by Walter Scott
CHAPTER LXIV
COMPARING OF NOTES
The Baron's story was short, when divested of the adages andcommonplaces, Latin, English, and Scotch, with which his eruditiongarnished it. He insisted much upon his grief at the loss of Edward andof Glennaquoich, fought the fields of Falkirk and Culloden, and relatedhow, after all was lost in the last battle, he had returned home, underthe idea of more easily finding shelter among his own tenants, and onhis own estate, than elsewhere. A party of soldiers had been sent tolay waste his property, for clemency was not the order of the day. Theirproceedings, however, were checked by an order from the civil court.The estate, it was found, might not be forfeited to the crown, to theprejudice of Malcolm Bradwardine of Inch-Grabbit, the heir-male, whoseclaim could not be prejudiced by the Baron's attainder, as deriving noright through him, and who, therefore, like other heirs of entail inthe same situation, entered upon possession. But, unlike many in similarcircumstances, the new laird speedily showed that he intended utterly toexclude his predecessor from all benefit or advantage in the estate, andthat it was his purpose to avail himself of the old Baron's evil fortuneto the full extent. This was the more ungenerous, as it was generallyknown, that, from a romantic idea of not prejudicing this young man'sright as heir-male, the Baron had refrained from settling his estate onhis daughter.
This selfish injustice was resented by the country people, who werepartial to their old master, and irritated against his successor. In theBaron's own words, 'The matter did not coincide with the feelings ofthe commons of Bradwardine, Mr. Waverley; and the tenants were slack andrepugnant in payment of their mails and duties; and when my kinsman cameto the village wi' the new factor, Mr. James Howie, to lift therents, some wanchancy person--I suspect John Heatherblutter, the auldgamekeeper, that was out wi' me in the year fifteen--fired a shot athim in the gloaming, whereby he was so affrighted, that I may say withTullius in Catilinam, ABIIT, EVASIT, ERUPIT, EFFUGIT. He fled, sir, asone may say, incontinent to Stirling. And now he hath advertised theestate for sale, being himself the last substitute in the entail. And ifI were to lament about sic matters, this would grieve me mair than itspassing from my immediate possession, whilk, by the course of nature,must have happened in a few years. Whereas now it passes from thelineage that should have possessed it in SAECULA SAECULORUM. But God'swill be done, HUMANA PERPESSI SUMUS. Sir John of Bradwardine--Black SirJohn, as he is called--who was the common ancestor of our house and theInch-Grabbits, little thought such a person would have sprung from hisloins. Meantime, he has accused me to some of the primates, the rulersfor the time, as if I were a cut-throat, and an abettor of bravoes andassassinates, and coupe-jarrets. And they have sent soldiers here toabide on the estate, and hunt me like a partridge upon the mountains,as Scripture says of good King David, or like our valiant Sir WilliamWallace,--not that I bring myself into comparison with either.--Ithought, when I heard you at the door, they had driven the auld deer tohis den at last; and so I e'en proposed to die at bay, like a buck ofthe first head.--But now, Janet, canna ye gie us something for supper?'
'Ou aye, sir, I'll brander the moor-fowl that John Heatherblutterbrought in this morning; and ye see puir Davie's roasting the blackhen's eggs.--I daur say, Mr. Wauverley, ye never kend that a' the eggsthat were sae weel roasted at supper in the Ha'-house were aye turnedby our Davie?--there's no the like o' him ony gate for powtering wi'his fingers amang the het peat-ashes, and roasting eggs. Davie all thiswhile lay with his nose almost in the fire, nuzzling among the ashes,kicking his heels, mumbling to himself, turning the eggs as they lay inthe hot embers, as if to confute the proverb, that 'there goes reason toroasting of eggs,' and justify the eulogium which poor Janet poured outupon
Him whom she loved, her idiot boy.
Davie's no sae silly as folk tak him for, Mr. Wauverley; he wadnahae brought you here unless he had kend ye was a friend to hisHonour--indeed the very dogs kend ye, Mr. Wauverley, for ye was aye kindto beast and body.--I can tell you a story o' Davie, wi' his Honour'sleave: His Honour, ye see, being under hiding in thae sair times--themair's the pity--he lies a' day, and whiles a' night, in the cove in thedern hag; but though it 's a bieldy eneugh bit, and the auld gudeman o'Corse-Cleugh has panged it wi' a kemple o' strae amaist, yet when thecountry's quiet, and the night very cauld, his Honour whiles creeps dounhere to get a warm at the ingle, and a sleep amang the blankets, andgangs awa in the morning. And so, ae morning, siccan a fright as Igot! Twa unlucky red-coats were up for black-fishing, or some siccanploy--for the neb o' them's never out o' mischief--and they just got aglisk o' his Honour as he gaed into the wood, and banged aff a gun athim, I out like a jer-falcon, and cried,--"Wad they shoot an honestwoman's poor innocent bairn?" And I fleyt at them, and threepit it wasmy son; and they damned and swuir at me that it was the auld rebel, asthe villains ca'd his Honour; and Davie was in the wood, and heard thetuilzie, and he, just out o' his ain head, got up the auld grey mantlethat his Honour had flung off him to gang the faster, and he cam out o'the very same bit o' the wood, majoring and looking about sae like hisHonour, that they were clean beguiled, and thought they had letten afftheir gun at crack-brained Sawney, as they ca'd him; and they gaeme saxpence, and twa saumon fish, to say naething about it.--Na, na;Davie's no just like other folk, puir fallow; but he's no sae silly asfolk tak him for.--But, to be sure, how can we do eneugh for his Honour,when we and ours have lived on his ground this twa hundred years; andwhen he keepit my puir Jamie at school and college, and even at theHa'-house, till he gaed to a better place; and when he saved me fraebeing ta'en to Perth as a witch--lord forgi'e them that would touchsic a puir silly auld body!--and has maintained puir Davie at heck andmanger maist feck o' his life?'
Waverley at length found an opportunity to interrupt Janet's narrative,by an inquiry after Miss Bradwardine.
'She's weel and safe, thank God! at the Duchran,' answered the Baron.'The laird's distantly related to us, and more nearly to my chaplain,Mr. Rubrick; and, though he be of Whig principles, yet he's notforgetful of auld friendship at this time. The Bailie's doing what hecan to save something out of the wreck for puir Rose; but I doubt, Idoubt, I shall never see her again, for I maun lay my banes in some farcountry.'
'Hout na, your Honour,' said old Janet; 'ye were just as ill aff in thefeifteen, and got the bonnie baronie back, an' a'.--And now the eggs isready, and the muir-cock's brandered, and there's ilk ane a trencher andsome saut, and the heel o' the white loaf that cam frae the Bailie's;and there's plenty o' brandy in the greybeard that Luckie Maclearie sentdoun; and winna ye be suppered like princes?'
'I wish one Prince, at least, of our acquaintance, may be no worse off,'said the Baron to Waverley, who joined him in cordial hopes for thesafety of the unfortunate Chevalier.
They then began to talk of their future prospects. The Baron's plan wasvery simple. It was, to escape to France, where, by the interest of hisold friends, he hoped to get some military employment, of which hestill conceived himself capable. He invited Waverley to go with him,a proposal in which he acquiesced, providing the interest of ColonelTalbot should fail in procuring his pardon. Tacitly he hoped the Baronwould sanction his addresses to Rose, and give him a right to assist himin his exile; but he forbore to speak on this subject until his own fateshould be decided. They then talked of Glennaquoich, for whom theBaron expressed great anxiety, although, he observed, he was 'the veryAchilles of Horatius Flaccus,--
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer.
Which,' he continued, 'has been thus rendered (vernacularly) by StruanRobertson:
A fiery etter-cap, a fractious chiel, As het as ginger, and as stieve as steel.'
Flora had a large and unqualified share of the good old man's sympathy.
It was now wearing late. Old Janet got into some kind of kennel behindthe hallan. Davie had been long asleep and snoring between Ban andBuscar. These dogs had followed him to the hut after the mansion-housewas deserted, and there constantly resided; and their ferocity, with t
heold woman's reputation of being a witch, contributed a good deal to keepvisitors from the glen. With this view, Bailie Macwheeble provided Janetunderhand with meal for their maintenance, and also with little articlesof luxury for their patron's use, in supplying which much precaution wasnecessarily used. After some compliments, the Baron occupied his usualcouch, and Waverley reclined in an easy-chair of tattered velvet, whichhad once garnished the state bed-room of Tully-Veolan (for the furnitureof this mansion was now scattered through all the cottages in thevicinity), and went to sleep as comfortably as if he had been in a bedof down.
