse or two. They had not joined themabove a few minutes, which Waverley's attendant employed, in allprobability, in communicating the cause of their delay (for thewords 'Duncan Duroch' were often repeated), when Duncan himselfappeared, out of breath indeed, and with all the symptoms ofhaving run for his life, but laughing, and in high spirits at thesuccess of the stratagem by which he had baffled his pursuers.This indeed Waverley could easily conceive might be a matter of nogreat difficulty to the active mountaineer, who was perfectlyacquainted with the ground, and traced his course with a firmnessand confidence to which his pursuers must have been strangers. Thealarm which he excited seemed still to continue, for a droppingshot or two were heard at a great distance, which seemed to serveas an addition to the mirth of Duncan and his comrades.

  The mountaineer now resumed the arms with which he had entrustedour hero, giving him to understand that the dangers of the journeywere happily surmounted. Waverley was then mounted upon one of thehorses, a change which the fatigue of the night and his recentillness rendered exceedingly acceptable. His portmanteau wasplaced on another pony, Duncan mounted a third, and they setforward at a round pace, accompanied by their escort. No otherincident marked the course of that night's journey, and at thedawn of morning they attained the banks of a rapid river. Thecountry around was at once fertile and romantic. Steep banks ofwood were broken by corn-fields, which this year presented anabundant harvest, already in a great measure cut down.

  On the opposite bank of the river, and partly surrounded by awinding of its stream, stood a large and massive castle, the half-ruined turrets of which were already glittering in the first raysof the sun. [Footnote: See Note 2.] It was in form an oblongsquare, of size sufficient to contain a large court in the centre.The towers at each angle of the square rose higher than the wallsof the building, and were in their turn surmounted by turrets,differing in height and irregular in shape. Upon o
ne of these asentinel watched, whose bonnet and plaid, streaming in the wind,declared him to be a Highlander, as a broad white ensign, whichfloated from another tower, announced that the garrison was heldby the insurgent adherents of the House of Stuart.

  Passing hastily through a small and mean town, where theirappearance excited neither surprise nor curiosity in the fewpeasants whom the labours of the harvest began to summon fromtheir repose, the party crossed an ancient and narrow bridge ofseveral arches, and, turning to the left up an avenue of huge oldsycamores, Waverley found himself in front of the gloomy yetpicturesque structure which he had admired at a distance. A hugeiron-grated door, which formed the exterior defence of thegateway, was already thrown back to receive them; and a second,heavily constructed of oak and studded thickly with iron nails,being next opened, admitted them into the interior court-yard. Agentleman, dressed in the Highland garb and having a white cockadein his bonnet, assisted Waverley to dismount from his horse, andwith much courtesy bid him welcome to the castle.

  The governor, for so we must term him, having conducted Waverleyto a half-ruinous apartment, where, however, there was a smallcamp-bed, and having offered him any refreshment which he desired,was then about to leave him.

  'Will you not add to your civilities,' said Waverley, after havingmade the usual acknowledgment, 'by having the kindness to informme where I am, and whether or not I am to consider myself as aprisoner?'

  'I am not at liberty to be so explicit upon this subject as Icould wish. Briefly, however, you are in the Castle of Doune, inthe district of Menteith, and in no danger whatever.'

  'And how am I assured of that?'

  'By the honour of Donald Stewart, governor of the garrison, andlieutenant-colonel in the service of his Royal Highness PrinceCharles Edward.' So saying, he hastily left the apartment, as ifto avoid further discussion.

  Exhausted by the fatigues of the night, our hero now threw himselfupon the bed, and was in a few minutes fast asleep.