by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XLIX
THE ENGLISH PRISONER
The first occupation of Waverley, after he departed from the Chieftain,was to go in quest of the officer whose life he had saved. He wasguarded, along with his companions in misfortune, who were verynumerous, in a gentleman's house near the field of battle.
On entering the room where they stood crowded together, Waverley easilyrecognized the object of his visit, not only by the peculiar dignityof his appearance, but by the appendage of Dugald Mahony, with hisbattle-axe, who had stuck to him from the moment of his captivity, asif he had been skewered to his side. This close attendance was, perhaps,for the purpose of securing his promised reward from Edward, but it alsooperated to save the English gentleman from being plundered in the sceneof general confusion; for Dugald sagaciously argued, that the amount ofthe salvage which he might be allowed, would be regulated by thestate of the prisoner, when he should deliver him over to Waverley, Hehastened to assure Waverley, therefore, with more words than he usuallyemployed, that he had 'keepit ta SIDIER ROY haill, and that he wasna aplack the waur since the fery moment when his honour forbad her to giehim a bit clamhewit wi' her Lochaber-axe.'
Waverley assured Dugald of a liberal recompense, and, approachingthe English officer, expressed his anxiety to do anything whichmight contribute to his convenience under his present unpleasantcircumstances.
'I am not so inexperienced a soldier, sir,' answered the Englishman, 'asto complain of the fortune of war. I am only grieved to see those scenesacted in our own island, which I have often witnessed elsewhere withcomparative indifference.'
'Another such day as this,' said Waverley, 'and I trust the cause ofyour regrets will be removed, and all will again return to peace andorder.'
The officer smiled and shook his head. 'I must not forget my situationso far as to attempt a formal confutation of that opinion; but,notwithstanding your success, and the valour which achieved it, you haveundertaken a task to which your strength appears wholly inadequate.'
At this moment Fergus pushed into the press.
'Come, Edward, come along; the Prince has gone to Pinkie-house for thenight; and we must follow, or lose the whole ceremony of the CALIGAE.Your friend, the Baron, has been guilty of a great piece of cruelty; hehas insisted upon dragging Bailie Macwheeble out to the field of battle.Now you must know the Bailie's greatest horror is an armed Highlander,or a loaded gun; and there he stands, listening to the Baron'sinstructions concerning the protest; ducking his head like a sea-gullat the report of every gun and pistol that our idle boys are firingupon the fields; and undergoing, by way of penance, at every symptomof flinching, a severe rebuke from his patron, who would not admit thedischarge of a whole battery of cannon, within point-blank distance, asan apology for neglecting a discourse, in which the honour of his familyis interested.
'But how has Mr. Bradwardine got him to venture so far?' said Edward.
'Why, he had come as far as Musselburgh, I fancy, in hopes of makingsome of our wills; and the peremptory commands of the Baron dragged himforward to Preston after the battle was over. He complains of one or twoof our ragamuffins having put him in peril of his life, by presentingtheir pieces at him; but as they limited his ransom to an English penny,I don't think we need trouble the provost-marshal upon that subject. So,come along, Waverley.'
'Waverley!' said the English officer, with great emotion; 'the nephew ofSir Everard Waverley, of --shire?'
'The same, sir,' replied our hero, somewhat surprised at the tone inwhich he was addressed.
'I am at once happy and grieved,' said the prisoner, 'to have met withyou.'
'I am ignorant, sir,' answered Waverley, 'how I have deserved so muchinterest.'
'Did your uncle never mention a friend called Talbot?'
'I have heard him talk with great regard of such a person,' repliedEdward; 'a colonel, I believe, in the army, and the husband of LadyEmily Blandeville; but I thought Colonel Talbot had been abroad.'
'I am just returned,' answered the officer; 'and being in Scotland,thought it my duty to act where my services promised to be useful. Yes,Mr. Waverley, I am that Colonel Talbot, the husband of the lady you havenamed; and I am proud to acknowledge, that I owe alike my professionalrank and my domestic happiness to your generous and noble-mindedrelative. Good God! that I should find his nephew in such a dress, andengaged in such a cause!'
'Sir,' said Fergus, haughtily, 'the dress and cause are those of men ofbirth and honour.'
'My situation forbids me to dispute your assertion,' said ColonelTalbot; 'otherwise it were no difficult matter to show, that neithercourage nor pride of lineage can gild a bad cause. But, with Mr.Waverley's permission, and yours, sir, if yours also must be asked, Iwould willingly speak a few words with him on affairs connected with hisown family.'
'Mr. Waverley, sir, regulates his own motions. You will follow me, Isuppose, to Pinkie,' said Fergus, turning to Edward, 'when you havefinished your discourse with this new acquaintance?' So saying, theChief of Glennaquoich adjusted his plaid with rather more than his usualair of haughty assumption, and left the apartment.
The interest of Waverley readily procured for Colonel Talbot the freedomof adjourning to a large garden belonging to his place of confinement.They walked a few paces in silence, Colonel Talbot apparently studyinghow to open what he had to say; at length he addressed Edward.
'Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life; and yet I would to Godthat I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing the uniform and cockadeof these men.'
'I forgive your reproach, Colonel Talbot; it is well meant, and youreducation and prejudices render it natural. But there is nothingextraordinary in finding a man, whose honour has been publicly andunjustly assailed, in the situation which promised most fair to affordhim satisfaction on his calumniators.'
'I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm thereports which they have circulated,' said Colonel Talbot, 'by followingthe very line of conduct ascribed to you. Are you aware, Mr. Waverley,of the infinite distress, and even danger, which your present conducthas occasioned to your nearest relatives?'
'Danger!'
'Yes, sir, danger. When I left England, your uncle and father had beenobliged to find bail to answer a charge of treason, to which they wereonly admitted by the exertion of the most powerful interest. I came downto Scotland, with the sole purpose of rescuing you from the gulfinto which you have precipitated yourself; nor can I estimate theconsequences to your family, of your having openly joined the rebellion,since the very suspicion of your intention was so perilous to them. Mostdeeply do I regret that I did not meet you before this last and fatalerror.'
'I am really ignorant,' said Waverley, in a tone of reserve, 'whyColonel Talbot should have taken so much trouble on my account.'
'Mr. Waverley,' answered Talbot, 'I am dull at apprehending irony; andtherefore I shall answer your words according to their plain meaning.I am indebted to your uncle for benefits greater than those which a sonowes to a father. I acknowledge to him the duty of a son; and as I knowthere is no manner in which I can requite his kindness so well as byserving you, I will serve you, if possible, whether you will permit meor no. The personal obligation which you have this day laid me under(although in common estimation as great as one human being can bestowon another) adds nothing to my zeal on your behalf; nor can that zeal beabated by any coolness with which you may please to receive it.'
'Your intentions may be kind, sir,' said Waverley, drily; 'but yourlanguage is harsh, or at least peremptory.'
'On my return to England,' continued Colonel Talbot, 'after longabsence, I found your uncle, Sir Everard Waverley, in the custody of aking's messenger, in consequence of the suspicion brought upon him byyour conduct. He is my oldest friend--how often shall I repeat it?--mybest benefactor; he sacrificed his own views of happiness to mine--henever uttered a word, he never harboured a thought, that benevolenceitself might not have thought or spoken. I found this man inconfinement, rendered harsher
to him by his habits of life, his naturaldignity of feeling, and--forgive me, Mr. Waverley--by the cause throughwhich this calamity had come upon him. I cannot disguise from you myfeelings upon this occasion; they were most painfully unfavourableto you. Having, by my family interest, which you probably know is notinconsiderable, succeeded in obtaining Sir Everard's release, I setout for Scotland. I saw Colonel Gardiner, a man whose fate alone issufficient to render this insurrection for ever execrable. In the courseof conversation with him, I found, that, from late circumstances, froma re-examination of the persons engaged in the mutiny, and from hisoriginal good opinion of your character, he was much softened towardsyou; and I doubted not, that if I could be so fortunate as to discoveryou, all might yet be well. But this unnatural rebellion has ruinedall. I have, for the first time in a long and active military life, seenBritons disgrace themselves by a panic flight, and that before a foewithout either arms or discipline: and now I find the heir of my dearestfriend--the son, I may say, of his affections--sharing a triumph, forwhich he ought the first to have blushed. Why should I lament Gardiner?his lot was happy, compared to mine!'
There was so much dignity in Colonel Talbot's manner, such a mixtureof military pride and manly sorrow, and the news of Sir Everard'simprisonment was told in so deep a tone of feeling, that Edward stoodmortified, abashed, and distressed in presence of the prisoner, whoowed to him his life not many hours before. He was not sorry when Fergusinterrupted their conference a second time.
'His Royal Highness commands Mr. Waverley's attendance.' Colonel Talbotthrew upon Edward a reproachful glance, which did not escape the quickeye of the Highland Chief. 'His immediate attendance,' he repeated, withconsiderable emphasis. Waverley turned again towards the Colonel.
'We shall meet again,' he said; 'in the meanwhile, every possibleaccommodation'--
'I desire none,' said the Colonel; 'let me fare like the meanest ofthose brave men, who, on this day of calamity, have preferred wounds andcaptivity to flight; I would, almost exchange places with one of thosewho have fallen, to know that my words have made a suitable impressionon your mind.'
'Let Colonel Talbot be carefully secured,' said Fergus to the Highlandofficer, who commanded the guard over the prisoners; 'it is the Prince'sparticular command; he is a prisoner of the utmost importance.'
'But let him want no accommodation suitable to his rank,' said Waverley.
'Consistent always with secure custody,' reiterated Fergus. The officersignified his acquiescence in both commands, and Edward followed Fergusto the garden-gate, where Callum Beg, with three saddle-horses, awaitedthem. Turning his head, he saw Colonel Talbot reconducted to his placeof confinement by a file of Highlanders; he lingered on the thresholdof the door, and made a signal with his hand towards Waverley, as ifenforcing the language he had held towards him.
'Horses,' said Fergus, as he mounted, 'are now as plenty asblackberries; every man may have them for the catching. Come, let Callumadjust your stirrups, and let us to Pinkie-house [Charles Edward tookup his quarters after the battle at Pinkie-house, adjoining toMusselburgh.] as fast as these CI-DEVANT dragoon-horses choose to carryus.'
